#k-labels | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

papermatisse · 3 days

Text

Snowbound || K.MG (I)

chapter one: iceolated

♗ pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

♗ genre: fluff, angst

♗ word count: 17.6k

♗ warnings: cursing, extreme weather, dissociating, communication issues, unresolved trauma, harsh character archetypes

♗ abstract: a chance encounter between a spoiled socialite and a mysterious woodsman

♗ (a/n): this chapter is mainly to introduce and get a taste of the characters and their dynamics. things will be elaborated/addressed in future chapters. also yeah, this was supposed to be completed and posted in the wintertime, but I already breached the 20k mark and wasn't even halfway done, so I thought posting it by chapters and just completing it by wintertime would be good enough 👍.

snowbound masterlist | main masterlist

It was an undeniable certainty that (y/n) had lived a life of privilege and grandeur. Every whim which passed her by was catered to no matter how fleeting or childish it seemed. She was spoiled beyond belief and recognition, doted upon by everyone around her. Perhaps it was this mindset which had become ingrained into her, that of her every desire and ambition held will be inevitably granted, which landed her in her current predicament.

This aforementioned plight being that she's suddenly found herself stranded in the middle of nowhere. And by nowhere, she quite literally means nowhere.

Surrounded by a dense brush of wood with only an abandoned and empty road which stretched as far as the eye can see, which albeit wasn't very far considering the clouded and snowy atmosphere completely shrouding her vision, only growing more obscure with every passing moment as not only a snowstorm was beginning to form, but also the sun was gradually setting, only casting a faint light to the otherwise dark and dreary white landscape. No street lamps to keep her company, no headlights approaching, and no glow of a nearby town to serve as a beacon for her. She was utterly and hopelessly stranded.

"This is fine, everything is fine," (y/n) muttered lowly to herself, hands still desperately clenching the steering wheel. A cold sheen of perspiration settled over her revealed skin, only further reminding her of the cold now beginning to seep into her taciturn vehicle. With a heavy gulp, she shakily reached for her coat beside her, tugging the thick article onto her body before returning to her otherwise comatose state of utter panic.

This is not fine. Nothing is fine. I'm going to die here.

Her phone's reception had long disappeared at this point, with only a measly 30% battery to greet her as she fleetingly glanced at the screen before turning it off again. It's better to preserve whatever battery she can, especially since the device was nothing less than redundant to her in her current situation.

As the light outside began to drastically dwindle to nothingness, casting her in an unseemly blanket of frigid darkness, her doubts and fears only accumulated, swirling about her until those hopeful yet utterly despairing affirmations from before were nothing more than static—white noise in the terror stricken state of her mind, in the midst of her own personal nightmare. There was absolutely no chance of her surviving the night. With two sweaters, a padded coat, and a blanket draped over her, she could still feel her bones chilling by the second, as if she was wearing nothing at all.

By the time anyone were to realize she was missing, she'd be a cadaver trapped in a freezer of a deathbed. She didn't know what would be more embarrassing, being found in a vehicle clearly unfit for the snowy biome she's found herself in, or the sorry excuse of a navigator she was to have gotten lost using a paper map. She'd argue her case in that the atlas was obsolete in her day and age, but she was beginning to realize perhaps she should've prepared herself more for such a long journey.

To add to the pathetic state she's found herself in, she was in the midst of considering writing her will on the back of said map when a sudden jarring series of thuds startled her from her stupor, a yelp slipping out of (y/n) as she whipped her head to the driver's window beside her.

That initial yelp of surprise had quickly morphed into a full blown horrific screech torn from her throat. Vision shaky and blurred, whether from the tears that had accumulated at a moment's notice or the sudden surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, she unwillingly stared ahead, now face to face with the presence of a colossal silhouette, hunched over and peering right at her.

Her entirety crumbled, heart seemingly abandoning her as she felt this cold emptiness flood her being. The once frigid and unforgiving air had long disappeared, and she felt herself suffocating under the weight of it all, under the gaze of the shadowed monstrosity lurking just beyond the glass barrier. And yet even with this stifling atmosphere, her lungs persisted, screaming as if hoping, praying, for a savior. For some reprieve from this hellscape she's stumbled into.

Through the haze of fear blinding (y/n), she initially hadn't taken notice of the terror radiating from the creature as well, jumping back the moment her muffled hollering reached his ears. And as soon as he had processed the situation, he had quickly gone about dispelling it.

It took (y/n) a moment herself to register what was happening, as the thing outside suddenly ripped off his hoodie and scarf, revealing the face of a young man, gazing at her with unadulterated concern. And even as she came to terms with the fact that the intruder was nothing more than a simple guy, she still remained as is, pressed as far back as she could be from the window, center console digging into her ribs as she attempted to quell the stabbing ache of exhaustion and terror ebbing away slowly but surely.

Through her lack of response, remaining as unresponsive as her car, the man found himself opening the car door, crouching in the snow to get a better look at the girl.

"Are you alright?" He asked aloud, keeping his voice as steady as he could given the deafening sound of the winds beginning to pick up. He didn't want to startle the girl any more than she already has, but the situation was starting to become dire. "You've gotta get going. If you leave now, you'll probably make it into town before the storm hits."

Silence. Nothing more than her heavy breathing as she stared straight ahead aimlessly.

(y/n) could see the man take a glance around her car, though nothing seemed to penetrate the muddled state of her head now as the adrenaline dissipated. That exhaustion from before was becoming unbearable, the tension of her body melting away alongside her consciousness.

Vaguely, she could feel herself being moved. She could feel the sting of snowflakes briefly gliding across her skin, the shakiness of her legs sinking into the blanket of snow beneath her, the sound of her car door being closed behind her. Relapses of memory showcasing scenes of her walking through the woods, accompanied by the man beside her ushering her through the labyrinth of trees. And by the time she had finally come to, she found herself seated on a cushioned chair, the large back and armrests completely encasing her. Blankets draped across her back, as did a new woolen sweater, far too large for her. A fireplace sat to her left, its warmth foreign yet welcoming, and to her right sat the man from before, once more crouched on the floor as he watched her.

"Are you with me, kid?" He asked, head tilting as his eyes narrowed in question. Silently, (y/n) nodded, shifting under his perceptive gaze. Her eyes traveled down to her hands, a warm cup resting between her palms, steam traipsing upwards and dispelling in the air. Hesitantly, she brought it up to her nose, sighing gratefully at the warmth it offered her slowly thawing face. "It's tea. Earl Grey." His chin jutted towards the cup, umber eyes returning to hers. "Drink some. You need to warm up."

It probably wasn't her best move to immediately abide by this stranger's words, but she was also on a streak of misfortune and bad decisions, so what does it matter if she drinks this potentially laced drink? Yet as she took her first sip, she was only greeted by the man's wholly genuine words. It was truly Earl Grey, the creamy taste of milk gratefully warming her sore throat, and the sugar added only served to settle her nerves some.

As she placed the drink down again, she glanced back to the man staring expectantly at her, as if awaiting some response.

"Thank you… It's really good," she whispered, tone strangled some through the coarseness of her voice. Yet this did not perturb the man in the slightest, only inciting a mirthful smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes as she spoke.

"So you can talk," he replied, backing away from where he had been crouched to settle onto the rug behind him. "I was afraid I picked up a stray banshee or something."

"I thought you were Bigfoot…" (y/n) muttered as a pitiful defense, quickly retreating back to the tea in her hands as boisterous laughter filled the room.

"Bigfoot? Kid, even Bigfoot wouldn't be wandering around in a snowstorm like this." At the mention of the storm, (y/n) dared a glance at the window across the room, shut tight with a flannel curtain shrouding it, yet through the cracks alone, she could see the near violent flurry of white whizzing by. The winds were enough to rattle the seemingly sturdy pane, a shudder akin to the one currently running down her spine at the mere thought of potentially having been lost out there.

Upon the realization, she was growing increasingly more grateful to the man before her, leant against the adjacent couch as he stretched his limbs out across the floor. In the ambient glow of the fire and the comfort of the rustic scenery, (y/n) couldn't help but to briefly admire said savior. Tousled black locks, perhaps a bit outgrown and unruly yet still seemly. Strong features meeting soft ones—round almond eyes with a sharp edge, chiseled jaw smoothed and rounded like a marble statue, a sloped nose adorned with a birthmark at the tip, an overall impressive visage.

Even past the smile growing fainter by the second and the charming characteristics of the man, (y/n) could see he had an air of maturity to him. Eyes that have experienced the best of life and the worst, darkened with the burden of knowledge he's accumulated through his years. He was strong, that much was evident, from the imposing frame hidden beneath the worn material of his sweater, though also simply from how he manages to carry himself with such a tired expression.

Soon came the inevitable return to neutrality, and with a sigh, coincided by a long and contemplative stare into the flames, he spoke once more.

"You seem rattled. Better than you were before, but still shaken up." She remained silent, gripping the mug of tea in her hands as if it were a lifeline. As if it would magically transport her away from the circumstance she's barred in. She was rattled. She was shaken. She was also scared beyond belief, worried for what was to happen to her. So many thoughts swirling in her head that she couldn't possibly pinpoint one thing and elaborate on it. Though the man, ever the saint he was, seemed to grasp this with just a single glance her way. "I'm not going to hurt you. If I wanted you dead, I'd have left you out there in the cold." (y/n) didn't really know how to respond to this in general, though her sentiment seemed to carry through as the man continued. "You can stay here for the night. There's a spare room prepared, as well as extra clothes–"

"No!" (y/n) softly interjected, leaning forward in her seat. Though her voice was weak and tired, it had thrown the man off for a second, brows furrowed in confusion as she hesitantly sat back in her seat. It was difficult to meet his eyes, far too observant for her comfort. Even as her gaze traced the intricate stitch work of the rug beneath them, she could still feel that penetrative stare of his probing her, already attempting to work out what could have possibly encouraged her first outburst since entering this cabin. "I… I really shouldn't. I need to head out. I can just wait out the storm in my car. Then head over to the nearest town to get help."

It was silent as she finished wording her plan of attack, however vague and unconvincing as it was, with only the accompaniment of a crackling fire to fill the silent atmosphere. Her hands twitched along the hot ceramic surface of the mug, nervously tapping the pads of her fingers along the sides as she awaited his response.

Eventually, after a moment of deliberation on his part, he had shifted once more from his comfortable position, returning to the crouched form he had taken when she had first come to. He tilted his head to meet her gaze, a wry grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"What's your name, kid?" He asked, voice low and cautious, as if approaching a wounded animal.

(y/n) must've looked something like one after everything which had transpired thus far. Though she couldn't deny how approachable and kindhearted he seemed, giving her enough space to breathe though still attempting to reach out as much as he could without startling her off. He was resourceful, clever, yet still held that human charm of helpfulness.

So it came as no shock when she silently muttered her name to him, eyes retreating to the cream liquid of her drink.

"(y/n)," he repeated, allowing the syllables to roll from his tongue, familiarizing himself with the sound of the name. "I'm Mingyu."

"Mingyu…" She almost immediately copied him, saying his name aloud to grow accustomed to it as he did hers. And as she did so, he offered a warm and inviting smile.

"(y/n), you know as well as I do why you shouldn't go back out there." Once again, he was right. Though she didn't want to admit it. She didn't want to accept defeat so quickly. But of course, he could see the resilience in her eyes. With a tired sigh, he continued on. "If you were to leave now, you'd be lucky to have made it to your car. Your car is about… 150 feet away from the cabin right now. I've known people who have died from less of a trek in storms smaller than this."

She shrunk back with each of his words, curling into herself as best as she could, wishing to just disappear from it all.

"If you did make it to your car through some miracle, you'd be met with a metal freezer whose only difference between it and the outside is the lack of snow. That is if you can even open your car door with all the snow piling outside as we speak." He softly grasped the mug in her hand, as if somehow knowing she didn't want to hold it anymore, allowing her to curl into herself even more, wrapping the oversized sweater around her body. "If you did survive the walk to your car and the night in it, you'll be met with a 5-mile walk to the nearest town through temperatures just a few degrees warmer than right now, and snow that is not bound to have melted at this point. Again, I've known people to die walking in conditions like this."

This was probably the nail in the coffin for her, staving off the onslaught of frustrated tears threatening to slip by as he finished his analysis of sorts regarding her game plan and its flaws. And as ever perceptive as he was, Mingyu ceased speaking, watching as she toiled with herself, mind in turmoil from her ever escalating plight. Though aside from the clear agitation which came with the situation her reckless and hasty decisions have brought upon her, another clear source of her distress came with the fact that what Mingyu said was entirely true and realistic. Something with which deep down she had already come to terms with, yet adamantly refused in her foolhardy, youthful mien. Those frustrated tears were from being in a situation with only one solution she did not want to accept, but had to.

"There's a spare bedroom. You can shower and change into dry clothes. I'll see if I can check out your car tomorrow." Mingyu watched carefully as (y/n) frowned to herself, brows tense and eyes determinedly glaring at the intricate knitwork of the blanket on her lap. With a careful touch, he placed his hand above the fabric resting over her shin, drawing her eyes back to him. "Okay?"

Another beat of silence and a timid glance to the window, as if hoping, praying for the snow to let up even a minute fraction, though to no avail, (y/n) hesitantly nodded, finally agreeing to his words.

She allowed Mingyu to guide her through his cabin, down a hall to the very end where the bathroom resided.

It was quaint, bearing only the necessities of a bathroom. A tub, a curtain ring shrouding it from above, a shower head attached to the wall. Beside it was the toilet, and next to that was the sink. On the opposing wall was a towel rack, and there was little to no decor or personal motifs anywhere. Just barren walls, the shade of sandy beaches, with wooden floors like the rest of the abode.

Mingyu worded instructions to her, explaining the shower mechanics regarding the skewed hot and cold functions, briefly leaving her alone and returning with towels and clothes.

"And when you're done, you can just leave your clothes here. I'll wash them later for you." He completed his speech and turned to her once more. Silence fell upon the two as they stared awkwardly at one another, both unsure of what to do next, though Mingyu was the first to move, mumbling a brief farewell as he slipped out of the small bathroom, leaving her to do what she must.

Upon being alone once more, (y/n) began her journey of processing. Though sufficiently warmed at this point, her limbs felt numb, as if having an out-of-body experience. As if she herself was not presently in her person. Looking into the mirror furthered that alien feeling which plagued her mind.

Hair tousled by the impending snow and wind, eyes reddened and puffy, swamped by this woolen sweater that was quite possibly thrice her size. She looked like a kicked puppy, and was honestly quite surprised that Mingyu looked at her with not even a hint of pity—merely taking her in out of the kindness of his heart.

She didn't know for how long she remained in that shower, allowing the hot water to wash her troubles away. Perhaps her tears allowed themselves to slip by, though she'd be none the wiser, warm streams incessantly cascading down unto her as she drowned out her worries.

As of right now, she was safe. And like Mingyu said, if he wanted her dead, he'd have left her out there in the snowstorm. She's away from the cold, Mingyu will check her car when the snow slows down, and she'll be on her merry way.

She gathered what little will remained in her depleted form and finished washing herself, dispelling the remnants of chill which had once lingered in her before stepping out of the shower. She grimaced feeling the hard wood beneath her feet, though persevered in drying off and changing into the clothes.

As opposed to the sweater from before, which she assumed belonged to Mingyu himself, the clothes she wore seemed more fitting to her now, albeit a little big, though nothing to complain about. Another wool sweater, intricate cable knitting seamlessly woven into an articulate pattern, paired with worn flannel pants.

She took another moment to herself, stamping out any remaining nerves buzzing about in her, before slipping out of the bathroom. The hallway was dark with only the main portion of the cabin to light her way like a beacon, though even through the shroud of black encasing her, she could tell the walls of the hall were just as devoid of life as the bathroom was. She quietly padded her way down the corridor, eyes slowly scanning for any frames on the wall or decorative items she could use to pin down his character, though was met with nothing. Nothing but the low humming of a voice, carried throughout the house and guiding her directly to the kitchen.

Once again, quaint seemed to best fit the area. Weathered cabinets and counters lined two adjacent walls. On one end was a fridge, and nestled between two counters was that of an antique stove and oven. Mingyu occupied himself there, humming a nonsensical tune while stirring something in a pot. He hadn't acknowledged (y/n)'s presence until he reached over for something and was only able to see her figure in the corner of his eye, causing him to whirl around and fully face her. Fear riddled his eyes for a moment before he sighed out of relief.

"You need to wear a bell or something," He spoke, pressing a hand to his heart as he turned back to his cooking.

"Did you think Bigfoot snuck into your cabin?" (y/n) joked, smiling to herself when Mingyu tossed her a glare over his shoulder.

"I have high hopes that I'd have been able to hear Bigfoot approaching." With a humored huff, he gestured over to the table against the wall. "Take a seat. I'm almost done."

Abiding by his instruction, she slipped into one of the two available seats, curiously watching him move about like a seasoned Michelin chef in his element. Even with the light atmosphere from their casual exchange, there was still an understandable weight in her chest. Seated in a foreign environment with a stranger wielding a knife in her presence, albeit to chop vegetables, though still with the potential to turn it on her at a moment's notice.

Perhaps it was her bad decisions still choosing to muck about her life some more, but in her eyes, it was undeniable how harmless Mingyu seemed. From how carefully he stirred at whatever stew he was brewing, continued his low hum to fill the emptiness of the room, to even the apron he had carefully tied around himself. He seemed… mundane. Nothing particularly unorthodox or concerning in his otherwise average persona. Merely the embodiment of a gentle giant.

"Here, eat up. You must be hungry." He slid a bowl of soup in front of her before taking the seat opposite with his own serving. She hadn't realized how hungry she truly was until the scent of his cooking hit her nose, and she began silently eating. The warmth of the broth soothed her insides, settling itself cozily in her like a remedy to the grueling night she's had thus far. And while the bitter winds beat against the seemingly impenetrable cabin, she couldn't help but smile in the warmth, comfort, and food given to her all by Mingyu.

"Thank you…" (y/n) spoke, placing her spoon down momentarily. Her eyes were hesitant in meeting his, though when she did look up to him, there was a mixture of surprise and another, more alien expression imbibed in his gaze. He had blinked it away, returning to his soup with a gruff noise emitting from his throat, as if acknowledging her statement though not wanting to make anything of it. Her mind had settled, however in the midst of eating, and with the floodgates now opened, the only solution was to let her emotions run their course. "I mean it. Like you said, I'd probably be dead out there by now if it weren't for you." He was silent, opting to continue his meal, though (y/n) took no offense to it, also going for her spoon once more, smile still on her face. "And thank you for the soup. It's very tasty."

The rest of dinner was quiet, but a surprisingly comfortable silence. (y/n) could feel her defenses crumbling with every passing moment, and while the logical part of her brain screamed for some, or quite literally any, form of precaution when being trapped in a strange lumberman's cabin in the woods with no reception and no means of escape, she couldn't seem to find any hostility in Mingyu's demeanor, and thus no immediate call for reinforcements in the form of paranoia.

There was something strangely sweet in eating a home cooked meal served by a colossal hermit who avoided looking at her, and she enjoyed the brief dinner encounter between the two.

"Thank you again for the meal, Mingyu," (y/n) spoke as the two walked down the hall to their respective rooms, after having finished their supper and packed away leftovers. And just as before, Mingyu responded with an affirmative grunt, eyes downcast and avoiding her once more.

"You should get some rest," Mingyu finally responded, head gesturing to the door opposite his own. "You've had a long day. Your clothes should be dry by tomorrow. You can change after breakfast."

And with that, he slipped away into his room, a soft click as his door shut behind him. (y/n) was left staring for another moment more, curiosity far too piqued regarding Mingyu's sudden closed off manner, though chose to dwell on the matter in the comfort of her temporary lodgings.

The room was rustic, much like the rest of her current accommodation, as well as devoid of any personal adornments again. It was equipped with the necessities, that being a large bed, an armoire and a dresser, a mirror, and a large armchair nestled into the corner. The bedframe was broad and sturdy, a simple design made of a dark wood, with multiple layers of comforter and blankets stacked upon each other. It felt as if she were unearthing a deep treasure just to reach the mattress, though the accumulation of sheets was a welcomed sight as the stagnant air proved much too chilly for comfort.

The sheets were stiff and the room held a delicate mustiness to it, reminiscent of time suspended and undisturbed. Though there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere her eyes landed, there was a hint of its familiar scent, that subtle earthy undertone derived from nature reclaiming its space through the lack of human presence. The wood of the bed frame was aged, creaking as she climbed into its embrace, the vessel further moaning from lack of use as she settled in for the night.

The circumstances of her chambers only further heightened her curiosity with Mingyu. What was a man like him doing out here in this state? The cabin held no sort of personality. No picture frames bearing his depiction, no knick knacks to start conversation, not even the decrepit and horrifying deer head she'd have imagined would hang over the mantle of the fire. Her clothes were large, though nowhere near as large as Mingyu is, and so it only strikes the question of whose wardrobe is she currently wearing?

Though many of her questions also revolved around Mingyu himself. He seemed kind, bringing in a random stranger in distress without any further thought, as well as making sure she's as comfortable as he could possibly manage. He seemed resourceful, as well as intelligent in many ways. Someone who could evaluate situations at hand, supposedly work on a car himself, and even cook one of the most delicious soups she'd ever have the pleasure of eating.

He was also undeniably attractive. Older with worn out and tired features, as if having experienced life in the most tumultuous of ways, though also strong with this twinkle in his eyes, like a child just dying to be released and enjoy what few pleasures life has to offer. His smile from before remained in her thoughts, the charming way his eyes crinkled and the crease of his laugh lines following its familiar yet unused folds along the planes of his face. It was saddening to see that momentary spark of happiness seem to dissolve during dinner, though it only encouraged more of her prying thoughts as to what caused such a dramatic shift in him.

Perhaps he had reconsidered the events of tonight and regretted having taken her in? Maybe the regret hit him as he dusted this room or cooked the extra serving of soup. Perhaps he was merely tired. Maybe he had as strenuous a day as she did. Or perhaps her unwanted presence had left him perturbed in the most disquieting of ways. Maybe she had without realizing uncovered something he had wanted buried away for good.

The morning came sooner rather than later, (y/n) finding herself far too entrenched in the warmth and comfort granted by the large bed. Though unused as previously concluded, the blankets were a welcoming weight upon her exhausted form, and the pillows seemed to embrace her in their plush hold. So getting up felt like more of a chore than anything else, but she felt obligated to rise upon hearing Mingyu's door opening from outside her own.

Upon shuffling out of her room, she could see Mingyu moseying about in his own routine, starting a fire in the fireplace, folding her clothes and stacking them on his couch, beginning breakfast for the two of them, all whilst not even acknowledging her watching from afar. She was still attempting to quell the tiredness from her eyes, leant against the corner of the wall as she emerged from the hallway.

To her right was the kitchen, where the sound of sizzling filled the otherwise still atmosphere. Mingyu stood at the forefront of the stove once more, broad back shielding her from getting a glimpse at whatever concoction he was conjuring up today. Though if the stew from yesterday served as any indication to his track record, she knew she would be looking forward to breakfast as well.

To her left was a large, empty space. There stood a second door to the outside, its windows unveiling a winter wonderland of sorts of an entirely white landscape, though aside from such a picturesque sight, the corner of the cabin offered nothing more.

Redirecting her attention to Mingyu again, she approached him, much like the day before, on light feet and hidden from his peripheral, grinning to herself once more as she deemed herself close enough. Closer than yesterday, to warrant more of a response from the estranged man before her.

He seemed in his own world, low voice humming another silly tune to fill the void. She imagined it's habitual from living on his own for so long. To fill the emptiness by any means he can, even as the pan sizzles an accompaniment to his song. And once more, she's left wondering, ever so curious why such a capable man like Mingyu was left a recluse in the middle of nowhere.

"Jesus," Mingyu hisses out as he catches her in the corner of his eye, flinching back and banging his leg against the stove with a harsh thud and an accompanying groan. This snapped (y/n) out of her potential stupor, instead prompting a laugh out of her as she took her seat by the table. "A bell, please!"

"Where's the fun in that?" Mingyu grumbled at her response, returning to cooking with a furrow in his brows. (y/n) couldn't help but hum appreciatively at his annoyed expression, a welcoming reaction to her early shenanigans, and a nice start to a hopefully equally nice day. "Good morning, Mingyu."

"Morning." He replied curtly, turning from his stove with two plates of food, plopping one unceremoniously down in front of her before taking his seat across. Even with his cranky demeanor, though it felt anything but genuine, (y/n) grinned, thanking him once more for the food as they ate silently again.

Her eyes wandered for the umpteenth time. Whether it was to get a better grasp of the place, memorize it before she leaves it, or to still try and decipher why it was so empty, she hadn't any idea. Though perhaps it was a combination of all three. Because by the end of the day, she'd be off and back in her route, and Mingyu will presumably remain doing whatever it is he does in such an empty shell of a home—if it could even be called one.

"So do you like… rent this place or something?" (y/n) found herself speaking her thoughts aloud, glancing around the walls once more before landing on a slightly bewildered Mingyu, cheeks puffed with food. Though his surprise dissipated rather quickly, eyes now narrowed in a suspicious stare, clearly not trusting the apparent jester he had invited into his home. (y/n) snickered with a roll of her eyes. "What? I just feel entitled to ask. I should know a little about the guy I'm currently staying with, yeah?"

Mingyu chewed for a moment more, swallowing and already going for another scoop of food.

"No." His answer was abrupt and firm, as if an end to the conversation. Or at least the end to the conversation for anyone that wasn't her.

"So you live here?" Mingyu quirked a brow at the obvious answer to the question, but still confirmed either way with his signature grumble. (y/n) scanned the place again with an uncommitted hum, hearing what he was saying, though in astonishment at the response.

"What? Shocking to see a homeowner these days?" Mingyu chimed, watching (y/n) as she gazed about aimlessly.

"Not what I meant," she chuckled out, fork briefly picking at her food as she revisited her thoughts. "It's just… it doesn't feel like a home, I guess."

The conversation died at that point. Neither a response from Mingyu on the matter or a redirecting of the topic. She went back to eating, and from her peripheral, she could see a deliberating Mingyu staring at her. He froze in his seat, stiff as a statue whilst seemingly so deep in thought it was impossible to break his concentration. Though eventually, it seemed he snapped out of it, also returning to his meal without so much as another grumble. To others, it would seem as if he chose to ignore her statement, but she was beginning to read Mingyu just as well as he read her.

He knew what she was getting at—he just didn't want to address it.

It was enough of a revelation for (y/n) to realize there was more to unravel in this supposed mystery of Mingyu's life, though she opted not to pry. What would be the benefit of becoming invested in a story she'd inevitably have to leave? To stir up unwarranted trouble only to depart midway through, leaving behind a man forced to rebury whatever trauma he had wanted to remain hidden away. And though her curiosity was entirely piqued, she refrained from saying anything more, silently retreating to her room after breakfast to change back into her clothes so they could brave the storm's aftermath outside.

Mingyu had looked at her with a critical eye as she emerged forth adorning her yesterday's attire. Sneakers, leggings, and a long padded coat that brushed along her knees. Of course beneath the coat were more layers, including her sweaters she'd worn the night before to stave off the cold, as well as the sweater she had received yesterday, which she could only assume was Mingyu's. Though even with her puffed appearance, limbs stiff from the amount of items obstructing her movement, Mingyu grunted in disapproval, disappearing momentarily down the hall.

He emerged seconds later, a pair of jeans and boots in his possession. (y/n) flinched as he dropped the boots before her with a loud thud, and handed her the pants with a furrow to his brow.

"You're not leaving the house wearing that." He dismissively staggered off elsewhere without another word, and (y/n) was left watching his retreating form.

It was interesting, she thought. How many shades of Mingyu she had come across in less than a day. At first, he seemed rather talkative, playful jabs at her intuition, careful attempts at approaching her, all calculated and friendly in his mannerisms. Though progressively, he's resorted to a more quiet demeanor, communicating through mere grunts and curt statements, as if distancing himself before he even had the chance of getting closer to her.

Perhaps it was for the best. Better to leave with a curious mind than with a sated yet attached soul. Though her curiosity was ever so persistent in its quest to discover the truth, she'd have to accept whatever assumptions she could make from the context clues she's picked up so far. That there's truly a man of Mingyu's caliber alone in the woods with nothing and no one.

And as she tugged on the allotted jeans, she also came to the conclusion that there must have once been a woman living here before, as the jeans, albeit large, fit to her figure surprisingly well. The boots as well, not necessarily pertaining to her own stature, gave the insinuation of once belonging to a larger woman.

As (y/n) stood there momentarily deliberating what this could insinuate, Mingyu reappeared, silently assessing her from where he resided. She met his gaze, watching as a muted conflict toiled in his eyes, though was buried away when he approached her, crouching to tuck the pants into her boots.

"This'll do for now," he responded lowly, rising to his full height once more. He pulled aside the flannel curtain, analyzing the outside conditions before tugging open the door, stepping out and allowing her to get a good view of the outside for the first time.

It was astonishing, to say the least. White as far as the eye can see, which wasn't necessarily much, as the dense brush of pine trees cut off what resided beyond the small clearing in front of Mingyu's cabin. The earth was completely encased by snow, sparing not even a blade of grass to tarnish the homogeneity of the monochrome landscape; not even the pine needles could be seen, tasked with the burden of carrying piles of snow in its embrace.

It felt almost sacrilegious to step into the thick blanket below, feet sinking into the plush ground with a satisfying crunch. The cold had instantly penetrated whatever skin it could seek, seeping into her body and chilling her bones from within. Mingyu walked ahead effortlessly, leaving her to catch up, clumsily plodding through the snow like a newborn fawn.

To her, it all looked the same. Trees stretching up to the grayed skies, bobbing and weaving between the narrow passages they offered. At times, she had to glance back just to verify that her footsteps were being marked by the terrain beneath her, just to ensure she had a way to return without getting lost. Yet Mingyu seemed wholly unbothered by the ordeal, expertly navigating through the thicket as if it were marked roads; the trained eyes of a lumberjack, she supposed.

Eventually, they emerged from the woods, and she sighed in relief upon seeing her helpless car still resting along the side of the buried road. The vehicle itself had been near covered in snow, and she grimaced imagining having slept there for the night. (y/n) watched as Mingyu approached the front of the car, brushing off the snow before propping open the hood.

As he got to work analyzing her car, she absentmindedly approached the driver's side, tugging open the door, still unlocked from her ordeal the night before, and taking a seat on the cold leather of the chair. It felt somewhat surreal to be sitting there once more, in the potential metal coffin had she not been swept away by Mingyu. Her sorry excuse of a map crumpled in the passenger seat, empty snack bags tossed haphazardly through her journey, her phone still helplessly tossed aside. It was low on battery, though still alive, with no reception at all. Still, it felt comforting for her to hold it again, ever reliant on the device in her day and age.

"So where were you headed?" Mingyu asked aloud from where he was leant into her vehicle, startling (y/n) for a second with the low timbre of his voice. She stood from her seat, ambling over to Mingyu in the same clunky manner as before.

"Huh?" She finally managed to get out as she neared, still attempting to process the question through her muddled mind. There was a hint of a smile tugging at Mingyu's lips before he dared a glance at (y/n).

"Aren't I entitled to ask the girl living in my home what her life story is?" The response had her pursing her lips, attempting to hold back the laugh which threatened to bubble out of her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. Though the clear delight written across her face upon hearing his remark was enough to have Mingyu grinning victoriously to himself, returning to the car's plight.

"Can't believe I'm living with a mechanic and a comedian. What a package deal." Mingyu rolled his eyes at this, though remained silent as she continued on. "I was heading to a resort where my parents were expecting me." He hummed in response, prompting her to continue even as his eyes remained glued to his work. (y/n) found herself scratching the back of her head in embarrassment, knowing what was to come, though also realizing there was nothing more she could possibly do to prevent the inevitable. "And my flight was canceled so…"

Mingyu paused, slowly turning to face her with a skeptical look across his face.

"Your flight was canceled?" She nodded at his question, eyes darting to and fro though never landing on him.

"Yeah… Due to bad weather…"

There was a beat of silence between the two, quiet enough to possibly hear a pin drop had it not been for the winter winds brushing past the duo. Though in a moment's notice, loud and rowdy laughter burst forth from Mingyu, filling the air with raucous glee emanating from the stoic giant himself. He had turned away from the car, leant forward with his hands on his knees and his back facing (y/n), continuing to just laugh his heart out.

Still feeling the remnants of humiliation from before, (y/n) couldn't help but to also smile at Mingyu's glee, something she had almost forgotten not only existed but had happened just the day before. She was now realizing his smiles were few and far—something which would have to be treasured on these rare occurrences in which they did fleetingly occur.

"So you thought you could brave the storm on your own?" Mingyu asked as he turned back to her, face reddened from his momentary fit of laughter. (y/n) bit her lips, hesitantly nodding at his inquiry. Another amused huff out of him, and Mingyu was returning to the car as if nothing had happened, shutting the hood with a loud shutter. "Kid, you are something else, I'll give you that."

He had begun to walk off, and (y/n) quickly snagged her duffel bag from the backseat before rushing back to him in a panic, dragging her feet through the dense snow obstructing their way lest she lose her guide with his persistently long strides.

"So what's wrong with my car?" (y/n) asked shakily, managing to catch up with Mingyu's pace, though barely being able to maintain such endurance.

"Battery."

"Battery?"

"I think your battery died."

"My battery died?"

"Probably."

(y/n) furrowed her brows in thought, breaths labored as she began to finally slow down and lag behind, allowing him to walk ahead.

"Why would it die? Do I need to charge it?"

Mingyu was silent for a moment as he persisted through the snow, just long enough of a delay for her to acknowledge the lapse in discourse.

"It happens sometimes in the cold. Usually when the car is inactive, but I guess with the cold and your long trip, it overexerted your battery."

"What do we do?"

"I know a mechanic in town. I'll talk to him about checking it out and verifying. If it can be jump started, then we're good. If not, you'll probably need a new battery."

"I can get a new battery?"

"Kid–" Mingyu suddenly stopped in both his speech and his route, sighing to himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He turned to look at (y/n), standing there huffing in exhaustion with her bag practically dragging behind her weak form. Sympathetically, he approached, taking the strap into his hands and gently pulling it from her grasp, haphazardly tossing it over his own shoulders. Another look at her, and Mingyu sighed in defeat. "Yes, you can change batteries."

"How do you know my battery is dead?" He had begun walking again, knowing her questions would be spitfiring at this point and at this point just wanting to get inside as soon as possible.

"I don't, but from context clues alone, it seems to be the problem."

"Have you changed a battery before?"

"Yes."

"How hard is it?"

"Easier than changing a tire for me."

"How hard is that?"

By now, they'd made it to the clearing outside his cabin, a mere few feet from the sanctity of the house, but he was forced to stop once more, rooted in his place and staring at (y/n) with an incredulous and almost worried look in his eyes. (y/n) was none the wiser, watching Mingyu with large curious eyes, awaiting his answer as if having asked the most normal of questions humanly possible. As if having not admitted how entirely unprepared she was for whatever heroic trek she had stumbled into thoughtlessly.

"You've never changed a tire before?" Again, as casually as ever, she shook her head no, staring at Mingyu as his face contorted from that initial shock of the moment to something akin to pity. Not necessarily directed towards her; perhaps, instead, to her situation as a whole.

He took a deep breath as he finally stepped into his cabin, not really knowing how long he'd stood there staring in awe, though immediately marched his way over to her room, tossing the duffel bag unceremoniously onto the bed and awaiting for its owner to arrive. Once she did, Mingyu gestured towards the bag.

"Show me what you packed." (y/n) was left stunned in her place, gloved hands nervously picking at the zipper of her coat, as if waiting for Mingyu to either elaborate or just dismiss his statement as a joke. Though he continued to stand there as resolute as ever.

There was this hardened look in his, complementing his equally stone-like bearing as he stood there, towering above her with his arms crossed and a permanent scowl etched into his features. Even with his imposing figure, (y/n) could sense no hostility in his mannerisms, the man as docile as he seemingly always is. That fact hadn't deterred her nerves from flaring beneath her many layers, prickling with anxiety as to what he could possibly be insinuating.

"What I… packed?" (y/n) softly asked, glancing to the pathetic cream colored bag lying defenselessly across the bed. Mingyu hummed in confirmation, taking a step back and granting her space to do as he said.

With not much choice, nor any real reason not to follow his bidding, she warily approached the bag. The deafening zip of its seal sounded through the otherwise still room, and she began to slowly unpack the contents within. Somehow, she felt even more embarrassed now than when she admitted moments ago that she willingly drove into a snowstorm. And Mingyu's silence didn't help the matter at all.

The man simply hovered behind her, staring down at the arrangement of clothes scattered across the bed. (y/n) remained where she was, allowing Mingyu to stretch his arm past her to retrieve one of the many sweaters piled together. He rubbed the material between his thumb and index, scrutinizing the fabric for everything it's worth, and he proceeded to do the same procedure on her pants as well.

"You were going to a resort?" He asked, deep voice shattering the tense atmosphere.

"Yes." Her voice was soft, barely above a breath; a compete contrast to the assertive tone of Mingyu's. He stepped away, sparing one last glance at her wardrobe before turning around and leaving the room.

"We'll have to buy you better sweaters," he announced as he wandered off, once more leaving (y/n) to quickly scurry after him. "And better pajamas. The jeans are fine. Maybe some long underwear to go along with it."

"What's wrong with my clothes?" She asked, bounding out the door after Mingyu, grimacing as the harsh winds beat against her exposed face once more.

"Won't keep you warm."

The statement was, much like everything else he's said thus far, blunt. Uttered with that same serious, unwavering tone of his. Not even spoken directly to her face as he walked off, but she couldn't help but pause. Standing there in the snow, staring ahead as Mingyu made his way to the large truck off to the side of the clearing. At this point, she knew Mingyu. It's been perhaps a few hours altogether that they've been in each other's company, but she's confident in saying she knew him. She knew how he spoke. She knew how he conducted himself. She knew how closed off he was.

She knew that simple statement was perhaps the kindest thing he could've possibly stated.

It had already been a given that beneath that cold, rough exterior of his which he seemed to tirelessly preserve every second he could, he was a kind and gentle soul, but it just touched her heart to see that tender side of his emanating through the cracks of his facade.

"Let's go, kid." His voice, projecting across the clearing to where she had remained motionless for who knows how long, suddenly jostled her back to reality, shaking away the delirium to see Mingyu standing, passenger door open. He gestured with a nod of his head to the seat. "We're heading into town."

Picturesque.

It was the first word to come to mind as they drove into town. An idyllic little settlement in the middle of presumably nowhere. A plethora of mom-and-pop shops greeted her as they drove down main street, family owned businesses with their own quaint peculiarities; a welcoming difference from the ubiquitous monotony of modern architecture in the city. Instead, everything here felt outdated, away from the all-encompassing grasp of capitalism that condemned everything to that trademark minimalistic existence that encapsulates society for mere marketing purposes.

In a word, refreshing.

Even with the piles of snow scattered about and pushed aside, people were seen walking down the sidewalks and walkways, popping in and out of shops and mingling with one another. Another rarity for someone who has lived in the city all her life, accustomed to the avoidance tactics I trained in her so she wouldn't have to make eye contact with people. She admired the idealistic scene presented here, head pressed against the cool glass of the window, watching the sights pass her by like a vintage film reel.

"Does everyone live in the woods like you?" (y/n) asked, smiling at the sight of a man walking his little white dog. Another moment of silence from Mingyu, as if deep in thought, considering what to say, always calculating ways to give her just enough information to sate her, yet never giving too much away.

"No," he answered. "They all live together in town. Everyone knows each other. Everyone is each other's neighbor."

"That's cool," (y/n) responded, peeling herself from the glass to look at Mingyu. He was impassive, merely staring straight ahead, left arm propped against the door with his head resting on his fist whilst gripping the steering wheel with his right. He spared her not even a glance, already knowing her inquisitive self just as she knows him. She gazed out the window another time, this time seeing an elderly man helping his wife down the steps of a storefront, bringing a bittersweet smile to (y/n)'s face. "To have that sense of community with people. Hanging out with loved ones, saying hello to people who pass by… Never having to be alone."

"Yeah."

She didn't comment this time. No snide remarks or a random spree of questions. Not even another probing glance at Mingyu. Because this time, unlike their other conversations thus far, there was a consensus. A silent accord between the two of them. A yearning that neither wanted to address. A commonality shrouded by mysterious, untold backgrounds of the both of them. And something which may never resurface before she's off and away from this place, bidding Mingyu and whatever story he holds deep within his heart farewell for good.

Why did it hurt so much to think about that already?

Mingyu pulled over to the side of the road, unbuckling and stepping out, prompting (y/n) to follow suit and trail behind Mingyu.

'Jeon Mechanics' is what the faded blue sign read. Much like the other storefronts of the town, this one was nestled between two other establishments on either side, not really sparing room for a garage of sorts that (y/n) would usually associate mechanics with.

Walking into the place, she was bombarded by the thick stench of rubber and oil as it lingered heavily in the air, causing her to grimace some before gradually adjusting to the scent. Mingyu seemed unbothered as he approached the back of the store. Each and every aisle was barren, devoid of any life, and (y/n) would've believed the place to be closed had it not been for the rapid knocking that drew her to Mingyu once more.

Emerging from a closed office, an equally tall man appeared. Crudely cut and choppy hair that somehow, with its generally messy ensemble, worked well for his sharp and attractive features. Upon seeing Mingyu, the man smiled, pushing his wire framed glasses further up his nose as a smile spread across his face.

"Mingyu," he spoke fondly, reaching out to hug the man. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? It's been ages since I last saw you."

Mingyu briefly reciprocated the hug with a warm smile of his own, though still faint. Hesitant, almost. The hug was quick and ended abruptly, characteristic of Mingyu's persona, though the man seemed none the wiser to his friend's mannerisms. By the time the man's eyes met (y/n)’s, Mingyu had begun speaking.

"This is (y/n)." Mingyu briefly gestured towards the girl behind him. "Her car broke down. I think it's a battery issue. Do you think you could drive down to the cabin when you have the time and check it out?"

The man merely stared at (y/n), eyes slightly widened, as if startled by her appearance that he hadn't noticed prior. She could see him attempting to mask that surprise, returning his gaze to Mingyu with a nod.

"Yeah, I can check it out. But if you think it's a battery issue, I'm just going to assume it's a battery issue." He briefly replied, voice wavering some, though Mingyu didn't seem to notice, or at least didn't seem to care as he turned back to (y/n).

"Go to the general store down the road. It should be a few shops away. Ask Martha for sweaters and pajamas."

(y/n) nodded, bidding the mechanic adieu, who was still staring at her with this perturbed expression across his face. It was unsettling, as if he'd seen an alien, and it only had her mind spiraling as she left his store. She briefly, albeit humorously, explored the popular concept of those tucked away towns in movies, tight knit communities that conspire with one another to conceal murders in their morbid ritualistic tendencies, taking tourists so no one can trace it back to them. And looking around at all the smiling faces, this place seemed to have the potential to be that unhinged.

But the silly idea had washed away the moment she walked into the general store—quite literally titled 'General Store.'

"Good morning," a chipper voice greeted (y/n) as she walked in, her entry accompanied by a bell chiming above her head. An elderly woman came circling the cash register, making her way towards her. She had kind eyes with an equally kind smile, face marred with wrinkles from a life well lived. Grayed and wiry hair neatly curled along her shoulders, pink pins holding it in place, matching with the pink earrings dangling from her ears. She had briefly looked over (y/n), a simple once over to the unfamiliar stranger, and her smile seemed to grow even warmer. "Oh, are you visiting?"

"Yes, for now at least," (y/n) responded, grinning back to the woman, all prior frivolous thoughts of abduction and ritualistic sacrifice now buried away as she returned to reality. "My… guide told me to buy sweaters and pajamas here? Would that be alright?"

"Of course!" The woman placed a gentle hand on (y/n)'s back, ushering her further down one of the aisles to a corner of clothing. It wasn't a necessarily large assortment of clothes given the rather small and crammed building, though it was a staggering amount considering how this seemed to be the only nook of the store which housed these items. "These are our winter clothes, so anything from here should be good for you."

"I'm sorry to bother you again," (y/n) quickly sputtered out before the woman could hobble off. "I'm not sure what he really wants from me. He says he wants me to be warm… Could you give me recommendations?"

"Certainly, dear!" She returned to (y/n)'s side thumbing through the selection carefully, pulling out sweaters upon sweaters and handing them to (y/n). "Seems like a nice man you've got there."

"Yes, he really is." There wasn't much she knew of Mingyu, that much was for certain. There were many things she still questioned about him, and perhaps will forever question. He was closed off and forever distant. He was rough around the edges, terse in his mannerisms, and overall a conflicting character to try and unravel. But one thing was for certain, an undeniable facet of Mingyu that seemed to transcend his many other layers, and that was that he was perhaps the most gentle soul she'd ever met, or perhaps will ever meet. A kindness that remained shrouded by his other characteristics, though still managed to claw its way out of the darkness that plagued Mingyu's entity.

Even as she paid for the clothes, she couldn't help but to silently hope this pleased him. It seemed Mingyu constantly gave, yet never received. There wasn't much she could offer. Merely the fact that she took his advice and did well in following it.

"Thank you for your help today!" (y/n) smiled as she lifted the hefty bags of her new outfits. The woman giggled, waving off (y/n)'s gratitude.

"I should be thanking you!" She insisted. "I'll sleep well tonight knowing I had the pleasure of dressing such a lovely lady."

(y/n) left the store smiling, bidding Martha farewell and once more facing the unforgiving cold of the outside. Ahead of her on the side of the road was Mingyu, leant against his truck, staring off into space. His features were tensed, his jaw clenched and his brows stitched together. What in the world could have happened to a man like Mingyu? What has he endured to be this reclusive? The question ate away at her. She had no right to invade his life. He invited her in out of the kindness of his heart, and all she's done thus far is psychoanalyze him and question his entire existence.

"I said a few new sweaters, not a whole new wardrobe." Mingyu's voice called out to her, drawing her back to reality as he drew closer.

"I'll have you know this was all very important. Martha wanted to dress me up as much as I wanted to be dressed up." Mingyu took the bags out of her hands, effortlessly lifting them and making his way back to his truck. "Plus, I love a good shopping trip." He snorted at her addition, rolling his eyes as he opened her door for her.

"Alright, get in." She could feel his hand resting on her back as she heaved herself into the truck, its staggering height an incessant obstacle of hers that now even Mingyu has taken it upon himself to ensure she doesn't all but fall and die. Once he was sure she was in her seat and secure, he closed the door, making his way around the front to his side.

Martha stood at the entrance of the store, watching the two with this soft, fond smile on her face. Mingyu had raised a hand her way, greeting her as she greeted him back. Her eyes lingered on them, even after Mingyu had climbed in and drove off, and (y/n) briefly wondered why. Perhaps it was a special occasion to see Mingyu in town and she wanted to savor the moment for as long as she could before he'd disappear in the woods again. At least that's all she could assume of the matter.

"Wonwoo has some appointments today," Mingyu spoke, breaking the silence within the vehicle as he drove down the long stretch back to the cabin. "He said he'll try to come over after work. Is that alright with you?"

"Of course," (y/n) insisted, turning away from the immutable scenery of forest and to the man staring ahead, that rigid, stoic expression plastered to his face once more. "I wouldn't want to disrupt his day. I can wait." It was quiet again with only the sounds of the low hum of white noise from the car driving. Again, (y/n) checked Mingyu's face, still unchanging. "As long as that's okay with you."

"Why would it matter to me?" He asked, voice low and muffled as he absentmindedly rubbed at his bottom lip with his free arm, propped up against the door once more.

"I'm sort of living in your house," (y/n) laughed out. "I don't want to burden you with my presence any longer if that's not what you want." His fingers had stopped, merely resting over his mouth when she finished her words. "I also value your opinion. You seem to know your stuff. I feel like if you told me to just go and build my own cabin, I'd probably find myself trying to do so just because you told me to."

Mingyu didn't respond this time. Not even with one of his noncommittal, absentminded grunts. Though (y/n) just chalked it up to the fact that they were now close to the cabin. There was a driveway of sorts, she noticed. A narrow path cleared of trees that you turn into from the main road, and it leads right to the clearing outside the house. How long had Mingyu been out here to have prepared all of this? To have actually created his own little road of sorts, made all of these accommodations for the sole purpose of removing himself from any sort of community? It was undeniably impressive, a true display of his undeniable will and perseverance, though also maddeningly concerning. How absolutely isolated Mingyu had forced himself to become.

"Go inside," Mingyu finally spoke, stopping the vehicle in its designated corner by the trees. His voice had startled her some, with its low rumble disturbing her thoughts and prompting her to look to him. "I'll carry your stuff in."

She didn't protest with him. On any other occasion, she'd probably argue, perhaps for the responsibility of at least one bag, but with one gander at Mingyu, it became obvious any sort of quarrel would be futile. The distant glaze in his eyes as he methodically turned off the truck and unbuckled his seatbelt, the lack of any glance towards her as if wary she'd press him more than she already has since meeting. He had closed himself off again.

With a final inhale, (y/n) followed his demand, slipping out from her seat and onto the snow with a muted crunch beneath her feet as she landed. Awkwardly trudging through the dense terrain, the atmosphere seemed deafeningly silent. There was the familiar sound of wind weaving between the tall pines, as well as that of the snow succumbing to the weight of her every step, and even distantly she could make out what seemed to sound like a rushing river.

Though there was no trace of Mingyu leaving. No sound of his heavy foot descending into the snow, nor the sound of his door slamming shut behind him. When the realization had come to her, she briefly glanced over at the truck, yet there was no sign of Mingyu getting her bags from the back as he had stated he'd do.

Once atop the front porch, she utilized the vantage point granted to check on him, only to see through the darkened rear window Mingyu's silhouette, still and unchanging as he sat there gripping his steering wheel. He stared ahead, only offering her an image of the back of his head, and (y/n) was left to speculate what could possibly be going on in it.

She didn't know for how long she stood there, arms wrapped around a wooden pillar of the cabin's porch, but she couldn't find it in herself to leave him behind. The sun had nearly reached its peak in the sky by the time Mingyu finally shifted, leaning his head back against his seat.

What could she have possibly said to trigger such a comatose state out of him? Her words were so insignificant to her that she had trouble even recounting what their conversation was about before he had gone silent. Though the lack of recollection didn't stop her from feeling immensely guilty. Perhaps she had offended him in some way without realizing. She didn't know his life, and so she couldn't avoid topics that could potentially trigger him.

The space between them had never felt more cavernous, and the only thought in her mind was how Mingyu was truly nothing more than a stranger to her. That connection with him that she'd seemed to conjure up in her mind over the past day was nothing more than a fanciful delusion. Perhaps a mechanism of her psyche to make her situation however comfortable it could possibly be. At the end of the day, however, Mingyu was just a kind man who had taken her into his home, and she was greatly overstaying her welcome and pushing more boundaries than should be tampered with.

The sound of the truck door opening drew her attention back to the truck, and she quietly watched as Mingyu gathered her shopping bags with ease, expression as blank as ever. His features were tense, a pinch in his brow that prompted an urge within her to rid his countenance of the tension, and his mouth was in a perpetual frown. Though when he turned to make his way to the cabin, his features dissipated when he came face to face with her. Albeit still a ways away.

"I thought I told you to head inside," he called forth, continuing his journey towards her, trekking through the snow without an ounce of struggle.

"I didn't hear you coming out of your truck." It was a simple response, as simple as she could make it without any form of personal opinion, though apparently not vague enough to go past Mingyu's radar. He glanced at her as he climbed the steps, but quickly walked by as he made his way inside.

"Come in. You'll catch a cold."

Mingyu had for the most part retreated to his room, opting to hide away for the remaining hours of the day and only briefly emerging to prepare lunch for the two of them. With the incident of earlier, though remaining unspoken between the two, had also encouraged (y/n) to follow suit in Mingyu's ways, choosing to remain within the sanctity of her own room, hesitant to wander the cabin—Mingyu's personal space— without his consent. Instead, she busied herself with folding her new clothes, checking for any reception, even meditating when the boredom truly hit.

The day passed by quickly, however, even with the strange atmosphere they'd created. Even going to the bathroom felt forbidden, lest she come across Mingyu, who she could only assume wanted to avoid her at all costs as well. And with the sun beginning to set, her hopes for Wonwoo repairing the car increased tenfold. Hopes that he'd arrive with the good news and she'd have a perfectly functional car once more.

A knock came soon after the sky had melted into this warm orange hue, the sunset hidden behind the sea of trees she resided in. A surge of excitement ran through her at the sound, and she all but leapt off the bed in a matter of seconds, ready to yank open the door and greet the mechanic once more, only to stop short at her own door once the implication of Wonwoo's presence truly settled in her head.

Sure, she'd have her car again, perhaps better than ever. She'd be able to finally meet with her parents as they had insisted, and she'd return to her normal day to day. Things would revert back to the way they've always been.

But also, with Wonwoo outside, it would also mean she'd really be leaving Mingyu today, and with no other reason to stay or return.

She'd leave with only the memory of his existence fresh in her mind, though inevitable to soon dissipate from her thoughts with time, as does the waning faculty of memory so often ensures. And when that time comes, what's there to be done? It felt terrifying to even consider. To perhaps one day forget everything of Mingyu.

It felt almost her obligation to be the sole holder of these memories of Mingyu, because if not her, then who? He was nestled away in the recesses of isolation, with only a distant town filled with people who each lived their own lives, and perhaps couldn't spare the sacrifice of remembering the desolate hermit within the woods.

The thought brought about a stern tension in her features, clenching her fists as she stared down at the grains of wood beneath her feet.

Mingyu saved her. He took her in. He went out of his way to ensure she could be safe during her stay and be able to proceed with her fixed car. Mingyu was brutish and curt, quiet and reserved. He preferred his own company to others, and at times his rough mannerisms can seem almost condescending in a way. But he was also inherently gentle. A kind soul within a foreboding vessel. Someone who would give his all for others and expect nothing back in return.

It was damn near unfair to be in such a situation as hers. To have to abide by the natural state of things, that being her approaching departure from Mingyu's care. It would be pure insanity to act the way her heart was at that moment, practically throwing a tantrum within her chest, physically revolting against touching the doorknob and leading her to Wonwoo. It had been less than 24 hours, but she couldn't deny that here in Mingyu's barren and somewhat haunting cabin in the middle of nowhere, she felt more on vacation than any other excursion she'd been on. It was a sense of comfort unheard of in her time. Perhaps she'd be satisfied with merely exchanging contact information with Mingyu, that way she'd always remain somewhat present in his life and he in hers, but knowing him, he'd refuse, or just outright ignore each and every one of her attempts at reaching out.

Damn it, she didn't want to go.

She could hear Mingyu's door across the way open, prompting her to hold her breath as she pressed the side of her head against the door. His socked feet padded through the house, footsteps loud and sluggish as they approached the front door.

"Hey," Wonwoo's voice spoke first as the door opened.

"Hey." Mingyu's response was terse, somehow managing to make a single syllable, one that even Wonwoo had just used, sound absolutely cold and brusque. "How's the car?"

"I actually wanted to talk to you guys about that." The response was not promising in the slightest, and (y/n) felt a drop in her stomach momentarily. But still, she persisted, waiting with bated breath for what was to come. "May I come in?"

There was a pregnant pause, and (y/n) could only imagine what was going on out there. Wonwoo's question felt odd, underlying intent laced in his words, though one (y/n) couldn't necessarily pinpoint—only identifying the lost yet hopeful lilt in his voice as he had spoken. Mingyu's silence was deafening. Not even the winds outside could salvage the tension rising in the air.

Briefly, she recalled earlier that day, standing outside and waiting for Mingyu to come to his senses again. How helpless she felt just watching him spiral down a dark rabbit hole from which she'd perhaps never bear witness to it. Failing in saving him as he had saved her.

The thought was enough to prompt (y/n) into tugging open her door, rushing out as casually as she could to attempt to salvage whatever was happening outside.

There stood both men, at first staring each other down. Mingyu's back was to her, though just from his stature, she could tell he was stiffened up, as if like a wild animal spooked by a noise nearby. Wonwoo, on the other hand, did not take that presumed predatory role of any sorts. In fact, he looked just as defenseless and startled as Mingyu, a worried gleam in his eyes that only ceased when acknowledging (y/n)'s presence.

"(y/n), right?" Wonwoo spoke again, his words briefly cracking as he called out to her. Mingyu didn't glance her way. He just remained as is, standing there, looking ahead at Wonwoo.

"Yes, that's me!" (y/n) sidled up beside Mingyu, absentmindedly ducking beneath his arm against the frame of the doorway. Clasping her hands together, she brought them up to her chin, looking at Wonwoo with that same forlorning hope still stirring within her. "How's my baby?"

Wonwoo chuckled some, but shook his head as he did so.

"It's like Mingyu said. Battery." (y/n) groaned at this, burying her face in her hands. "Batteries and cold weather don't exactly get along."

"So I've heard." She tossed a glance at Mingyu, but immediately turned back to Wonwoo. "What do we do?"

"Well, I can order you a new one. From the looks of it, your battery is a good five years old or so? It was about time it got a change."

"Five years?" Mingyu finally spoke, his voice filled with disbelief as he gaped at (y/n). "Five years, (y/n)?"

"Yes, Mingyu, five years." With a roll of her eyes, she returned to her conversation with Wonwoo, who seemed briefly taken aback by Mingyu speaking again after having gone mute just minutes before. "Go on."

"Right." Wonwoo snapped himself out of whatever daze he'd fallen into, clearing his throat as he resumed his diagnosis. "I can order a new one when I get back into town. For your make and model, we're looking at a battery maybe… $180, $190, give or take. Plus shipping here, it could range up to a good $200."

"That's fine." (y/n) waved dismissively. "What else?"

Wonwoo glanced back momentarily at Mingyu, hesitant to speak, though doing so anyway.

"Shipping here could take up to a week or two."

That was definitely news to her. A week or two. Nearly half a month. That's almost 4% of her entire year. Perhaps she was exaggerating with the scales of time she used to render this information, but still, it was quite definitely a shock, and one that she had not prepared herself for when she had stepped out of her room.

Just moments prior, thoughts of abandoning Mingyu haunted her. The threat of losing him somehow agonizing in her mind. Yet now, she was granted more time. As if a blessing from above. An answer to her worries. She was allotted another chance to further embrace the presence of this peculiarity she's found herself stumbling headfirst into.

This muted excitement bubbled within her, an emotion she could only describe as giddy now consuming her being from within. She was on the precipice of losing it, to affirm Wonwoo’s notions and celebrate the circumstances presented before her. The storm that both canceled her flight and trapped her right in front of Mingyu’s cabin, her absentminded nature in never having changed her battery since she first got this car, even her parents for scheduling this vacation out of the blue with no warning whatsoever for her. All of it has inevitably led to this moment where she can continue to infiltrate this man's livelihood and turn his whole world topsy turvy, though that thought was what finally grounded her back to reality.

She blinked at Wonwoo, pursing her lips together in anticipation before slowly turning to meet Mingyu's eyes. As expected, he'd zoned out once more, staring ahead blankly, as if not having a single thought in his head. Or perhaps his thoughts were far too cumbersome to even assort through them, leaving him in that common state of absent mindedness he so often sinks into. Either way, Mingyu was withdrawn for perhaps the umpteenth time since she first met him the day prior, all the while she was so very desperately present in the moment.

Looking up at him felt as if time had begun to slow, an infinitesimal pause as she began to rifle through the emotions that seemed to run rampant with Wonwoo’s words. Upon first impressions, it seemed ever clear how enthused she was to spend more time in this little isolated world. So different from what she's accustomed to, and at times maddeningly still and uneventful. Mingyu served as an infinitely interesting character in which she could spend a lifetime dissecting his every thought and whim and still have more to analyze. And as bland as it all seemed at first, this haven he's created for himself felt so unbearably quaint and comforting, like the warmth of a bed calling you back to its embrace on a chilly morning, begging you to abandon your responsibilities in lieu of a cozy slumber. It was undeniable how attached she had become to this place in a matter of hours, perhaps out of mere curiosity, or perhaps out of something more. A desperation for something different in a life with little to no variation from what she's grown used to.

Yet upon further inspection, it seemed her emotions, once deceptively simple and perhaps overstated, were in fact still deeply muddled with conflicting thoughts and second guessing. Beneath it all lay the cold reality of it all. That a week or two was no laughing matter. It not only impacted her own schedule, but it also greatly impeded upon Mingyu, ever the generous host. Taking a step back to view the situation from a different perspective, it honestly bewildered her how absolutely blindsided she had been to have almost immediately leapt straight into this without any further thought on the matter. As if viewing Mingyu merely as a social experiment. A lab rat for her to study to her heart's content, continuing to poke and prod at the careful tension he had hidden away until she finally pushes him beyond his limit, destroying the harmony he had worked tirelessly to preserve in his tumultuous life, merely for her own satisfaction in having dug up what should've remained buried away in the recesses of Mingyu’s life. Now with the prospect of remaining for a few days more, although initially exactly what she wanted, now felt more burdensome than anything else, reminding her of what exactly she was to Mingyu. A stranger he brought in out of the kindness of his heart.

“I suppose I have no other choice, right?” She found herself saying aloud, quickly turning back to Wonwoo to distract him from the stiffened Mingyu beside her. If Wonwoo had noticed anything, he didn't mention it, nodding along to (y/n)’s words with a small grin.

“I’ll swing by again tomorrow when I get confirmation about the purchase.” Wonwoo spared another glance to Mingyu, though the man remained as is, still seemingly processing the news related to him. With nothing else to do, (y/n) softly nudged Mingyu back into the house and away from the doorframe, bidding a retreating Wonwoo farewell before closing the door.

Silence penetrated the cabin once more. A low fire crackled away in the living room, and the incessant white noise of wind against the wooden walls surrounded them, yet the silence remained as prevalent as can be. The longer Mingyu remained frozen, the more dread seemed to seep into (y/n)’s bones. This deep, unnerving guilt that clenched at her being, rooted her in her place. She felt more unwelcomed now than she had initially believed herself to be when he first brought her here. That speech of his that once settled her nerves and rationalized her thoughts, his kind words regarding how he brought her in to his abode for the purpose of saving her life, now seemed to be nothing more than a recitation of some sort, meaningless in its existence and a mere formality with little to no intention in its presentation. She felt out of place, alien to an environment she was slowly becoming accustomed to before having that illusion forcibly ripped away from her.

Mingyu just stood there, as did she. He stood there with that blank expression, the one that was near impossible to read, and her thoughts spiraled the longer they remained this way. Memories of him sitting in his truck for God knows how long, deep in contemplation merely because of some words she said to him. And the guilt only seemed to increase by the minute.

It was strange, this very moment in time in which (y/n) was faced with these circumstances at hand. Strange in the sense that this was perhaps the first time she ever had to properly reflect upon herself and her actions.

Recounting the events which had led up to the present she resides in now, she looked back up on her initial insistence to do something on her own for the first time, and how miserably that unraveled to the point that she could've very well died in the frigid and unforgiving winter outside. Then the moment Mingyu had held out his hand to her, offering her support in her time of need. It seemed that the determination which once plagued her mind to a blinding and careless degree seemed to dissipate, once more succumbing to the treatment she had grown so accustomed to in her lifetime. Being catered to, getting everything she ever wanted, never truly working for what she gets because why should she? She'll get it at the end of the day no matter what.

Though now none of that applied. Mingyu was not some accomodation she could merely exploit and be done with once she's off and on her own once more. The fact that he had gone out of his way to help her at such a dire time, and for her only repayment thus far having been to embroil him in a myriad of psychological meltdowns against his own volition, it began to really settle in. The reality that awaited her all this time. The fact that she may be exactly that: a burden.

Mingyu had slowly shuffled over to the living room, sitting on the couch and staring into the fire, leaving (y/n) rooted in her position right alongside the entryway, mouth agape and eyes become glassier by the second as these thoughts that slowly accumulated in her head began to drown her in their breadth. The silence hasn't helped any, the sheer unacknowledgement on Mingyu’s part seemingly stabbing a gaping wound into her heart that she had never once felt before. A wholly new experience she was not prepared for. And suddenly, that determination that once filled her just the day prior came back with a vengeance, and she found herself rushing back to the guest room, tossing in whatever item of hers she could spot lying about before zipping up and slugging the duffel bag onto her shoulders.

To be completely honest, she wasn't sure what it was that had suddenly hit her. This emotion inside her wasn't light and fun like it had felt when she ventured out to drive to the ski resort. Instead, it was heavy, like a gaping pit deep in her stomach. This uncomfortable churning that twisted her guts into knots and shook her to her core. Every step felt agonizing, as if the walls around her were not that of a home or even a retreat, but like a cell closing in upon her until she was on the brink of collapse, until her lungs cried for fresh air. She needed to get out of here. She needed to forget all of this ever happened.

Stepping back into the main living area, Mingyu hadn't moved an inch. He sat there on that old couch, staring at the fireplace, so deep in contemplation that he hadn't even noticed (y/n) standing but a few feet away, bag in hand.

She took the moment to collect herself, hands digging into the straps of her luggage in a way to ground herself. Carefully, her eyes traced over Mingyu once more, taking in the enigma of a man once more before she'd most likely never see him again. The furrow of his brow when he's lost in thought, bringing tension to his face in every sense of the word from his pursed lips to his clenched jaw to the way his eyes narrow into an unintentional glare. She cemented into her memory the slope of his nose and where that birthmark was nestled just beneath the tip of it. She wished she could see his smile once more. That wolfish grin accompanied by the most jubilant laughter she ever heard. His sharp canines that always made an appearance, bringing this youthful quirk that she found undeniably charming. A kind and handsome gentleman with a history to never be unraveled. That's who Mingyu was. That's the man who lives here in the middle of nowhere. The man who saved her life and showed her just a glimpse of the reality she had isolated herself from. In such a short amount of time, this character managed to sway her in ways she had never considered, and now she had to say her farewells.

“Thank you so much for everything,” (y/n) began, her voice as steady as she could muster given how she was quite literally on the brink of utter collapse. “I can never truly pay you back for everything you've given me. I'm very appreciative of your hospitality.” Nothing seemed to stir the man. He hadn't even once shifted to acknowledge her talking, not even a glance her way. Gulping, she continued on, forcing her eyes to remain on him, to take in as much as him as she could in the moment. “I hope… life is more forgiving for you.”

With that, she quickly turned around, shuffling over to the front door dejectedly. That is until a sudden procession of heavy footsteps greeted her, growing near and louder in their sequence until they came to a sudden and abrupt halt.

A large hand slammed down on the front door before her, startling (y/n) and causing her to jump back, only to bump into the large and imposing body now settled behind her.

“Where are you going?” His voice was low, more intimidating than she had ever heard him. No matter how much teasing she threw his way, he had never once sounded this irate. Though now it seemed shed finally gotten him to crack his resolve in some manner of the word, albeit not in the way she had initially wanted from him.

“I'm sorry?” She muttered, eyes shakily trained on the front door where his hand remained, caging her into this corner between the entrance and himself.

“Where are you going?” This time, it sounded more so a demand than anything else. A domineering intonation, one she could only compare to that of a drill sergeant of sorts in how cold it seemed.

“I don't know.”

“What?”

“I don't know!” Perhaps she had taken the drill sergeant analysis too literally, voice now louder and clearer as if practicing her projection capabilities. Mingyu remained quiet for just a moment more before he continued.

“You don't know.”

“No!”

“Do you have a death wish?”

Before (y/n) could question him any further, the hand once blocking the door slid down until it landed upon the doorknob, twisting it and yanking the door open. Though just ajar, (y/n) could see a plethora of snow whirling into the cabin, eager to penetrate the warmth of the house. The sound of winds picked up, no longer muffled from their position inside. Though perhaps the most concerning aspect of it all, (y/n) could see the way Mingyu had to use force on the door to keep it open to this precise degree, no more no less, fighting against the winds outside all to prove a point to her.

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” she pressed herself against Mingyu, as far back as she could get from the snowstorm waging outside. And once Mingyu could see how rattled she had gotten at just that momentary glimpse of the outside, he slammed the door shut again, silencing the barrage of wind once more.

It was quiet between the two at first, (y/n) still reeling from the terror outside, thoughts circulating on how she could've not only been unaware of the conditions outside, but also of how she would've been able to even set foot outside had she tried. Mingyu merely backed away, marching back into the center living area of the cabin, though instead of taking a seat at that couch again, he instead paced back and forth, absolutely fuming at his guest and her gall.

The standoff didn't last long, with (y/n) quickly turning to face Mingyu, completely unaware of the state he was in as she quickly and clumsily broke the silence.

“Is Wonwoo okay? Can we call him?”

If there were ever any wronger words to speak, (y/n) perhaps would find them with blissful ease, as she managed to finally find Mingyu’s final shred of patience.

“Wonwoo?” He asked incredulously, scoffing out his words in disbelief. He had stopped pacing, head quirked and staring at (y/n) who slowly but surely began to piece together Mingyu’s utter irritation. “Wonwoo should be the least of your concerns right now.” He raised an arm, pointing at the door behind her. “Did you not see that? Do you not realize what you were about to walk into? Are you so dense that you can't even realize that the person you should be most worried about is yourself?”

His eyes were alight with wrath, features hardening as he glowered before (y/n). Gone was the gentle giant she had quickly come to associate with Mingyu, instead replaced by someone entirely different. Perhaps this was always Mingyu. Someone so utterly human to have such flaws as this. Such emotional turmoil to be able to feel and present his anger in such a way. Someone who carries a facade of uniformity, but just as everyone else, conceals the depth of his emotions brewing beneath like a volcano ready to erupt.

Yet even at this moment, (y/n) found Mingyu so terribly intriguing. So beautifully human in all of his creation, without any pretense or subterfuge which was so commonly found in the circles she associates herself with. So raw in this performative sense, that even as he berated her with this dangerous fury broiling within him, she found him to be so terribly and utterly beautiful.

Mingyu scoffed at (y/n)’s silence, retracting his hand to rub at his temple in disbelief.

“It seems it's just in your nature to go into whatever endeavor you find yourself in without any regard or second thought. Even now, you're standing here in your own little world, not realizing the gravity of the situation.” He stepped closer, now standing right in front of (y/n), head in hands as he attempted to ease the oncoming headache. “How have you managed to survive all these years when you haven't a single shred of precaution in your body?”

Again, she remained quiet, blinking up at Mingyu, starstruck by it all, from the sudden shift in mannerism on Mingyu's part to the whirlwind of emotions circulating through her system, that she couldn't quite wrap her head around his words. Theoretically, she understood where he was coming from, understood the innate kindness that resided deep beneath his rough exterior, having seen it through his actions and words to the point that it had now been an undeniable fact of his character. Though delving anymore beyond that, she found herself merely drawing a complete blank, so absolutely entrenched in her own thoughts and her own worries that she struggled in understanding why Mingyu would be so concerned about the likes of her. To the point that he'd break his character like this.

He dropped his arms to his side, face fully revealed to her where she could spectate the harshness of his countenance now riddled with all sorts of wrinkled lines from his tension and irritated redness from his stewing anger.

“You drive out here in the middle of our worst season in a car wholly unsuited for this weather or the distance you're trekking.” His voice had lowered significantly, no longer carrying that loud timbre he had initially possessed, though still laced with exasperation, telling (y/n) to not provoke him any further. “You bring thin clothes that can't withstand air conditioning, let alone a blizzard of this caliber.” Shyly, she tugged at the sleeves of the sweater she was wearing, ironically being that of the thick wool piece Mingyu himself had to give to her lest she gets frostbite from merely walking outside for just a few minutes. “And you have tried to sleep in your car not once, but twice in the middle of a snowstorm.”

She shrunk with every word he uttered, though especially with his final point. The realization of him having known the objective of her abrupt departure without her even having to clarify unnerved her, and (y/n) had begun to further recline into herself, wanting nothing more than to disappear. She knew it was a bad idea, given the lecture he gave her just the day before, but it was all she could consider what with her insecure and guilt ridden mind still clouding her rationality.

The guilt seemed to only grow the longer she remained there, thoughts further spiraling into the void. Mingyu had stalked off, presumably to cool off, though he didn't trail too far. He remained in view of (y/n), still residing in the same vicinity, just as far as he could possibly be from her whilst still remaining in her line of sight. Somehow, even this added to the flames engulfing her from within.

It had become too much for her to handle. These agonizing thoughts that only served to further mangle her, twisting her into this unrecognizable form. A version of herself she'd never had the opportunity of meeting. Someone so absolutely broken inside, devoid of any sort of life. A reflection of herself and what resided beyond the facade she carries around her, clutching onto this false reality she's blindsided herself with to hide away the fragility that lurked beneath. This gaping emptiness became all too apparent to her, and thoughts of herself and her character haunted her consciousness.

Who is she? What's her purpose? What is she any good for?

Why did it take her being forcibly stranded in a cabin in the woods with an emotionally unavailable lumberjack of a man to come to the realization that she does not feel like a person? Perhaps she had never felt like a person. Merely playing the role she was given upon birth, slotting herself into society like everyone else, assuming her position as a socialite with ease, though at the cost of her humanity.

She hadn't felt the first tear cascading down her face, nor the second, nor the third. She hadn't felt the onslaught of moisture streaked across her cheeks, nor the tears collecting at her chin. She hadn't felt the way her body quaked with emotion, trembling as if out there in the storm with nothing clinging to her person. She hadn't even felt how she choked through the first sob, shattering the stillness of the atmosphere with a defeated and broken cry which finally jostled Mingyu from his tirade.

What she had felt was a hand upon her elbow, in the softest and most gentle manner she'd ever been handled before. She looked up through her teary gaze, choking on a momentarily surprised gasp, having not heard Mingyu approaching, though upon seeing the disheartened expression across his face, she dropped her defenses. Another sob spilled from her lips, and then another, until she had begun fully crying, eyes shut and tears freely falling without any regard to her surroundings.

Mingyu seemed at a loss, keeping his hands on her arms, thumbs rubbing her through the thick wool material she was encased in. If he wanted to do anything more, he showed no indications of doing so. Until she finally spoke her first set of words since the altercation had begun.

“I want to go home.”

Somehow those words alone were able to shatter whatever distance Mingyu had attempted to put between them, and he slowly drew her into his chest in as soft a hug as he could muster. His hands rubbed along her back, standing there and holding up her defeated form as best he could, letting her cry her heart out into his sweater.

His touch was careful and soft, yet she could feel the clumsiness slipping through his actions here and there. The way his hands hesitated at moments in their path, the stiffness of his arms encircling her, the stutter of his breathing where her ear rested. Yet all of these imperfections felt as comforting to her as could be. The frigidity and unfamiliarity of his intentions drew her away from the overwhelming emotions wreaking havoc to her mind, grounding her back in a place away from it all.

A safe and warm place which smelled like pine needles and mint, with the scratchy material of a worn sweater scraping against her cheek and a deep, warm chest breathing steadily against her ear.

“I'm sorry,” Mingyu softly uttered once (y/n)’s tears had quelled. “I'm sorry for being an asshole. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that.”

(y/n) felt one last tear slip away before she slowly shut her eyes and hugged Mingyu back, savoring the comfort of a true hug she'd perhaps never feel again in her lifetime. A genuine, caring, thoughtful embrace unlike any she's faced before. She didn't know for how long she went about savoring said hug, though eventually Mingyu began ushering her down the hall and to the bathroom, much the same as when he first picked her up. As he had done previously, he fetched her clothes from her bag forgotten by the entryway and a fresh set of towels before departing for the kitchen. It was a strange cycle they'd found themselves seemingly falling into, though not unwelcomed in any way.

She didn't want to linger as long as she had before, far too wary of her straying thoughts and what could result if she were to linger upon her prior revelations once more. And so after a quick and brisk shower, she scuffled back to the kitchen where Mingyu slaved over the stove again, back facing her and attention completely devoted to his task at hand.

Gently, she raised her fist to the doorway, knocking against the wood softly and drawing his gaze over to her momentarily.

“Looks like you don't need a bell after all,” he commented, offering a small grin her way before returning to his dish. “I'm nearly done with dinner. I wanted you to eat right away, so I didn't want to make another soup. They usually have to brew for a bit.”

“I think I'd like anything you cook for me.” This elicited a pleased hum from Mingyu, and another minute quirk of his lips. The sight settled (y/n)’s nerves, and she found herself comfortably sinking into the chair she's claimed as her own at this point.

Dinner was for the most part silent between the two. There was the occasional commentary on either of their parts, (y/n) thanking and complimenting Mingyu and his cooking, Mingyu probing her for dinner suggestions and preferences, the occasional joke slipped in here and there. Thankfully, there were no eggshells which needed to be traipsed over with caution. As if the events of the previous hour hadn't even occurred. And once more, (y/n) found herself intrigued by and rather thankful for Mingyu's aloofness. Without fail, he returned to how he had been when they had first met, with his quiet, somber demeanor, impish grin whenever he pokes fun at her, reserved and calculative. There was an edge of withdrawal in the way he conducted himself, and (y/n) could tell that there had been a defense put up whilst she showered, though it didn't seem wholly false. Overall, it felt as if Mingyu allowed her to see a part of himself he had been wary of revealing to just anyone.

The lighthearted dinner had come to an end, and they had once more cleaned up the kitchen and headed to their rooms. Mingyu was hesitant as he stood before his door, neither wanting to initiate the farewells nor respond to hers. Instead, he stood there, head down turned and facing the wooden floorboards while his hand clenched upon the doorknob leading to his room.

“I wanted to apologize again,” He spoke softly, more so a rumble of voice than anything else, yet it easily carried through the stillness of the cabin. “I'm not… a person who spends time with others often. I sometimes forget how to act. And I'm really sorry for my outburst earlier.”

“It's okay,” (y/n) responded quietly. “I also don't really know how to act around others.” She didn't want to elaborate right now. She didn't want to revisit how fake and performative her life is. She didn't want to explain how every single person she's been around up to this point has had an agenda and ulterior motives whenever they communicate with her. Though seeing Mingyu��s defeated form, shoulders slouched over and head refusing to lift from where he stood, she found herself skipping over it all and rushing to the end. “But I think I'm figuring it out the more I'm with you.”

Mingyu's head had finally risen from where he had been staring at the floor, brown eyes now meeting (y/n)’s gaze. She felt her breath stutter seeing the doe eyed look he gave her. This momentary lapse in his facade where she could see so clearly how vulnerable he truly was. The sheer emotion that rippled through his dark irises, showing her this image of a broken and startled boy, hiding away from the world like his life depended on it. It was startling how transparent he had become in that one second, so indisputably innocent and helpless he was, though in the next moment, his gaze had hardened once more, lips tightening into a straight line as he quickly averted his attention back to his door.

“I'm glad you're holding on. I understand your situation is rather stressful, so I wouldn't want to add on to that.” Quickly, he slipped into his room, slowly closing the door as he gave her one last glance. “Goodnight.”

With that, Mingyu had disappeared, leaving her standing there in the middle of the hall, awestruck at the encounter and still attempting to wrap her head around what she had seen. Or at least what she thinks she saw. It was so quick, yet she's sure she couldn't have been mistaken. There was still a part of her that yearned for more, persisted in pushing and learning and figuring out every aspect of Mingyu, though now a larger part of her seemed to be taking control. A part of her that seemed almost unrecognizable, yet not unwelcomed. A part of her which sought for change of any sort, thought especially within herself.

Her final thoughts as she drifted to sleep that night was the fond realization that she'd perhaps grow to like this new self.

— end of snowbound: chapter one

#k-labels #caratlibrary #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu fanfiction #seventeen fanfiction #kim mingyu fanfiction #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu fanfic #seventeen fanfic #kim mingyu fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic

55 notes · View notes

zzoguri · 2 days

Text

safe haven (how much longer do we have?) ➵ kim taerae

kim taerae x reader, slight sung hanbin x reader

you can only hope for more tomorrows with taerae.

genre/warnings ➵ strangers to lovers, heavy angst with a happy ending, touch of fluff, afab reader (no gendered terms), lowercase intended, apocalypse au, hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), depictions of grief, descriptions of gore/blood, use of guns, allusions and discussions of suicide, minor character deaths, hanbin is your ex, zhanghao and matthew appearance :’), elements of the last of us (don’t support neil druckmann!), mostly written in past tense (because u’re remembering!)

word count ➵ 6.2k words

inspired by ➵ “anaheim” by niki, “are you happy?” by wavesmp3, “love wins all” by iu, episode three of hbo’s the last of us, and “you’re gonna carry that weight” quote from cowboy bebop

a/n ➵ thought i'd make my official debut to zeroseblr with this lil piece that i absolutely love!! i hope you guys look forward to more zb1 fics from me :DD here's the original one if you're interested! if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

time was the one thing that occupied everyone’s minds. it held value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and people revolved their lives around it.

questions flew around with every tick and tock—what day is it today? when’s your next doctor’s appointment? how long has it been since you’ve last seen your friends from high school? until when does this meeting last?

as the hands of the clock continue to rotate, the calendar pages would flip along. birthdays were celebrated with every revolution as candles on cakes were lit up, awaiting the puff of celebrants as they wished for their desires. holidays were ones to look forward to; people dressed up to celebrate periods of the year that mattered to them while others slept in until noon. and days were spent counting down until graduations, where caps with tassels would fly to the expanse of blue and orange as cheers and sobs sound throughout.

but now, no one keeps track of time. clocks stopped moving and calendars weren’t produced annually. once the surge of the infected took over, grabbing on humans, taking them away from the lives they’ve lived, everyone ran like they were running out of time. with every second that passes, people are ridden with possibilities of how they might bid farewell to life itself—would it be through the hands of the infected or their own?

now, only one question echoes within their minds: how long do we have?

yet, the clock continues—tick, tock, tick, tock. it keeps going, and going, and going, like how everyone expects it. while everyone seemed to let time go, you still kept track of it all: birthdays, holidays, a graduation you never had.

the outbreak hit two years ago on the day of hanbin’s graduation. cheers turned into screams. white togas and diplomas were splattered with red. the lively became lifeless.

you remember hanbin’s hand in yours, fingers gripping you as if you were his life, as you charged out of the gymnasium, legs keeping up with the speed of his. you darted off to nowhere as images of the infected tearing people apart took up every block, all the way from skin to bone.

and while it was a rush of tragedies, hanbin was the only hope you had.

“keep your eyes on me,” he glanced at you, eyes off the path as he met your gaze. “don’t look at them. only look at me.”

it was impossible to ignore the wails that filled your ears, but you would repeat his words—his soft-spoken voice—to drown them out.

by nightfall, you and hanbin found yourselves in a motel room, skin cleaned from blood splatters and dressed in clothes that engulfed your figures, and in each other’s arms on a twin-sized bed. the duvet that wrapped around you two is thin, not at all keeping you warm for the night, but the warmth of hanbin was enough to provide you a sense of security—stability amidst the ever-changing world.

he whispered into the crown of your head, words meant to dispel your fears, all while you sobbed into his shirt. there was nothing that he could do but stay strong for you.

and for a few days, that room acted as your safe haven. the time spent within those four walls is the life you imagined your future with hanbin. it would’ve been in a two-story house with a garden where a singular orange tree stands, lounging on the couch as you played movies to fall asleep to, but all you had was an old room with a carpeted floor with unrecognizable stains and a bathroom unable to fit two.

yet, you would choose this over anything. even if it meant eating instant noodles for every meal or sleeping on a mattress that ruins your backs, you would choose this if it meant hanbin would be with you.

still, time continues to move. hanbin knew that you both couldn’t stay in that room or else the infected may reach you. so when you both went to bed on that last night, you outlined his features from the space between his eyebrows all the way to his lips, and you spent that time memorizing his warmth to carry with you for the rest of your life. you could only hope that he stays with you until the end.

after a month passed, you and hanbin met zhanghao, an injured boy who only wanted to live. at first, hanbin was hesitant to take the stranger in, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to live with the idea of abandoning someone in need. in a world where the infected have taken over, it only seemed right to help out others, save them from a fate they’re not ready to meet.

what started off as a pair turned into a trio. you’ve learned more about what it takes to survive in this life. long gone is the need for money to buy necessities; you need to scavenge if you want to live in an infected-ridden world. thanks to zhanghao, you and hanbin got to learn about how to find supplies in every building that you pass on the journey.

but it’s not enough to know where to find food and bullets. hanbin decided that it was only right to teach you how to use a gun. with every morning that came, you two spent hours learning how to hold, reload, and fire.

“don’t worry,” he told you as his chin hovered over your shoulder. you both stared at the tin can situated on a stack of boxes only a few meters away. “you won’t have to worry about fighting alone. i’ll be here with you.” as you exhaled, your eyes zeroed in on the target. “now, shoot.”

six months have passed, and you were happy that you were still a trio. zhanghao became your best friend over that time. his laughs were enough to shine glimmers of hope onto you. you were glad that you decided to help him off the ground and tend his bullet wound that day.

until you found yourselves retreating from the horde of infected.

time moves at a constant speed but it can become swift if it decides to. when you and zhanghao reached the doors leading to safety, you remember seeing hanbin fighting off those who were once like you, bullets firing at their heads. you remember your screams, telling him to run to you—go to where it’s safe—so that you can keep having tomorrows with him.

yet, hanbin glanced at zhanghao, nodding at him before his eyes met yours. you watched how his mouth moved, a soundless three-word phrase leaving him before the doors shut before you. you would’ve pried them open but zhanghao kept his arms around you, holding you back. from letting the infected reach you. from letting hanbin come back to you.

the wails that left you are enough to attract the infected. if only the infected were to burst through the doors, grab onto you and bring you to hanbin, then maybe you would stop crying. yet, zhanghao dragged you away. you never saw him as your best friend after that.

a month passed, and you still refused to talk to him. the boy tried to strike up a conversation with you, trying to earn your laugh like he used to, but he was only met with a cold shoulder. with every brick he put, you smashed your sledgehammer against it, dispelling any hope he had in rekindling his friendship with you.

the two of you learned to live in silence, fighting for survival while dealing with the loss of the one who would always bring you both to safety.

until you came across another boy who pointed his gun toward you. his defensive demeanor reminded you of hanbin, and you wondered if this was his doing—his reincarnation. but before he could pull the trigger, zhanghao saved you from meeting your fate.

somehow, the duo had turned into a trio once more. you still refused to talk to zhanghao, but would eavesdrop on the conversations he shared with the stranger. you learned that the new addition is named taerae.

but even the stranger wasn’t enough to fill the void that hanbin left. with every nightfall, when the soft snores of the two boys filled your ears, tears streamed down your face as sobs threatened to spill out of your mouth. the palm of your hand wasn’t enough to muffle your weeps. behind your eyelids, hanbin’s last words to you play on repeat. the ones he failed to say. the ones you’ll never hear again.

maybe if you didn’t leave that motel room then he would’ve still been with you, arms finding their place around your waist as he trails kisses all over you. if the outbreak didn’t happen, then maybe you would be living in that two-story house with him. maybe you would wake up to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice by the bedside table and the warmth of his lips on your forehead. and maybe you could finally tell him yes before he slips the silver band on your finger—you could’ve grown with him until your hair turns grey.

the weight you carry never got lighter with time. the void continued to consume you whole with the goal of ripping you apart. as another month passed, another life was lost—not to the infected but to the raiders.

“hao, you have to stay with me.” those were the first words you told him since hanbin’s death. crimson continued to spill out of his abdomen through the gaps between your fingertips in the same way tears flow out. “taerae! find gauze, betadine, anything!” you never glanced at the stranger, keeping your gaze on your best friend whose eyes continued to droop.

still, zhanghao caressed your face, thumb wiping teardrops. as he slowly entered territories that you both knew he would never escape, he grinned at you one last time. “i missed hearing you. i’m glad you’ll be the last thing i hear.”

but you tried to tell him that you couldn’t be the last voice he heard. it should’ve been with someone he can imagine his future with, maybe in a two-story house or a cramped flat in an apartment complex. he deserves more tomorrows in the same way hanbin did.

but time continues to move. it took him away from you in a matter of minutes, slithering away without a second thought and no regard for the value of life, and all you were left with was his temple—still. lifeless. as you sobbed into his shirt, still holding the wound, the warmth of taerae’s hand stayed on your back, moving along with your wails.

now, you carry the loss of two. it never got easier with time.

taerae still sticks with you. it only seemed right. stay strong in numbers as you wander off to nowhere, grasping at the loose ends of survival.

two weeks have passed. you and taerae got used to the new dynamic; while he went hunting and you were tasked with scavenging, you both played your roles in combat, ready for any raid or horde. when night came, you both took shifts, keeping watch while the other got some shut-eye.

until that one evening.

you recall the sounds of wood crackling from the fire. it stood strong against the breeze—burning, shining—surrounded by greens that latch on browns. hues of amber cascaded over your skin, painting you with warmth—it’ll never compare to the one you craved. your eyes drifted to taerae who sat across from you, his eyes trained on the fire as he rubbed his palms together. perhaps he craved the same type of warmth you longed for.

“we used to be three.” his eyes snapped towards yours. “before you came, we used to be three—zhanghao, me, and—” it rose in you like bile, wanting to escape but never leaving. “we were three then.”

you glanced at the fire that continued to burn. “we met zhanghao a month after the outbreak, spent six months together until—” the claws of the void struck against your throat, holding you back from sharing with the stranger what your life was before he came. while you never found the right words to say, taerae never pushed, letting you say what you wanted to share while filling in the blanks on his own.

“i resented zhanghao after what happened.” you moved your gaze to taerae whose eyes never left you. “refused to talk to him. refused to forgive.” and you remember how you hesitated, taking a deep breath in before sputtering out the next sentence. “refused to accept.”

nine months ago, the outbreak didn’t happen. nine months ago, you were attending hanbin’s graduation. nine months ago, you two were imagining your tomorrows—together, for eternity.

and those nine months fractured all hopes and dreams; the glass is now littered with cracks, ready to burst into shards.

“but i think about the last time we saw zhanghao,” the image of him sitting in front of you all frail, treading the line between life and death, flashed in front of you; it’s quick but strong to remind you of what’s lost. “and i wish i could’ve learned how to forgive during those two months.”

but it was an impossible request. how could you ever forgive a boy you’ve known for only six months for taking your future away? how could you forgive a world that took him away? how could you forgive and live?

and still, you did.

you left it at that. they were enough. so when you told taerae that you’ll take over tonight’s shift, he never asked to hear more. instead, he laid near the campfire as you keep an eye out.

and once enough hours have passed, you allowed yourself to sob like other nights. the breeze that passed through branches reminded you of zhanghao; rustling leaves imitated the giggles of the boy you’ve only known during the apocalypse.

the wind that grazed against your skin should’ve been a nuisance, but the warmth of the fire wrapped you up like the duvet in that motel room. and you don’t complain—it’s the only part of hanbin you have left.

the heat was enough to last you the night, but the chill of reality sent you back to the void.

that night, taerae listened to your sobs. not one of you got enough rest for the journey.

another two weeks went by. you two got into a better groove of the routine; instead of hunting and scavenging in silence, you and taerae found yourselves talking more about your lives before the outbreak. you learned that he’s only a year younger than hanbin, and he shared that he had plans to pursue music.

“if the world finds a cure to this mess, you have to promise me that you’ll get me front-row tickets to your first show.” it was a joke. in what world could there be a cure for the infected? but the wishful thinking of what could be—what could’ve been—is all you had left.

still, taerae promised you that.

that night, you two stayed in the living room of an abandoned house. instead of lighting the fireplace, candles were placed on the coffee table. they shined in the middle of you two, you who stayed on the couch and taerae who sat on the mattress lying on the floor.

“where were you?” his eyes met yours. “on the day of the outbreak, i mean.”

he leaned back, hands resting on the mattress before he looked once more at the wax that continued to melt. “i was there for my upperclassmen’s graduation.” it hit you like a sudden downpour on a sunny day. “i knew the people in the music program and we were going to celebrate after. until the infected came.”

and when you said the name of the university, his gaze met yours as his shoulders stiffened. “m—my hanbin.” it’s the first time you spoke of his name, and the sight of taerae’s eyes widening over it was enough to speak for himself.

“i—i didn’t know,” he whispered, but his words were loud enough to shatter glass. “i only spoke to him a few times. he spoke of you with so much love.”

your heart skipped beats; it should’ve been enough to send you off into the same territories where hanbin and zhanghao now stay. your mouth turned dry as taerae’s voice morphed into radio silence.

before you knew it, the two of you left the information to hang in the air as you tried to drift into slumber. the clock continues to tick. minutes turned into hours; time moves like it usually does once more.

yet, you were stuck in the same gymnasium, fixing hanbin’s toga as you scolded him about how wrinkled it’s become—hey! you’ll go up on stage soon. we can’t take pictures of you like this. despite your words, he smiled at you before grazing his lips on your temple—his silent way of telling you the three-word phrase.

in a split second, you were off the couch. you barged out of the house, clutching your chest as the knot constricted your throat, and your feet dragged you off to nowhere. every sound has turned into a buzz—only the voice of hanbin being the one clear thing amidst the hysteria.

before you knew it, you stood before a horizon of green. it takes only one step into the woods, alone with no protection, for you to meet your demise. you would’ve charged into it in the same way you would’ve charged out to save hanbin that day.

all it takes is one step, and—

“what are you doing?!” a pair of hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you around until you were face-to-face with the last form of life that you know of. his breaths were short as his fingers dug into your arms. “you can’t just rush out in the middle of the night! i woke up worried sick.” his eyebrows knitted in frustration. confusion. distress.

the voice was caught in your throat. how does one begin to unpack the baggage they’ve learned to carry? when the items they bring are revolting, rotten, repugnant, how does someone not feel shame about showing all the tattered-up objects?

how do you learn to open up to someone you’ve only known for three months?

your hands trembled; you’ve carried the weight of it all for too long.

in that split second, your nose met the juncture between his chin and shoulder. the material of his shirt against your cheek allowed you to bathe in what you miss—the hand of zhanghao that once caressed your face. the lips of hanbin that lingered with every kiss. all the moments that you hoped time would freeze just for you lives in the boy you stick with for survival.

all it took were taerae’s hands to rest on the lower side of your back for the tears to begin their stream. the sobs spill out. for once, they weren’t muffled like those other nights. they sounded throughout the space that surrounded you two. you allowed yourself to drop the baggage only for a few minutes.

taerae took you back to the house that night, allowing you to sob about all that you’ve kept under the wraps. when sunrise came, you found your legs mixed with his as his arms remained wrapped around you, and your ear pressed against his chest. the sound of his breathing is the one reminder of what a safe haven is.

half a year went by. taerae still stays by your side. the baggage got lighter.

it should’ve been the same routine; taerae goes off to hunt while you scavenge, and you’ll take turns on the night shifts. but that night shifted something between you two—stolen glances, quiet giggles, linked fingers.

two months have gone by. the moon shined through the trees, their shadows cascading on an abandoned cabin that you and taerae decided to stay in for that night.

it should’ve been the same set-up as other nights spent in abandoned houses; you’ll sleep on the couch while he sleeps on a dragged-out mattress. instead, he sat with you, your back resting on his chest along with his hand staying on your arm.

a lit candle rested on the table; its amber tones painted the taerae’s skin—close to the fruit tree that stands in your lost future.

“what would you do if there is a cure to this?” you watched how his fingers danced across your skin, calloused from plucking guitar strings or wielding a gun.

taerae’s chest rumbled against your back as he hummed. “what would you do?”

a giggle left as you looked at the boy. “i was the one who asked you first!”

he shot you a grin as his hand slipped into yours. the candle continued to burn; it did a poor job of giving you light and warmth that night. but he did it all—one smile. one exhale. one indication to show that he lives.

“travel, maybe? or i’ll go back to writing music.” you nodded at his plans before looking back at the light source. “what about you?”

“i don’t know.”

there was no point in going back to university after such a catastrophe. if anything, the year spent surrounded by the infected, fighting for survival, has shown you that there’s more to life than the perpetual cycle of working a nine-to-five.

so…

“i would settle down if i could.” the wax continued to melt. “i think i’ve seen enough of the world. for once, i just want to stay home, indulge in my hobbies, live the life that i want.”

his breath grazed the top of your head. “with someone?” and suddenly, you became aware of it all—the heat that emitted from his palm, the movement of his chest against your back, the gravity of his question.

the words get caught in your throat. your heartbeat rang in your ears. for the first time since hanbin’s death, you considered it.

“with someone.”

before you knew it, his hand caressed your cheek. you were forced to meet his eyes which glistened with devotion. he leaned forward, his breath grazing your skin while you held in yours. you didn’t miss how his gaze flickered to your lips before he met your eyes once more.

then, he held back. it’s a choice, one only you can make. but when your eyes shut, it’s a quiet plea—a silent yes.

his lips met yours.

the warmth that blossomed in your chest wasn’t like the one in that motel room. not like the embrace of the one you’ve lost. it was one of all seasons—changing with the weather, bringing comfort throughout the everchanging times.

it’s a perpetual cycle of fighting for survival. you’ll endure through it all.

a month passed by, and you came across another boy on the journey. he’s named matthew, and he told you of a safe haven located in the town that you and taerae grew up in.

for a moment, it was an internal debate—should you go back to where the downfall started? can you go to where the memory of hanbin still lives?

but one glance at taerae was enough to settle it. the three of you embarked on your journey.

you remember that day. it was a walk with the goal of finding a car to make the journey back an easy one. the heat of the sun prickled against your skin, but you still kept your arms crossed.

“are you two together?” matthew asked, causing you to whip your head towards him. your eyes met taerae’s for a split second—confusion, dejection—before they landed back at the stranger who kept his eyes on the path you took.

“no, we aren’t.”

for the rest of the journey, it was quiet.

sundown came, and you found yourselves in a convenience store for that night’s shelter. taerae was in charge of taking the night shift, allowing you and matthew to rest up. when the stranger went off to sleep on the makeshift bed, you were left alone with taerae.

you watched how he cleaned his gun with a rag stained with dark splotches. the moon gleamed through the window—it cannot compare to how taerae shines.

you needed to get some sleep, is what you tell yourself. with one spin, you were about to make your way to where you’d sleep for that night.

“are we really not?” you halted in your tracks. you couldn’t look at him. “did it mean nothing?”

not a single answer left your mouth. your eyes remained straightforward, refusing to meet his gaze.

the warmth vanished with a lack of an answer. instead, it was replaced once more with the cold—the void—that attempted to consume you whole.

and when a scornful chuckle left taerae, you knew that you’d burnt the bridge. you walked away, leaving him to do his job, bidding farewell to the closest form of a safe haven.

two weeks went by and another goodbye had to be done. matthew stood in front of you two, a grin on his lips while tears streamed down his face. his arm was out, revealing a bite mark. the veins near the wound had already turned black. he would’ve turned in a few hours.

“go out.” those were taerae’s first words to you since that night in the convenience store.

you remember the last thing you told matthew before you left the room—you’ll get to your safe haven. the sobs that spilled out of him are ones you’ll never forget. and when you shut the door behind you, it took 20 seconds until you heard a gunshot.

the weight got heavier once more.

another two weeks went by, and you and taerae found yourselves standing in front of the remains of a safe haven. the fences were torn down. streaks of dark red littered over pavements. not a single sight of a soul lived.

still, you two trudged your way through the town, all the way until you reached taerae’s house. like others, his was abandoned. the cream walls were littered with red strokes and vines. when you both entered, you didn’t miss how taerae’s eyes lingered on a photo hung on the wall—a picture of him, his sister, and his parents.

you gave him all the time he needed to explore, to sit with the mess, while you stayed in the living room. as you sat on the couch that had gathered dust, you caught sight of a bowl of plastic produce that rested on the coffee table. it held a variety of fruits whose paint had chipped: watermelon, chestnut, and fig.

but amidst the crowd of old, torn-down, plastic fruits, a strawberry and an orange leaned against each other as grime collected on them. once your hands reached out to the fruits, you pulled them apart—a mess of red and orange stained the two.

he came back to you in 30 minutes, eyes glistening with tears. yet, he only gave you a nod, and you two went to another house.

you then stood in front of your old house with taerae by your side. weeds grew in the front yard, and the wooden exterior has turned a few shades darker. silence settled between you two.

to be back in a place you grew up in, where all your memories live, is a process—a grieving one. being face-to-face with the damage brought by the infected can only remind you of what you had and could’ve had.

and once you made your way to your childhood room, you were reminded of all your hopes and dreams before the outbreak. dust rested on top of books. the laptop on your desk had no charge. potted plants have withered.

when you approached the picture frames found on your table, your hand darted out to a photograph of you and hanbin. there was no occasion when that picture was taken—the fact that you two were together was enough for it to be remembered. memorialized.

as you made your way back down the stairs, you saw taerae crouched in front of the console table with eyes trained on photographs. “was this your high school graduation?” you approached him and saw the picture he was referring to, you who stood beside hanbin with a big grin as his lips were on your temple.

“yeah,” you said as you crouched beside taerae. “we knew each other back when i was a freshman.” your fingers trailed on the wooden frame, gathering the dust before flicking it away. despite your efforts, it was still covered in grime, but you didn’t mind.

“and you stayed together since?” all you did was hum. “did you find anything up there?”

for the first time since you entered your old house, you looked at taerae and he met your gaze. your eyes trailed his features. the eyes that speak of a thousand words. the lips that once kissed yours.

and it hit you like the gunshot that filled your ears, the breeze that rustled the leaves that one night, the doors that shut close. it was 20 months since the outbreak happened, 13 months since you lost hanbin, and 11 months since zhanghao told you his last words—but it was also 13 months spent with taerae, choosing to survive with him.

“yeah.”

you found a lot of things within those four walls. there were books you once read growing up, stuffed toys you slept with, and the one picture of you and hanbin; they’re the remaining pieces you have left of a life that was good.

you would’ve kept it all, rebuilt the life that was ripped away by the hands of the infected—

“but nothing to hold on to.”

they’re memories, ones you’ll carry with you, but ones worth moving on from.

“oh,” he said as his eyes still held your gaze. “okay.”

and with one exhale, you said, “let’s rebuild it, just a place for us two.”

it was a whirlwind of emotions in taerae’s eyes, ones you can’t identify. for a moment, you thought he’d say no. maybe he decided that 13 months was enough. one more day with you would be too much, and—

“okay.” when his hand reached out for yours, linking fingers with you like all other times, you gave him a small smile.

when you and taerae stood up, you made your way out of the house, off to find a place just for you two—a safe haven to last you many tomorrows with him.

a month passed. the safe haven was rebuilt; the fences stood strong with electrical wires and barbed wires, and the town was cleaned of all remnants of grime and blood. the two of you took up different tasks ranging from cleaning, cooking, building, and maintaining the haven.

but while you were okay with a knife, accidents did happen. “fuck!”

“what happened?” you remember how taerae came rushing in, only to see you pressing on the skin around the cut on your finger.

before you knew it, you were sitting down with him as he wrapped gauze around the wound. “taerae, it’s just a cut. i’ll be fine.”

“still, i don’t want you getting hurt.” you watched how his eyes were focused on treating your finger. “i’ll be in charge of cooking now.”

you shook your head. “no, i like to cook. i want to cook for us.” his gaze then met yours, his filled with worry while yours filled with determination. they flickered back to your finger, and his hands busied themselves with covering it up.

once he was done, his hand continued to hold yours. you remember the heat of his thumb as it drew patterns on your hand. he’s etched himself onto you.

his eyes met yours once more, and he said, “okay, just let me help out.” all you gave him was a nod.

another month went by, and you woke up to the sound of gunshots. you remember how hazy your vision was that night, fresh from sleep but panic coursing through your veins. and when you looked beside you to only see an empty spot, you didn’t think twice about rushing out of bed.

when you exited the house, you saw taerae holding his gun, firing at the people who attempted to tear down the haven’s fences. “taerae!” when he looked back at you, you caught sight of the crimson that poured out of his abdomen.

another gunshot was fired, grazing taerae’s leg, and he fell to his knees. you ran to him, reaching out to rest your hand on the wound as you began to sob. “fuck! you have to stay with me.” with his arm resting around your shoulders, you dragged him back to the house.

you set him on the table and moved his hand to hold where he was shot. “hold it.” you rushed to where the medical supplies were stored and gathered whatever you could hold. when you got back, you saw how blood continued to spill out.

you got to work, focused on trying to patch him up. making sure he stays. “you can’t go. i won’t let it happen.” and while your hands busied themselves with treating the injury, you remember how taerae’s hand caressed your cheek, thumb wiping away the spilled tears.

“in the basement, there’s a piece of paper that has all the codes. if you ever—”

“no, you’ll be okay.”

still, he continued to talk. “if you ever forget the codes, you can always look at the paper. don’t forget that you need to always check the water system every two days, and—”

“taerae!” you croaked out his name in between sobs. “you’ll be okay. you have to, okay?” the more he went on about what to keep in mind, the baggage got heavier. “i can’t do this without you. i won’t allow it.”

because 15 months ago, you would’ve bid farewell to the mayhem. 13 months ago, you hoped for time to drag you away. 12 months ago, you would’ve walked into the forest. but it’s been 22 months, and you were still walking on this earth, choosing to live amidst the chaos—so long as taerae was with you.

and when you leaned your forehead on his, eyes closed, you felt his breath graze against your lips. “i need you.”

all it took were three words from you. “okay.”

it’s been two months since that happened. the safe haven was rebuilt once more. you and taerae fortified the defense system, hoping they’ll be enough to keep any infected and raiders out. all that matters is that you two were protected—safe—from the chaos.

now, you sit on a couch as you flip through the pages of a book you didn’t have time to read before the outbreak. when all responsibilities vanished, you were able to find enough time to do things you couldn’t do then.

you were ready to get yourself sucked into the world of the novel, but taerae came into the living room with his hands behind his back and a small smile on his lips. “do you remember what you made me promise you before?”

you frown at him, confused, until he shows you an acoustic guitar. “oh my god, you found one?” you put the book on the coffee table.

he takes a seat beside you, body facing towards you as he rests the instrument on his lap. “here, front-row tickets to my first show.” you almost laughed because this is no stadium or club, but a home—one you built with him.

it takes only one smile from him for you to hold it back.

“any song requests?” he strums on the guitar strings, perfectly in tune. it’s almost as if he tuned it before coming to you.

a hum leaves you as you rest your head on your hand propped on the couch. “whatever you want to show me.”

it takes him a few seconds, fingers fiddling with the strings, until he figures out what to play. when he sings out the words—dearest, darling, my universe—you melt like the candles you lit up those nights. as he continues to play a song of a world in hysteria but a love that endures, that’s when you realize what you’ve had all this time.

time is the one thing that occupies your mind. it holds value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and you learned to revolve your life around it.

it takes you two years to figure out that life doesn’t end after the outbreak—and 17 months to realize that your safe haven is not a two-story house with an orange tree in the garden but the boy in front of you.

when you lean closer to him, his fingers falter, messing up the chords. your hand reaches out to caress his face as your eyes flicker to his lips. you don’t miss how taerae holds his breath, how he stops playing the guitar, how his eyes look back at yours—it’s a slurry of warmth, tenderness.

“i love you.”

all it took was a three-word phrase from you for him to close the distance.

the warmth that spreads within you is like the one you experience in the abandoned cabin. but now, you’re full of hope—a reason to stay—in an infected-ridden world.

now, only one question echoes within your mind: how much longer do we have?

an eternity is what you hope.

taglist ➵ @kflixnet @blankjournal

#works of moni #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 x reader #kim taerae #zb1 imagines #kim taerae imagines #zb1 angst #kim taerae angst #zb1 fluff #kim taerae fluff #sung hanbin #sung habin fluff #sung hanbin angst #sung hanbin x reader #sung hanbin imagines

53 notes · View notes

txtmetonight · 22 hours

Text

Recordings of the Clock ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ The wallows of slipping time are hidden behind a camera that Kim Seungmin wishes to stop.

pairing *. * Kim Seungmin x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Angst, fluff

warnings *. Mentions of dying, mentions of a disease, bad grammar

call duration⋆ ★ 5.6k

a/n*. * something short I conjured up during finals season, forgive me for not being active uhuhuhuh i think i'm gonna fail my math final...oh well. ermmm i also got a bit lazy at the end but whatevs we ball.

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet

25th of March

The camcorder starts to whir alive for the first time, much to Seungmin’s delight. It’s quite big and sturdy and he struggles to hold it a bit from its awkward grip adjusting his fingers from time to time, yet he is very proud of his purchase–you could see it on his face. The lens of the device sits in front of a cake which is right behind it is you, gleaming in excitement at the curiously situated camera.

You both don’t know it yet for Seungmin is still figuring out how to control the camcorder but it’s recording with the lens still unfocused.

“Minnie... are you sure you actually know how to use that. You look like you’re struggling.”

Seungmin scoffs at your comment but doesn’t say anything. The pads of his fingers play around with the various buttons and his brows furrow to your amusement and impatience. The candles are starting to drip onto the light-blue icing.

“We could do it later y’kno–”

“Oh, I got it!” Your husband cheers and suddenly the camera is pointed at you, running quite well in its glory. You smile cheeses at the lens and your husband tries to zoom in and out of your face, softly chuckling when you stick your tongue out at him.

He would say more, but you told him to play nice today since it was your first anniversary with each other and that he wouldn’t have married you if not for this day. He decides to comply with a small grumble.

“Can I blow out the candles now?” You ask but before he can say yes, you do it anyway, laughing loudly at his expression, which is contorted into a faux annoyance.

“Why would you ask, just to do it anyway?” He zooms into the cake with a little smile. He got the cake along with the camera just hours before as a surprise for you.

You shrug, your voice becoming a little muffled through the audio. “Aren’t you gonna sing us a happy anniversary song?”

“No.”

But his actions defy his words as he carefully sets the camcorder down in a position where it could still capture the both of you as he rounds the table towards you. He takes a small swipe at the cake to smear your nose when he sits down next to you, but you do nothing in retaliation.

You just grin and lean a bit closer and that’s when he finally sings to you, and you start to fluster underneath his gaze. It’s loving and deep when his hands trail to your jaw and cup your face. He kisses your cheeks.

“Happy anniversary lovely.”

11th of April

“Seungmin, look over here!”

The passing wind whips your husband’s hair into his face as he tries to face you with a broad smile. You laugh at his misery as the camera subtly shakes in your hold, trembling at the skittering steps you take to meet a huffing Seungmin.

The sun glares at the ground as people ranging from young to old scattered the small park on its threshold. The camcorder picks up the jovial energy through the recording and you’re satisfied with the clarity of it all. But your partner isn’t too ideal with your whole attention on this mere device.

“Just marry the camera at this point. You look like you’re about to kiss it.”

“Oh hush.”

You roll your eyes and switch the camera over to face it towards you both. You’re squinting into the lens, but Seungmin looks down at you, pressing a softening smooch to your hair, just before he grabs the camcorder out of your hands.

“Wait–give it back!”

The sky is a bright blue, and it practically blinds the glass especially at the way that Seungmin points the camera up.

“No way! We’re on a date! Your eyes should be on me. On your husband.”

You snort but ultimately give up your fruitless attempts, knowing him very well enough that he wasn’t going to succumb to your requests with the mind that he was indeed right in his reasoning. You instead punch him in the gut, which he hunches over for in pain before you sit down on the picnic blanket laid out on the ground.

He follows soon after and the grass folds underneath the camera’s weight–just a bit out of reach from your fingertips, pushing it away just slightly when you make a lunge for it.

Seungmin smiles smugly at your expense.

“You’re so mean to me,” You whine pulling your hand away from his sneaky fingers, but his reflexes are faster (or rather you were just slower of purpose), but he catches your arm and intertwines your pinkie with his. It catches you warm and tingly inside at his affection, yet you refuse to show him that in the amidst of your (fake) vexation.

Seungmin knows truly that you’re acting inside and so he lets himself open the small picnic basket he prepared for both of you and serves himself a sandwich...a sandwich that was supposed to be for you.

“Wow, this looks so good right now. Maybe I’ll eat this one today.” Seungmin brings the food up to his lips, just hovering over his teeth with a smile that grows even bigger when you don’t even spare him a glance. You instead choose to stare at his own meal that he packed for himself. When you see him take a small nibble from the corner of your eye, you let a disheartened sigh leave your lips.

You don’t see it immediately, but the man clicks his tongue and nudges himself a little closer to you, holding the sandwich up to your mouth now. You bite the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from giggling at his antics. He’s cute–really and every moment you spend with him, you’re reminded why you decided to marry him. Your fingers seem to clutch your hands a little tighter, overwhelmed with the amount of love that thrives through your veins.

“C’mon, I was just joking. Take a bite, I worked so hard on this!”

“Hmmm fine. If only you buy me ice cream later.”

He rolls his eyes but nonetheless agrees with your deal and with that, you take a bite out of the bread, taking it out of his hands with a meek chuckle. You find his beam that follows gorgeous.

The silence that consumes the area is peaceful and serene, yet you're soaking in the pure warmth that your lover radiates. The trees that provide the shade sway back and forth and the distinct laughter of children from a nearby pair of swings entrances your attention.

You’re stunning like this–Seungmin knows, has known for the first time he’d ever met you. But he’s still taken aback every single time, with a great surprise. The ring on your finger glimmers in his eyes.

“We need to start packing to go to your parent’s house on Sunday.” Seungmin groans taking the empty plastic plate away from you and replacing it with a small bowl of strawberries. You gratefully take them but your face cocks to the side with confusion.

“We’re going...to my parent’s house?”

Seungmin snorts, “Yeah stupid. It was your idea remember.” He pauses for a second and then continues, “Or actually my idea because I’m such a great son-in-law.”

“Yeah right. You argued with my dad over which baseball team was better. You really hurt his feelings that night.” You snort, slapping his arm.

“Because it was a serious matter!”

“Of course. I could never doubt you, Minnie.”

He manages to shove the red fruit down your mouth to shut you up.

29th of April

“Say hi.”

You roll your eyes and focus once more on the stack of papers on your desk. But you certainly don’t ignore his chuckles, a soft grin blooming on your face when he suddenly slams his hands on the documents.

“Minnie don’t disturb me. I need to submit this by tomorrow.”

“Why what happened?” He questions, looking closely at the random words that litter the page before he deems it too incomprehensible for his understanding. When you grumble, he innocently smiles at you.

“I accidentally arrived at the meeting a little too late...and mixed up some of the forms, and you know how Mr. Cheong is.” You ruffle your hair in your hands in exasperation. “He got pissed and decided to punish me for my ‘unresponsible behavior!’. Can you believe that?!”

Seungmin nods solemnly before he takes what he’s sure is the third cup of coffee that night. “Well, he’s an asshole...but I’ll leave you to it, I guess. Have fun!”

You groan. “Seungminnn!”

1st of June

The loud humming of a commercial is loud in the background, but Seungmin pays no mind to it, not when his loud chuckling overpowers it with you standing in front of him in a grimace. You’re sporting an apron that’s covered in a multitude of stains that you reject to get rid of simply because it is one of Seungmin’s first gifts to you after he found out about your dear fondness to cook.

Yet that sentiment to the pots and pans has brought you down for the first time in a while and you’re severely disappointed, to say the least. At least Seungmin’s having his fun and he’s talking to the camera as he’s at it, showing the lens the failed stew.

“You don’t have to be recording this...” You say, glaring at the bowl in front of him. He shrugs his shoulders and says, “It’s one in a chance lifetime moment.”

You’re not sure if you are offended or moved by his comment.

“Seriously, I don’t know what I did wrong! I swear I did exactly what I usually do!’ You stress, going back to where all the spices lay near the stove, checking every single one of them. Seungmin who usually expressed his delight for your food, scrunched his nose right as the spoon touched his tongue, pushing you into a mess.

“Lovely, which container did you use for salt?” He asks, looking over your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek to calm you down a bit. It helps a little, and you answer his question by picking up a fairly large pink container that was filled with salt. Or so you thought.

“That’s...the sugar box. That’s why it was so sweet.” He takes the container out from your hands as you furrow your eyebrows, sighing deeply at your idiotic mistake.

“Has it always been that box?” You weakly ask. You feel his nod and your lips tremble before you awkwardly squirm out of his grasp. As of recently, work has been cutting off your sleep and you find yourself more muddled than ever. You plan to call off work for the next two days and get your well-deserved rest.

But right now, you need to find the spoons and taste the stew yourself–except you forgot where they’ve gone!

“Where did we put the utensils again?!” You cry, frustration ripping you apart.

“Hey, hey, calm down a little. It’s gonna be okay.” Grabbing your hand, he bends down and kisses you softly against the counter, slowly wiping away the tears that roll down your face. You can’t help but feel horrible though.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I–I just messed up dinner and–”

Seungmin kisses you again and softly hugs you against his chest where you melt. His fingers thread through your hair and you can’t help releasing another choked sob. Everything has been so stressful recently and it feels nice in his arms.

“And it’s not the end of the world, is it? We can still order something nice. How does pizza sound for tonight?”

15th of June

“Where are we at Mrs. Kim?” Seungmin queries, zooming into your face as you swat your hand at him. Your cheeks redden when a couple of onlookers shoot their gazes your way, but you sigh and stare up at your husband.

“In the parking lot. Of a hospital.”

“Because why?”

You give him a look. “Because I haven’t been taking care of myself and got sick.”

He nods and pinches your cheek. He supposes that you both look odd with a big camera in his hands, but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. He rather would watch these old videos with his future family with you, laughing at all the stupidity.

“Minnie I’m not even that sick though–really! Maybe you’re overreacting a little.”

“I’m not going to listen to a physically ill person.” He sings.

You cross your arms and look away in annoyance. Sometimes your fingers itched to wrap around his throat to strangle him, and that tingle was very apparent now as his arms brushed alongside yours.

“And that physically ill person is also your wife, who knows her body better than you do. You know this will just be another unnecessary bill added to our insurance.”

“Yep. And I don’t care.... 'cause we’re already here. Say bye to our baby.” He lets you take the camera for now as you raise eyebrows at his claims, softly chuckling to yourself about his ridiculousness.

“Our baby? Really?”

He nods. “Yeah of course. Now say bye, and we’ll see him later after the appointment.”

“Wait. Why is it a bo–”

The damned camera now focuses on a small bird in her nest before it flips back to Seungmin’s face.

“Alright, we’re back baby. Do you wanna tell our daughter how the meeting with the doctor went.” Seungmin coos at you to rile you up. And it works well because you’re especially snappy today when you twist the skin of his waist, making him yelp in pain.

“Horrible. They took my blood. And Kim Seungmin, if you make me anymore angry than I am right now, I swear to fucking god, I will snap your head in half.”

“Yikes we can’t have that now, can we?” He shakes his head and before he can get another word out, you (softly) slam the camcorder shut.

19th of June

“Hellooo! We are playing Uno and our dear Seungmin is biting the curb. He fucking sucks at the game!” Felix exclaims into the camera, his endearing freckles up close and personal to the camera. He pulls out his own cards and shows them secretly to Lens–his deck consisting of three two-pluses and two other random cards of blue and yellow.

He has the least number of cards out of the whole group playing and it’s evidently shown when he turns his hands around. And just as he said, Seungmin truly is horrible because he now holds what looks like half of the deck in his hands.

Right next to him is you though who thought that it would be better not to play as you started to mess up whatever the hell you were doing with your cards. You blamed it on the influx of alcohol in your system as to why you were acting so dozy.

“I’m so sorry Seungmin. But this is the only card I have!” Jisung apologizes (though you could all tell he definitely wasn’t feeling sorry) and proceeds to place a four plus in the growing stack of discard. It’s funny to see the man rage.

“Fuck you.” He seethes but nevertheless succumbs to his defeat grabbing another four cards to add to between his fingers which causes a robust found of laughter from your group, Chan practically turning red at the face from the amusement. Minho laughs softly then turns towards you and offers another drink that you refuse with shaking hands and a gentle smile, pressing a kiss to your husband’s shoulder when he releases another fit of anger. His friends were certainly not playing nicely tonight. But it’s all fun and loud.

“Hey guys...say cheese!” Felix shrieks when he finally places his last card down–a yellow six and Changbin gets berated by Jeongin after he promised him that Felix doesn’t have any yellow cards.

20th of June

You’re sitting alone on the couch curiously watching your husband busy himself making tea. It’s “teatime” he had told you after randomly watching a rather boring movie on TV that was for some reason making a delectable scene of tea making. You both decided to turn off that awful show and converse yourself into a debate about how to properly eat Bungeo-pang while drinking a nice cup of warm infusion.

He’s fairly quick with his brewery skills and is out by you in no time, handing your mug to you (but not before he took a small sip out of it) and crouches down right in front of the camcorder.

“What’s the proper way to eat Bungeo-pang–from the tail or from the head? Start!” He claps his hands loudly and you in turn laugh at his dorkiness but settle yourself comfortably to absolutely destroy your husband with your reasoning. Who in the world eats fish bread from the tail anyway?

“Obviously the right way to eat Bungeo-ppang from the head. It’s just morally correct!” You argue, taking a sip of the drink in your hands. Your husband who couldn’t disagree more scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“How is eating the head more ‘morally’ correct than eating from the tail. That just seems cruel!”

“Because if you eat the head first, then the fish would already be dead and wouldn’t experience the pain of being eaten alive! If you start from the tail, then it’ll slowly die out!”

“It’s not even alive, lovely. Eating from the tail is just more satisfying! It’s less messy too.”

You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow. “But what if it was alive? Then what would you do then? Also, how is ‘less’ messy than staring from the head, Minnie?”

“Because–” He groans before the phone cuts him off. It’s shrill and it catches you off guard for a second as you jump in your place on the couch. You both let the phone ring for a second only to have Seungmin get up to his feet and take the call after a recent event where you were hit with severe disorientation after taking a random call from a wrong number. You just remember rambling to the phone...even though the call had been cut. It was awkwardly weird.

“I’ll be back. And then I’ll show you exactly why eating from the tail is better.”

You shrug your shoulders and shoo him off (he didn’t exactly like that because he stuck his tongue out) but you hear his footsteps stumble at a loose floorboard. You huff at his clumsiness and turn to stare at the window, formulating more quarrels to use against your lover in a light-hearted discussion.

Yet you forget them all when Seungmin comes back with a sour look on his face and his mood tense. He doesn’t say anything as he stalks over to you slowly, but his eyes climb through your features with such desperation that you have a sudden pain of ache in your heart and your fingers quiver on your thighs.

“Who...who was that on the phone?” You poke, taking his sweet hands into yours.

“Ah, it was the doctor. They got your tests back.” He sighs looking down at his cup on the table.

“I see. What did Doctor Jung say?”

Seungmin stiffly clears his throat and plays with your fingers–a habit that he enforces when he finds himself under stress. “Er–he said that you had some inflammation in your blood tests that were causing your...symptoms.” He winces right after though.

You go quiet at his words. "Is the inflammation serious?”

“I’m dunno. Something about your immune system attacking your own tissues–I think.” Seungmin moves in a little closer and kisses the corner of your lips. “He said that you should go ahead and see a neurologist, lovely.” His pout deepens with the passing moment.

Exhaling deeply, you take your husband off guard when you punch his chest hard. The way he was acting, you thought that you were going to die! But you would be lying that his solemness for your health didn’t make you feel a little warm inside.

“I thought it was something much more serious!”

“But it is serious!” He defends, hiding in the crook of your neck. “I suppose, but I promise you I’ll be fine!” You hold at your pinky for him to take, squirming at the way that he nuzzles his nose.

Looking at your finger, he glances at you once more before he pretends to bite pinky off. But then he seals the promise off while grumbling about how you two babies weren’t anymore.

22nd of January

“Lovely, here’s your medicine for today,” Seungmin says and you mourn miserably and take down the sickly-flavored treatment. Your husband brushes his fingers over your cheeks as the heavy weight of the camera settles into a familiar grip now that he points it in your direction.

Whereas he used to film with it every day, this is the first time in months since he picked it up after having to take care of you after you got diagnosed with Autoimmune Encephalitis which severely affected your brain. Worst of his fears–honestly when you both found out.

Going to cognitive therapy back home then to a hospital and then back home again on repeat has unquestionably taken up both of your time.

“Minnie, I hate this so much,” You whine before you look up at the camera and tap it lightly on the lens. “Where did you get this from?”

He hums and brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, “Hmm a while ago.”

“Oh. Why’d you bring it out now?”

“Because I want to try something really quick” Seungmin painfully chuckles, pressing his lips on yours for a second before he grabs the remote next to you and changes the channel.

“Hey! I was watching that!”

“Sorry lovely.” He places another kiss that you chase after when he pulls apart. “But don’t you want to dance to our wedding song?”

“Our...wedding song?” You quietly whisper, hesitantly taking his hand. The doubt in your voice breaks his heart, a sound that has slowly become habitual in his ears. It’s saddening but he can’t stop hurting himself for you.

“I don’t know if I remember the steps.”

He grabs your waist pulls you into him and softly sways the both of you. It’s tender and sweet with a note of bittersweetness as you stare at him, carefully watching his pupils tremble and his lips pressing together when he looks down at you. “That’s okay. Just follow me.”

He clicks play on the remote and throws the device down onto the table, letting the faint melody play out from the speakers. You’re not sure if it’s familiar–you haven’t felt anything so intimate anymore as you dwindle into a tunnel of lost memories. But with your husband right near you, your body sinks into his. Horribly astray from the path of your past, you wonder how to stop your lover from hurting as his eyes brim with unspoken tears that you kiss away.

The audio is faint through the camera even as the TV picks up its volume and leads into a stunning piece that you wobble and spin to with unsteady feet filled with calluses that you couldn’t recognize.

You want to imagine yourself in that white dress with heels that dig into your skin, with a veil that rocks to the wind as you both recite loving vows. You really do–but it’s opaque in your head even as hard you try to paint an image with colors. Any image that would fill that gap in your brain.

It’s antagonizing as the camcorder records the melancholy of the dance, of what was supposed to be happy now turned depressing as Seungmin recites his promises of that fateful night and the tears he shed over in a beautiful you while he picks you and twirls you around.

7th of Feburary

The night sky is seemingly apparent filled with stars and the sounds of croaking frogs and chirping crickets are loud and echoing. It’s tranquil yet the moon cries. The camera shows its pearly tears that are luminescent with the glowing sky.

“I love you,” Seungmin mumbles.

“I love you too, Minnie...”

15th of March

The doorbell rings and from where you sit at the dining table, you perk up at it as you try to mouth some of the memory exercises that your therapist had given you to practice. Seungmin who was right next to you, helping you along with a small smile, immediately gets up to go answer the door.

“Hey lovely, there’s someone here to meet you.”

It takes you a second to register his words, but you curiously look up to find a nervous-looking man standing in the middle of your entryway, staring at you with wide eyes. Seungmin who stands next to him, pushes him along, chastising him for being so bizarre like he’s seeing you for the first time. But the man cannot stop ogling at you with a nostalgic look.

You wave at him and accidentally nudge the device that was by your arms, which breaks him at of his daze.

“It’s been a while huh?” Minho trails off and his stomach turns at the way that you glance over at your husband in a feverish glance. He doesn’t think you remember him, remember one of your best friends from high school and it casts a shadow over his eyes that you seem to notice and sigh throbbingly.

“Uhhh um, I’m so–sorry. I don’t really...I suppose you’re...one of my friends?”

Minho chuckles and puts down one of your favorite desserts (double chocolate chip cookies) in front of you. “Yeah. I am.”

“You feel fam–familiar to me? Sorry, I don’t know your name?” You breathe, swallowing deeply when the man looks away at you. You hear his chest stutter, and you feel bad, but you try to listen closely to him when he utters his name. Your husband watches wistfully as you parrot it back to him carefully.

You’re not sure if it’s foreign on your tongue but it brings you great sadness that stabs into your heart with an ever-growing puncture.

Minho chokes on his stammer at the way that your eyes pool with tears and the wails that you cry in misery.

22nd of March

“Do you wanna tell the camera what we’re dressed up as today?” Seungmin asks, rubbing your hair and cheeks with his thumbs. He’s gentle as he does it and waits patiently for you to answer. You’re blinking up at him slowly as you nod your head and ruffle that animal onesie that you both match in.

“Uhhh a d–dog?” You say, sweetly grinning up at him when he places a tender kiss on your forehead, staying there and soaking in the moment of it all. His warmth is radiating, and you wrap your hands around him. Your husband then presses his lips to your ring finger where your ring lays, the same ring that you watch glinting in the sunlight as it shimmers at the love that he has for you.

Your heart seems to beat faster, and you feel yourself dust in a sheet of red that Seungmin makes fun of you of, and he falls back into those mindless squabbles that you both used to share. The ones that he reminiscences of, late at night and beer in hand, flipping through a scrapbook that you made for him for his birthday a long time ago.

And when you laugh at him, his heart swells at the way that your entertainment hasn’t changed one bit. That you still let your eyes crinkle even though your body was slowly killing you–the truth of it all. And that you’re still yourself, the same person that Seungmin fell in love with all of those years ago when you bumped into him at a small get-together. You’re still his lovely.

He still loves you with the same amount that he’d always had. In sickness and in health.

24th of May

“Hey, Minnie. Should...should I change out of this?” You’re still in your sweatpants and black top after coming back from the hospital while holding the camcorder in your hand, following your husband’s frantic movement all over the kitchen with a giggle. He emits excitement and happiness, that oozes from the tips of his fingers, akin to a little child. But you can’t exactly blame him for the same feeling of frenzy that runs through your back, making you shiver.

“Nope! It’s fine! Just hold on a second–oh there it is!” His hands held a metal knife while half of the cutlery drawer was out on the counter from his search.

His voice is giddy and strains his throat a little but truly his happiness seems to explode inside of him. A wish that he’d been praying for has finally come true, after being watered with desperate tears and sounds of silent sobs, your body was able to take in the medication without rejecting it.

It’s a special day as you both elate inside with hope, so much of it that he had an impulse drive to the nearest bakery to buy a big, large cake and to cut it at home with you to celebrate. You both noticed that you were slightly getting better over the past few months and specialists were able to confirm that indeed you were slowly recovering.

“I’m so proud of you.” He litters your face with butterfly kisses that murmur all what he wanted to say to you and more. It’s needed you realize, and it’s at the way that your skin burns with a mushy feel that melts your guts. And it’s all so much, so warm that you cry into his chest as he holds the trembling knife in your hands, half-way through the cake.

“Thank you...I love you so much.”

Your husband doesn’t say anything but move apart just a little and grab a piece of cake, a small piece to shove into your mouth. He then swipes the blue frosting and rubs it on your cheeks, cooling down the red that covers them, flushed at how heavy you blubber nonsensically. You’re so grateful to him and you hope that he knows that.

“Yeah? Well guess what? I love you more.”

18th of August

The dull lights of the hospital are blurring and depressing as soft murmurs of voices from outside cascade past the room. Seungmin doesn’t know how it’s been since he’s been stuck in this same position, but he doesn’t dare to get up. Earlier your parents were here, and he was in a spot to comfort them over their dear daughter, but he now wonders who is here for him now. He closes his eyes in torturous agony.

It used to be you who would sit next to him and hold your husband next to your heart, but he supposes that he doesn’t have you anymore. His arms try to cover for yours, but they could never compare to your comfort. What he considered a daydream is now a reality as he watches your chest rise and go down, figure linked up to a bunch of machines monitoring your vitals. You were doing so fine until your body decided to give up again and you both find yourself at step one–all over again. Perhaps even worse.

Seungmin doesn’t know why he’s recording your sleep and maybe it’s a little creepy, but he just wishes that he could stop time. Just for a second.

You look peaceful and so, so stunning that it physically rips him apart. The eyebags that crease your eyes are nothing in his eyes and the way that you appear is painless and he knows that this is better for you. An endless sleep. He figures that’s what you deserve.

He scooches himself a little closer to plant what seems to be one final kiss, right on the corner of your lips. You’re so beautiful. And all fate wanted was to tear you away from his arms. Even though you promised that you would be fine.

Seungmin thinks that he might have run out of tears as he packs away the last of your stuff in boxes. His fingertips brush over the old recordings in nostalgia and he wishes that he took more videos of you. He feels cold as the last one plays out fully in a loop, and he cannot find it in himself to detach himself away from you. Yet his hand gusts over another tape he doesn’t remember about. He curiously pulls it out to check what it is.

Love notes to my Husband <3333

Soft whispering is in the background before you move into frame, your eyes squint as you stare at the device with a big smile.

“Oh, is this on? Hi Minnie!” You laugh and twinkle your fingers at the camera with eagerness before you cinch your eyebrows together. “Wait if you’re not my husband then don’t watch this...but if you actually are then um...I love you?” Hands tapping on your thighs, you look up at the ceiling to gather your thoughts before you gaze into the camera's lens with a sigh.

“So actually. I just want to say that I love you Minnie so so so much and that I’m so happy that you actually married me. To be honest, I think that we were soulmates in our past lives and hopefully, we will meet again in our next ones. I am so thankful for you and all you have done for me, Minnie. I really love youuuuuu” You stretch the last syllable out and walk back to the camera, now just crouching in front of it.

“And remember to keep on smiling!”

You kiss the side of the camcorder before turning it off.

#skz x reader #seungmin x reader #k-labels #stray kids x reader #seungmin #stray kids #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin #skz angst #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop ff #kpop #kpop x reader

41 notes · View notes

gyumibear · 1 day

Text

🧪 accidentally in love! — 06: don’t be a stranger

synopsis — after a failed chemistry prank, one after class "detention" starts a romance between beloved student body president yang jungwon and l/n y/n, campus celebrity & serial prankster. but with graduation a few months away, will their love stay strong or leave them as jaded strangers?

warnings — swearing, mentions of murder, implied alcohol consumption

← previous | masterlist | next →

notes — soul and riki fist fight bonus chapter? 👀 jkjk

taglist — open! send a reply or ask to be added: @sol3chu @haechology @20crowsinahoodie @yongbokified @sirenla @mark-geolli @moond1or @ilovejungwonandhaechan @skzhoes @ahnneyong @xiaoderrrr @jwonistic @allforhee

#k-labels #kflixnet #kbookshelf #kpop smau #jungwon smau #jungwon x reader #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #jungwon social media au #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon smau #jungwon fic

17 notes · View notes

forlix · 5 months

Text

· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO

a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.

but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.

fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.

the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”

“wha—huh? what is?”

“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”

your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.

“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”

no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”

he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.

“you’re…embarrassed?”

the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.

“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”

“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”

“i know, right? i was just about to say.”

minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.

but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).

you take it into your own hands. literally.

you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.

he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.

“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!

minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.

but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.

you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”

minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.

you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.

(good luck.)

changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.

your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—

“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.

that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.

you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.

you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date.

no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it exceptionally funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.

jisung turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.

the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.

“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”

you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.

he loses it.

the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.

chan and jisung look at each other and sigh. jisung takes a video.

hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.

on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.

on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.

the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.

hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.

then, she flirts with him.

from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.

your fork clatters to your plate.

FUCK time and place.

the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.

you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.

once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice: “you might be the sexiest person on earth."

jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.

you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.

finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.

“baby, your mouth is open.”

you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”

“what do you mean?”

“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”

jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”

“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”

jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”

“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”

it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.

“do i actually?”

“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”

“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”

the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.

you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.

felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.

he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.

it returned to the forefront right before bed.

“you do it when you’re nervous?”

“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”

“what, checking my pulse?”

“mine.”

you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.

the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.

“well?” he whispered.

“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”

“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.

the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.

two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.

felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck.

his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.

let me.

you do.

his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.

the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence.

“well?” you whisper.

“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips.

he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.

the earth slants under his feet.

“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”

seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade.

“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”

do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”

“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”

“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”

upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.

“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”

but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.

“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.

“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”

“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”

“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.

puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.

one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.

you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—

“I KNEW IT!”

you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)

“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”

you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.

now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.

“HOW MANY TIMES?”

jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.

“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)

“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.

after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”

“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.

“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”

“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”

“mmm, this one will.”

“doubtful.”

fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)

“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”

you wait. “is that it?”

“yes!”

why was the delivery so grand?

jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”

you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.

yoon counts you off. “ready…”

“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.

“shut up, pipsqueak.”

“set…GO!”

in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.

desperate times call for desperate measures.

you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”

both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.

the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)

but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.

jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.

he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—

you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)

yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)

—dissipates, immediately.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ・ @automaticpersonabatpaper

6K notes · View notes

wonryllis · 3 months

Text

watermelon sugar (m) | sim jaeyun.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁?

preview. he’s the sweetest to you, one might confuse him for your boyfriend, but he’s not, he just your fuckboy of a roommate who treats you like a delicate candy, always looking out for you and never at you; or so you think.

or where, jake can't seem to get you off his mind no matter how hard he tries.

meet the cast. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader

genre. and they were roommates trope, fuckboy soft for his girl trope, SMUT MDNI!!!, lots of toothrooting fluff, tiny speck of angst but not proper angst, drunk confessions?, only one who can control him/her trope, happy happy ending, crack/humor, domestic scenes(newly added) college fuckboy athelete roommate!jake with his candy!roommate girl. computer science & programming major!reader, exercise physiology major!jake, nonidol!au, soccer player!jake.

word count. 13,488 unedited! it's word vomit.

warnings. fingering, dry humping, dirty talkkk lots and lots of it, nasty freak jake with innocent(seems to be) girlie, experienced x inexperienced(virgin but has idea), pussy slapping, somewhat drunk sex but there's consent consent, oral (m rec.) different scenes, p in v (unprotected! but pls pls pls do not do this ever use protection!!!!!) multiple orgasms (f.rec), overstimuation(f.rec) and somewhat (m.rec), spitting? slight nipple play, jake is rough and filthy, with heavyyyyy corruption kink it's all throughout the story, strength kink, size difference “i worship the ground you walk on” energy but still dominant jake, jake has soooo many dirty inner thoughts about you it's innumerable. he's a simp for you so you're a slut for him— i guess that's them?

theme song. animals by maroon 5 (jake pov), into you by ariana grande (yn pov)

﹙★﹚ ࣪DRABBLES (find them here)

` author notes. im sorry for making you guys wait three extra weeks I hope y'all still want to read this,, what do i say it was so horrible before the revamp, thankfully it's so much better now and the smut god, it was so hard to write it i hope it's good enough. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED!!

“i don’t mind this feeling.”

YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT, WHATEVER IS HAPPENING BETWEEN YOU BOTH, BUT YOU LIKE IT. IT FEELS SILLY AND FRAGILE AND GOOD. perhaps a little too good.

god forbid what you had done in your past life to get a roommate like jake, a complete package; a concoction of all classic kinds of roommate one could possibly expect. you aren’t complaining though he takes care of you in every way he possibly could. making you feel like his entire world revolves around you, from his time home to the hours he spends on the field. one would ask anything of him and his answer would surely include you in one way or another, everyone knew it, everyone could see it, the way he feels.

he makes you breakfast, he helps with the cleaning- you both actually have it planned to have a cleaning day every week to polish the apartment. he cooks for you and he does the dishes more often than not, the only exception being the time when you insist deathly on doing it yourself because come on you gotta do at least some thing around the house.

to add to the perfect mixture of god gifted man, he video games in his room with the door shut so that the sound of him shouting at the screen doesn’t disturb you. does the laundry- even your bras and underwear, he’s just too used to those clothings to give a care to get embarrassed (outwardly). he would never admit the way they get him all hot and bothered when he thinks of all the places those fabrics have touched. how wild his imagination runs and all the things he wishes he could do to you. all the sounds he could get, out of you and all the things you'd taste of.

you are his candy (well not exactly ‘his’ but according to him this nickname of yours is only and I repeat only reserved for him) literally because you are all over sweets all the damn time and figureratively because he’d die to have a taste of you; the forbidden fruit of his life, too innocent for a person like him to ruin. but lord would he give up everything to land a chance to lay his hands on you not so innocently.

this man does not give a fuck about who is not you, and maybe occasionally spare a care for his two best friends who so far have only been blessed enough to know your name because jake has made it clear that you're off-limits and if they ever dare to do anything given the opportunity he'd rip off their balls and feed it to ducks (he's serious he swears)

getting to the real point of your dynamic: the only drawback— jake sim is a renowned fuckboy on campus, the heartbreak prince and you, his miss americana as they all like to call it. it is a daily routine, having to find a new girl in the house and ofttimes hearing them even with your door closed and your hands pressed on your ears. at first it felt disgusting, then you got used to it, and now very recently you’ve been feeling weirdly dejected. a certain kind of hatred towards the girls, something you can’t pin point exactly to why and what it is.

“candy, my laptop broke down again!” jake's raspy voice dances through the little cracks of the bathroom door as you prepare for a quick shower. you sigh, tightening the towel wrapped around you before stepping out. a short knock at his batman poster door left ajar, and he's whipping his head to have a look at you as if he knew you'd be in the middle of washing up. a little secret, yes he knew because everytime ahead of bathtime you make sure to have a sip of your watermelon slush stack from the fridge and the sound of it's door reaches his room just right to let him know.

he remains seated on his bed, a sheepish smile on his face. your eyes fall at his desk to see his laptop closed, he tricked you, and like always you fell for it,“maybe if you used your school laptop to study instead of playing games on it, this wouldn't happen all the time. but i assume you probably did it to get me here, it’s not gonna work everytime yun,” you click your tongue in feigned annoyance making him grin wider,“well it does work everytime though,” he knows how to have you on his tail just like you know how to have him wrapped around your finger. it only seems fair, you both know what gets the other going and you use it to your advantage.

“what is it?” asking in a sing song tone, you plop down on his desk chair. spinning in rounds with your legs out swinging, hands gripping onto the arms of the chair while looking up at the phosphorescent glow-in-the-dark stickers you had forcefully put up on the ceiling of his room. a funny memory of jake trying to stop you because it would defeat the whole image of his room only to fold when you gave him the puppy doe eyes, baby talking that you really wanted to do it. it doesn't take much to have jake cave in, just one look from you and the boy is a flatline. fuckboy? he is that to everyone but to you he's practically whatever you want him to be, though you have never really had a talk about it.

“actually eunsang, she-” there is a hesitation is his tone you are well aware of, having almost a clear idea of what he's about to say,“i told- no warned you not to get involved with her for a second time, didn’t i?” you scold, feeling that little twinge of hurt knowing he probably will keep on being involved with girls like this no matter what you say. it's the one thing where you don't have him under your spell. or that's you think, i mean you you have no idea do you of how much he wants you. just like how you have no idea how much you want him.

“yes but it happened and now she’s after me all the time, she even showed up to my soccer practice yesterday! please just this one time, please help me get rid of her,” clamping together his hands in a plea, jake pouts as best as he can, giving you his puppy eyes. but when you don’t show a reaction of any sort he resorts to the next best guaranteed thing: bribery,“i’ll buy you tons of watermelon lollipops! from your favorite brand that too!” eyes sparkling with hope and expections of having you fall for it, like you do every single time, he waits. albeit patterns break, in everything and everyone.

“no, i’m on a diet. i gave up on sweets, what if i get diabetes? will you,” you point at him dramatically,“take responsibility?” to which his stance morphs into one of stunned. he would gladly take responsibility for you at any given chance, but it's one of more gravity and significance than diabetes. and he's sure he's not one you should be in care of as more than anything that you are right now. he's too corrupted and you are too naive.

“yes of course i’ll help you take your meds and-” he mumbles in a quick, hurried note aware that you’ll not let him answer if he’s not fast enough. you still beat him to it though, speaking loud over and above his voice, to drown out his words despite hearing them quite clearly,“will you? NO you will not! so let me just shower peacefully before i get the urge to lock you in the bathroom when you’re in there later,” with a silence after, one that has jake grinning again at your cuteness, you take it as a que to rush out swiftly. trying to make it to the bathroom before he decides to use his strength against you and hold you down wherever he wants. which though hasn't been often, has always left you breathless and flustered to a point you refuse to admit.

training to become an athlete, a buff center forward in comparison to you who barely puts effort into doing even a little bit of yoga once a month. it’s obvious he’ll have you give in if he wants but he’s too sweet to force you. and of course it's obvious, the tension of the strength kink that looms over in the room.

it comes as a shock to you when the next day, the first thing you see waking up in the morning and walking into the living room: is eunsang standing by the kitchen counter. and important point: clad in one of jake’s dress shirts that you recognize from doing his laundry occasionally, pouring herself a glass of water. oh you had to see this coming, this is jake we're talking about will be really ever like ever not bring over girls? no matter if they're clingy or not. the answer is ambiguous and definitely not to your favor.

she’s shares a small smile upon noticing you, a friendly smile which you know is obviously fake. she’s doing it just to look good and polite in jake’s eyes. just to show that she's not bothered by you, because as said everyone knows if they don't like you then they automatically are on jake sim's blacklist. and being the star player of the team, his acquaintance is more or less influential to a large extent, so note to be taken be nice to candy to not be on the cross out list.

however as sad as it is to say it’s of no use. she’s not even there in his eyes to begin with. the moment the jake comes out of his room, his field of vision doesn’t include her. passing by her very visible figure like she’s a microscopic bug to ruffle your hair in a dotting manner, his morning voice coming out in an adoring essence,“good morning, candy,” he smiles and scrunches up his nose when he notices the baby cat you both adopted last month, curled up in the corner of the couch,“and mei,” he acknowledges your pet kitty but not the girl he brought home, that should speak volumes to you, jake thinks. treating you like candy of his world you are, shouldn't that be the ultimate giveaway of his feelings? like even his hookups can see how down bad he is for you why is it that you're the only one who can't? he wants you to know but at the same time he feels he's not right for you, a dilemma he handles by fucking up over and over again.

wishing him morning in response you give him a look which silently delivers your question of what is going on. you did hear them last night (more like her), but you didn’t know it was her her. you weren’t even expecting her to be the one. after the conversation with jake yesterday, she was the last person you would have ever assumed. he sends you a flying look that he’ll explain everything later, shushing you off before you speak out loud.

“yunie,” your ears perk up at her voice, eyes narrowing in a deadly stare at the nickname you exclusively call him with, leaving her crusty mouth. certainly, like jake you blossom a definite possession over names too. perhaps it's the effect of living with him 24/7 but you seem to have picked up a lot of his antics.

jake’s eyes shift to look at you for a moment and then he’s running a hand through his hair, dropping his sweet conduct to get back into his usual cold fuckboy self. he absolutely does not like the way your brows turn down and the pretty smile you were previously adorning for him falling off your pretty lips. he can tolerate anything but seeing you bothered in any way. “you’re still here? it's better if you leave soon, candy doesn’t like all this,” walking around her to the other side of the counter and into the kitchen to open the upper cabinets, jake ignores her like a plague as if he wasn't showing her heaven last night. but alas, nothing comes above you, she should have known that.

“what do you want for breakfast candy? should i make you some toast? or do you want your usual dose of sugar?” his palms rest on the granite countertop, leaning against it slightly while turning to fix his gaze on you. it makes eunsang rage with anger, throwing you a demeaning look before she disappears into jake's room.

the moment his bedroom door closes, you feel the unfamiliar weight on your shoulders relax a tad bit,“my watermelon slush please,” finding your cozy spot on the kitchen counter, you give him your most adorable pout feeling like you had to gain back his warmth after the hookup. your legs dangle over the height between, toes softly brushing against jake's calves every two seconds. watching him prepare your drink, you decide to voice out the thing that had been disturbing since the moment you walked out your room,”did you like make a friends with benefit kind of arrangement or something?” it comes out in a low whisper, afraid if you said it too loud it'd come true. the thought of it disturbs you for some reason, it’s not new for you to see random girls in your apartment; or to hear them while they’re at it. yet it still gives you a sort of uneasy feeling, something you do not like feeling.

“it was a last time kind of deal actually,” he stops briefly to give you a quilty smile. finishing your sweet slushy just as eunsang hastily steps out, wearing what you assume her clothes from the previous night. she slows down to observe as jake hands you the cup, repulsively watching you take a sip,“is it good?” hearing him speak in a tone way different than the one she’s acquainted with him using with her has stomp her way out in a grumpy fit.

looking up from the edge of your cup with hopes to give her a sly stare, your eyes follow her figure, flinching silently when she bangs the door close harshly,“bitch,” you comment, hooded orbs shifting back to jake who scowls in disapproval,”language candy,” he reminds, knowing very well it does nothing to stop you.

“sorry yunie but she's so agressive, and for what?” you whine.

“from what i’ve seen, you’re way more aggressive,” jake laughs softly, index finger coming to poke at your cheek tenderly.

with full cheeks, you grin like a cheshire cat and jake feels his heart rate speeding up, who gave you the permission to be the cutest person he's ever known? the urge to kiss you just keeps growing with each passing day and with with each little sneaky smile and doe eyes you give him.

“we need to get the groceries this week, i have after classes soccer practice for the next four days and we're not gonna last that long,” the thought of spending the next four evenings alone in the unit is gloomier than the half assed ham and cheese toast jake makes for himself. if only you said yes to some proper breakfast, his taste buds and stomach wouldn't be suffering so much.

you nod as if he has eyes on his back, knowing well he's gonna want you with him but not force you, if you'd say no. whatever you want, is whatever he does.

“‘m gonna go take a shower first then,” hopping down, you place your empty mug in the sink, and skip to your room to take your bath supplies.

“let’s shower together,” jake's friskiness thrives in the way he shouts with an undertone of mischief. watching you with a teasing gaze as you step out the threshold of your bedroom door. a tiny smirk spreading onto his lips when you scrunch your nose in a grimace. cute, he mouths thinking you wouldn't notice but god you do. he's clearly joking but you can’t help feeling flustered internally. keeping up with his flirty and touchy stunts and tricks should have made it easier for you by now, but over a year in and you're yet to find yourself getting used to it. he’s too attractive and hot to get used to; at least that’s what excuse your brain gives you, which honestly is true to some extent. his looks score a lot of points and you can't deny that.

“and if we get locked in there, who’s gonna get us out? you know the door lock has problems,” you complain in a soft groan which, in his eyes is more adorable with the little annoyance you show. if you think you could ever intimidate him, you probably will because he'll melt right away to even think of a counter back.

his stance straightens at that, a fleeting look of flabbergast clouding his face before he’s breaking out in a taunt of smile, eyes closing in on you in a brazen look,“so does that mean if the lock was fine you’d actually shower together with me,” he feels this triumph of emotions, a sudden rush of sugar at the realization that'd probably maybe perhaps someday let him get in the shower together with you. the sheer excitement he experiences through his veins is over the roof, just the possibility of something so intimate with you is a bite of golden spoon for him.

he purposely stops all he’s doing to stare at you, moving his eyebrows cheekily, trying to provoke you,“i never said that,” you stick your tongue out at him, closing the door in a soft slam and crying out a ‘you’re sick in the head!’

“only for you!” jake yells back, chuckling to himself as he leaves the room.

two hours later you’re both strolling through the isles of shelving, bright florescent lighting, end displays of popular products, sale signs, banners with store mottoes, isle signs with product locations, rows and rows of household products and everything you'd always spend lots of time looking through until jake has to drag you back home.

he pushes the cart while you look around for items to throw in and cross out one by one from your checklist. the way you both discuss and bicker over what to keep in the cart and what not to every two minutes will lead any sane person to conclude you as a couple. you both would also admit it feels as such. how he insists on taking what you like while you argue that you’re on a diet and need to cut down on the consumption and desires of your sweet tooth. it feels sweet, he feels sweet. and you make him want to coddle you so bad, like what do you mean you're on a diet? you're perfect already. too perfect for him.

“i’m taking the pop tarts!” you hear him shout from two or probably three Isles away while you look through some new make up launches,”…okay fine!” capturing the attention of an old couple who glance at your way and mutter something you don’t quite catch but you assume it’s probably about how annoying you both are, shouting at the mart.

“yunie look these are so pretty,” you point at the line of lipgloss as jake comes over with cart. he hums in agreement, watching you scan through the shades in an animated mood, mumbling over the names and speaking of how it'd look good for an everyday look or with summer dress you recently got. oh how smitten he feels, observing the way you seem so pumped up simply over gloss.

“there's no mirror— “

“try it on me,” oh he's bewitched under your spell.

jake stands still as you apply the mauve on him, staring at you through hooded eyes,”oh, this one’s really pretty on you!” you beam, looking up at him as if he could see it too.

“it'd look prettier on you,” he's hardly able to whisper out, gaze trained on the way you part your lips while you wipe it off his and apply another. if he didn't have a strong self control, by now he would have shoved his tongue down your throat in the dirtiest and messiest kiss you'd ever known. knocking your breath out, as well as his. he's already on the verge of losing it with every little touch you leave on his lips, wetting your own as a habit.

“which one should i take?” you ask something cutely, jake almost feels guilty for the thoughts swimming in his head.

“i’ll buy all of it for you, we can do something like a chapstick challenge you know. the one where you kiss and guess the flavor,” he teases loving the tiny exasperated glare you throw him. “yunn, be serious! which one?”

“these two?” he points to ones you commented were pretty feeling impatient at the conjured up image of you wearing the colors on with you tiny, sexy little sundresses you got hidden in your closet. please feel guilty man he thinks.

in the end jake (successfully) convinces you to continue your diet later over the summer break offering to help you with it. and grabs a bunch of packets of your favorite snacks, your favorite brand’s watermelon lollipops and not to forget the fruit itself. checking all out he insists on carrying everything himself, only handing you the little bag that held your lollies in case you'd want one on the way back.

the subway is more crowded than usual, scarcely any seat left. it takes you a whole minute to scan around for an empty one, immediately encouraging jake to take it. a silly game of rock paper scissors to decide who stands, insisting firmly that he sit when you end up winning. the grocery bags rest by his foot and you stand between his legs, holding onto the bar wobbling every now and then. it’s just one stop left when jake suddenly pulls you onto his lap, adjusting you comfortably on his thighs and placing his hands on your legs possessively. you turn to look at him, lashes brushing against his skin and lips parting in the slightest at the adrenaline you feel pumping into your fast beating heart. the muscles in his chest feel firm at the faint touch of your back against him, the thumping of his own heart similar to that of yours.

he leans closer to whisper in your ear,“that creep right there kept staring you up and down,” pointing with a discreet move of his eyes as he drills holes through his stern gaze fixed on the said guy. you on the other hand, grow hot with irritation, perhaps just as hot and bothered you are feeling jake pressed so close. an abrupt and sharp impulse of anger.

“i’ll show him the fuck he was staring at," you mutter out, teeth gritted, and hands almost forming into fists, expression as innocent as always. jake seems to catch on to what you’re about to do and before you can get up from lap, his hold on you gets tighter,"okay, i know you hate this candy, but i don’t want you getting hurt in any way, if he does anything i’ll make sure to set him right, for now i think he got it that he’s not gonna stare at you however he wants,” hand grabing yours in gentle caresses along the expanse of your arm. delicate and slow like a soothing rub. his touch just as enticing and stimulating it is, is also calming, knowing exactly how to pacify your hot headedness. jake finds that really hot about you, the way you look like you couldn't harm a bug but he's seen you throw kicks and punches (for the right reasons) ‘looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you’ he never knew that's his type. sometimes and really only some rare times he wonders if you're not as innocent as he thinks you are, getting rock hard at the thought of it, dick twitching multiple times imagining you saying and doing things that an angel like you shouldn't be.

for the rest of the ride he manages to lull you back to your sweet candy mode, making you laugh at his lame pick up lines, and occasionally tickling your sides. head falling back into his shoulder in cute giggles and hips rolling on him, damn only he knows how bad he's holding back. as shameless as he is he'd probably jump your bones right infront of everyone to see. thankfully you bring the decency in your relationship.

when your stop comes, he intertwines his fingers you as you walk out the compartment, just in case you decide to give the dude a slap before leaving.

“'m gonna flatten out all your abs today, you'll need to gym again,” jake chuckles, feeling you roll over his body like mei’s lint roller as he lays on your favorite fluffy kuromi rug typing away on his laptop an essay deadlined for tomorrow. the weight of your body on and off and the touch of your hot skin he feels funsies,“you do this all the time, candy and my abs have never left. how can i let them? knowing how much you love it,” reaching behind to hold you still on his back. you are glad he can't see the way your cheeks warm up at that, a bashful look on your face remembering all the times he's caught you ogling at his body.

“why are you sulking?” he asks when you don't respond with a whine like you usually do. aware that you behave this way either when you’re over the top bathing in happiness or dissatisfied with something.

“’m gonna gain weight now because of you, i’ll see all the snacks and sweets in the pantry and not be able to resist binge eating,” you lightly punch at the curve of his shoulders, dropping your head into the crook of his neck in a pout. jake turns around swiftly to hold you in a hug, wanting nothing more than to cheer you up,“i love your belly anyhow, whether it’s visible or not,” giving the plump flesh of your stomach a zephyr-like pinch. you wince playfully drawing back inches to tease him only to drop down into his arms to hug him back seconds later,“yeah whatever,” his words make you feel butterflies, a turmoil of frenzy and fuzzy feelings, cheeks growing warm once again, and the warmth spreading all over your mind this time. why does he have to be so sweet to you?

you both stay like that for a while breathing slowly, and taking in the comfort of a hug, the room saturated with a restful and serene silence. you’re the first to pull away,“you should finish that essay, i have to prepare for my test next week,” jake groans at the loss of your touch, wailing out with his hands as you leave the room.

”i’m joining you as soon as i finish this!”

four days later on the weekend, you sit on the couch alone, wrapped in the thin lilac charmeuse blanket jake got for you (he said it the softness of it, reminded him of you.) waiting for your him to join you. eight in the morning with ‘tangled’ running on the tv, it's not something jake would ever want to do, but he gives in because you like it; bonus sometimes when you get a little sleepy, he grabs the chance to cuddle you as close as he can, leaving a few fluttering kisses on your temple and cheeks. he's grateful you never say anything about it and just let him be.

“yunie, can you pass me the watermelon in the fridge? the one from yesterday,” you spare a quick glance towards jake as he walks out his room. his headset rests loosely around his neck, half naked, wearing only a pair of sweatpants and his black hair all dishevelled: looking even more messier due to the perm he got last week. “yeah sure,” the rasp in his voice as he mumbles out softly gives away the fact that he probably stayed up all night again.

taking the half a piece of watermelon out and grabbing a spoon, jake scoops out a small little portion. going up to your slouched figure on the couch, and extending it out for you to eat,“here you go, candy,” he does it quite often, infact he loves to feed you. seeing your cheeks full and your eyes sparkling makes him feel fond as much as it turns him on. picturing you the same way on your knees between his legs with his dick stuffed in your mouth. choking and gagging on him, tears dropping down your pretty eyes while you stare up at him with this same doe look. it'd be heaven. even more so if he would have to teach you how to do it right, further fueling the massive corruption kink he seems to have harboured after meeting you.

he passes you melon after you take the bite, sitting beside you with his legs crossed. eyes trained on the way you fill in more in your mouth than you can handle, face all round and full,”eat slowly,” he flicks at your forehead.

“do you want to go buy a new sofa at ikea tomorrow? this one’s pretty small,” he adds a minute later, raising his brows subtly.

“well, first of all i didn’t plan to have a roommate and secon- i swear if it’s for your hook-ups i’m kicking you out!” it comes out in a yell, voice raising with every syllable before you spit a seed at him. one that due to your bad aiming skills instead of landing on his face, falls and sticks to the skin of his chest. damn those muscles they get you feelings things you probably shouldn't be.

putting away the watermelon on your tea table, you pick up mei and settle her on your lap, pulling back your blanket which had slipped off in a crackle of laughter,“this is public space have some decency before you have such thoughts!”

“stop making me appear like a horndog!” he laughs along, whinning at your false accusations in giggles and a look of faux disbelief.

“well that is exactly what you are!” you throw the closest cushion at his face. grinning with your signature cutesy doe eyes and jake is a goner. he always is.

“no don't do this me,”

“change the sheets then, it's your turn this week,” turning away from him, you fix your eyes on rapunzel climbing down the tower. trying to avoid the way he stares at you with betrayal, immediately scooting over to tickle you.

“you cheeky liar it's your turn,” his hands glossing over your ticklish areas.

“i love you,” in a fit of uncontrolled giggles, you shout. pushing against him to escape only to have your wrists pulled away, held together in a tight grasp and pinned above your head. “candy! i love you is not gonna get you out of chores come on i'll help you. we'll watch tangled later. together, i promise,” his laughter dies down with every word he utters, whispering out the last part as he becomes aware of the proximity between you two. so close you both think, breaths slowing down and heartbeats picking up the pace with each passing second.

“we're doing this okay?” jake whispers again, albeit, his tone a tad bit more heavy and bothered. an ambiguous daze clouding over, as if he is talking about something entirely different than just changing sheets. a twinge of lust bubbling inside. having you under him like this makes him realize just how desperately he wants you, and how bad his strength kink blooms for you. to have you whimpering and moaning, gaze all hazy as you let him do whatever he wants with you. damn he feels his dick twitch at that, gulping nervously hoping you wouldn't notice.

“you look like eugene,” you mumble out suddenly and jake feels his thirst rise off the roof, because the size difference between the characters? he wouldn't deny he thought of you the first time he saw the animation. wanting you have you in his arms the same way.

“then you must be my rapunzel,” you feel even more flustered if that's possible, your stomach twisting and twirling at his words until,”now come on we gotta keep the house clean for mother gothel,” jake let's his grip on you loosen, taking a moment to get off you.

“yunie!”

“i'll make you some sweet soy-glazed potatoes too later,” he voice drowns out as he enters you bedroom first.

“well i guess it's okay then,” you giggle following after him.

“candy that's not how you tuck in the corners,” jake scolds you for nth time, running after you to fix the edges you mess up deliberately time and again. “hey! candy! get down!” you make it a chaos for him, jumping onto the unmade bed and messing up the sheets all the way.

“oops,” there's a devilish grin on your face as jake pauses to watch you have your sugar rush episode.

“if you wanna wrestle again and end up under me, just say so,” he teases, inching closer and grabbing you by the waist. you both laugh again as if you weren't dripping with need for each other just moments ago. he picks you up and walks to the door putting you down by the sill,”i seriously need to get this done, you go and peel the potatoes for me,” you can't cook for the sake of god and letting you use knives is like a deathwish, jake can only hope peeling will keep you busy and safe enough to not end up with cuts anywhere.

the doorbell rings just as you step into the kitchen, walking back to the front in a sluggish sigh. feeling utter regret for answering the door, the instant you notice the figure outside. not wanting to reveal the presence to jake, you shut the door behind.

he peeps out your room at the sound of it, shrugging it off as nothing because you’ve done it lot many times: when your friends show up because you simply don’t want them to fall under his radar as prey.

you spare an indifferent glance at the way eunsang stands tall; hands folded with a cocky look on her rather gorgeous face. she's a beauty and you hate to admit that, a vibe so opposite of you it makes you insecure considering jake's hooked up with her more than a few times. “i’m here to see jake,” she states, tilting her head to point over at the closed door, all the sugary honeyed act she keeps up around him nowhere to be seen.

“and he doesn’t want to see you, didn’t he tell you it was the last time,” you counterattack, folding your arms and straightening up to look intimidating. your stare is one of taunt, carrying a gaze of boredom in hopes to establish that you're one to reckon with.

“are you jake? i said i want to talk to jake not you,” her heels click in impatience and underlying disgust in the tone she uses with you gets on your nerves.

you close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the annoyance in you before it turns into anger, tongue poking at the side of your cheek, “and are you deaf? i said he does not want to talk to you,” assert dominance, assert dominance you repeat over and over in your head.

but what she says next makes you lose your temper.

jake, the very epicenter of it all, on the other hand has no idea of what's going on outside until there's a scream that sounds too much like you, one turning into many more. it's frantic and inhumane, the speed at which he runs out. dropping everything and anything. there in broad daylight he finds you and eunsang trying to rip each other's hair out in the thankfully empty hallway. he doesn't know if he should be worried more about your scalp hurting or your throat tearing from how loudly you scream over eunsang. his hands flail as he contemplates on breaking the fight or letting you calm down, which you probably won't as he knows. he grabs onto eunsang's hands on your head trying to loosen her grip on your hair, concerned over the pain you must be feeling while you're there now trying to kick her between her legs. she's shocked to say the least, watching him latch you off her in a swift motion and throw you over his shoulder. he takes you back inside quickly, groaning at your fists pounding against his back in a protest,”fucking let go of me! i’m gonna give her a good piece of my mind!”

“candy language!” putting you down by the kitchen softly, he grasps the side of your arms and forces you to look into his eyes,“stop fighting all the time, stay here i’ll talk to her, okay?” he speaks slowly as an attempt to calm you. when you wiggle off in a scornful shrug, he asks again, this time moving to cup your face, a tender look in his eyes,“okay?” you nod in a defeated sigh and he's out the door before you can say anything else. you're upset, really upset, you know what you did outside was not decent yet you can't get over the fact that he left you in here to go back to talk to her. he was on your tail last week trying to beg you to help him get rid of her and even shooed her out the unit harshly, what more is there to talk about?

truth to be told, this was how he first met you, or should he say saw you. it was the move in day, he had all the necessities for the week packed in a travel suitcase, with the other stuff to be brought in later on. he was waiting for the elevator in the lobby, more tense and anxious than ever to meet the girl he was going to be living with a good four years of his college life. hoping she'd not treat him like some stranger, or be someone impossible to get close to hash live with. along with little bits of curiosity and hopes again, that she'd be a pretty and sweet girl maybe someone help could form some kind of benefits with.

however never in a million years did he ever expect it to be the cute yet fierce girl in the elevator. to say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement, he was literally blown off his feet, scared or impressed, his confusion was massive. when the doors of the elevator had opened he had found you slapping a middle aged man,”fun? you think groping my butt ‘s fun, you sicko,” kicking him in the balls next. hard. jake had gulped at that, hard. heart on a pause. the look of feigned innocence on your face as you did all that. damn jake swears it was that moment he fell. maybe not romantically but you definitely got his dick hard.

you looked super cute, and you knew how to fight, jake thought he hit the jackpot when you turned out to be his roommate. pretty you were, definitely, and sweet wasn't even a question; you were sweet to him and you are a lot of sweet. the only thing that remains a mystery till now is if you'd taste as sweet. jake hopes he can find that out.

he returns a few minutes later, lips pursed in a small smile as he shuts the front door. it grows even wider when his eyes find you,“so your soy glazed potatoes,” he chuckles walking over to the kitchen and getting other things out.

“she called me a slut for living with a guy like you and i was in the midst of giving her a lecture on actually how good of a person you are-” you bang on the counter with a thud and turn around to face him,“and you dragged me in!” whinning in a pout that looked as upset as your furrowed brows.

jake glances over in amusement, halting to give you another grin as he boops your nose gently,“my darling candy, i’m only good to you,” the glare you throw his way only makes him snicker with adoration. the little flicker of bashfulness you feel making you break out in a smile which (thankfully, for you) jake doesn't notice.

“whatever, i’m gonna take a long shower. do not disturb me!” you leave in a rush afraid if you stay too long he'd see it all on your face.

ten minutes later, as you tiptoe to get your favorite shower gel from the shelf above the mirror, luck decides to remind you why you shouldn't ever stay away from jake sim. feet slipping on the wet floor, body colliding against the cold tiles in a thud loud enough to have jake come running.

“candy, you're okay? what happened? should i open the door? ‘m coming in,” his voice is laced with worry, snapping open the door to find you laying flat down, though to his relief not unconscious. he picks you carefully, bringing you to your room and seating you on the edge of the bed to check for any injuries. hands delicately caressing all over and asking if it hurts any where,”you're so clumsy, always getting me worried like shit,”

“language,” you giggle, trying to make him laugh and it works.

“sorry, just please be careful, okay?” his fingers brush back your hair as you give him a small nod,“do you feel pain anywhere?” another nod, and this one ticks his alarms.

“where!” your fingers reach out to press against the brooding crease between his brows, attempting to remove the frown from his face. and jake melts at that, feeling his heart flutter at your cuteness, god he loves this side of you so much.

“you little demon, look what happens if you don't shower with me,” laughing out together, oh how he wishes it were like this forever. and jake sim has never thought of a forever ever before.

a month passes by in the blink of an eye, your routines and relationship staying the same as always, classes, his soccer practice and your weekly cleaning day. but what seems to have changed is his routine of bringing over girls, the number alarmingly cutting down day by day (which currently sits at zero) and what you haven’t noticed- his display of affection towards you growing more and more. yet you think nothing special of it, assuming that perhaps now he got a grip over himself. which is partially true. jake thought of you as deserving someone better, so it was only right that he became better. and what better way than to start with quitting the position of campus’ resident fuckboy.

after an all nighter the previous day, coming back from your classes you get straight to bed. changing you clothes and getting tucked under the blanket from around eight in the evening. jake returns from his soccer practice later, unaware of the fact that you're already passed out. opening your door to let you know of his night out plans,“candy, i’m gonna go out with jay and sunghoon! make sure to have your dinne- oh you were sleeping? i didn’t know i’m so sorry candy,” he mumbles out in a soft whisper towards the end, supressing a smile watching your sleepy figure under the covers. trying to rub out the drowsiness from your eyes; heavy blinking and a small pout, his cute girl.

“it’s okay no need to get up, go back to sleep, i’ll be back in the morning,” approaching the bed as you lay back down, he pats your head in a 'sleep well’ before leaving.

it's probably past midnight when you wake up to constant ringing of calls. fumbling around for your phone in a daze only to find a dozen calls from an unknown number and a bunch of texts from the same. it's jay, asking you to get jake from the bar they're at. saying the guy's refusing to go back with anyone that's not you: whining for your presence and making it hard for his two friends.

'where is my candy?’ jay and sunghoon are sick and tired of hearing it all night.

by the time you get him back to the apartment, it's three and your bones hurt from the weight of his body leaning all over you. it doesn't help that all he does is giggle and throw himself over you. there's been a lot of times you have seen him drunk, probably more than a dozen, but he's never looked as wasted as today. sunghoon told you it's because he drank way more than usual, and unbeknownst to you that you are the sole reason, you wonder of the things that plague his mind to the extent of drinking so much.

dragging him into his room you have him sit on his bed, going through his closet and getting him a pair of sweatpants and the first shirt you can grab. “come on yunie, get changed,” you hand him the clothes, turning away when he takes everything off nonchalantly. even though he likely would rather want you to look, from the many times he's said it before ‘why’re you looking away, candy it's all for you,’ his exact words. the bane of your existence.

after he's changed, you wipe the sweat off his body with a wet towel as much as you can. giving him a glass of water before leaving for your room when he grabs your wrist and stops you with his puppy eyes.

in the morning, around noon jake is the first one to wake up and having no memory of the previous night besides the fact that he was drunk. he sits at his desk chair, hands in his hair, watching you sleep on the other side of his bed, clad in his shirt. it’s like he feels everything is over and done from here. he did what he swore never to do, this was the very first thing he pinned on his mind as an important note: not using you even if he has very obvious feelings for you. he tugs on his hair in frustration, angry at himself for not staying in his lane when drunk. with his head hung in guilt, he doesn't notice you stirring awake, sitting up at the sight of his hunched figure.

“yun? are you okay? is the hangover severe? should i make you something for it?” startled at your soft voice, he flinches visibly. a thousand scenarios running through his mind and not one ends up good.

“you don’t even know any hangover recipes,” jake mumbles almost inaudibly.

“i can just search on the internet and try my best, it’s not like i’ll give you anything inedible,” you teaee, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere you feel in the air.

it takes him a moment to speak again, sounding as miserable as he has never before,“candy i’m,” he halts, gulping to hold back the lump in his throat,“i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to, i don’t why i, it's all my fault,” he stops again, leaving you confused and dumbfounded,“what are you saying? what apology?” it is when his eyes shift to stare at what you’re clad in, staying there for a hard minute when you get a rough idea of what he could be thinking of. your cheeks grow hot at the realization, shaking your head when unholy images pop up in your subconscious.

but the butterflies fly away just as fast as they came as his words dawn uppn you. even if it didn’t happen the fact that he wouldn’t mean it, want it, regret it has something in you twisting in pain, are you so bad? or that he actually really thinks of you as his little sister? that you read his affections wrong, assumed his feelings differently? your heart breaks more than a little at that.

“why? is it because i’m not like the others you have been with? because i’m not like eunsang? or because i’m not her? the one you were smiling so hard after talking to? are you dating he-”

“that’s the problem! you’re not like her! you’re not like anyone i've known before! you’re special and i’m afraid i’ll lose you, things will change and just i’ll have to get over you without even getting a chance,” it's the first time he's ever raised his voice at you, and the first time ever he's sounded so desperate, weak and dejected. so vulnerable.

the split moment of sadness dissipates with every word that sinks in. the revelation of a(n after)drunk confession. the fact that you're a different kind of special to him, that he would want a chance to be with you, that he's afraid to lose you. you supres the urge to laugh when it all settles into your understanding. having a better grasp over the bigger picture. your steps are slow and calculated as you walk over to him, sitting across his lap and cupping his cheeks in a fleeting breath of courage. his eyes almost bulge out when you brush your lips lightly against his, mumbling softly,“nothing happened, but if you still want i can give you a chance, it’s going to be hard though tolerating me, think wisely,” you giggle and jake malfunctions for an instant before grabbing you in a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“of course, of course i do want it, i’ve always wanted it,” chanting out in a trance.

“your lips tasted like watermelon,” he mutters out some time after, eyes locking with yours in an intense pull. still in a daze that out of all the bad things that could've happened it was none. literally none plus you perhaps wanting him just as much as he wants you.

“i had some in the morning before you woke up, anyhow yours taste like alcohol and your breath is horrible, go and freshen up,” you push at his shoulder, getting off him to leave the room to cook something. probably (as you said) a recipe searched up on the web, hopefully edible enough for a hungover person.

when he comes out later, all showered and back to the jake you know: the one who likes his hair slightly messy and almost never in a shirt. “why were- are you wearing my shirt then?”

“you practically begged me to last night while sobbing for i don’t know what reason,” he's a bit flustered at that, but hey, it's what got him here, you gotta do what you gotta do.

“candy, you wanna go out tonight? jay and sunghoon wanted to hang out but i don't wanna leave you so i said i’d bring you along,” jake asks, knocking at your door.

it takes you a little over a minute to open up but jake's does not mind it at all for obvious reasons, his jaw comically falling to the floor when you walk out in your tiny little blue sundress and the shade of lipgloss he was dying to see you in. you're unreal.

“yes! i heard you on call earlier,”

“oh my god candy, gimme a princess twirl,” the amount of desire he feels for you right now is unfathomable. biting his lips at the sight of your lace panties underneath that faintly flash him in the mini twirl you do. can you get any hotter?

“just fifteen minutes and i'll be ready,” he got ten minutes to do something about the boner he just popped, and it's more than enough to have him rub one out with what he just saw. maybe add a little hint of imagination and wondering what you'd sound like if he were to touch you down there. especially given the fact that the likelihood of it happening were through the roof now. you almost kissed last week, anything could happen at this point. and jake's dick gets impossibly sensitive at the odds of it.

at the restaurant, jay and sunghoon sit in an awkward silence, watching you both be all over each other. when they agreed for jake to bring his girl along, they didn't expect it to be so bad.

“um jake talks a lot about you,” sunghoon says trying to start a conversation that he knows probably wouldn't go anywhere.

“he does? that's so sweet,” you smile, giggling over something jake whispers in your ear, his hand palming over the plush of your exposed thighs,”what do you wanna eat?” sunghoon nerves feel boiled at the way jake completely skips over his attempt to talk to you. while jay sips at wine, agonizingly slow knowing this is how it's gonna be from now on. their friend is a changed man.

“i have this picture of jake from middle school, you'd love to see it i promise,” a little tipsy, sunghoon's persistence to put himself in the equation albeit admirable, annoys the fuck out of jake, scowling at the other well of aware of the so called picture he wants to share.

“jay man, take care of him. candy and i are going home,” jake gives them a tight lipped smile, holding your rather drunk self (it's just wine you had said)

“see you later ca- y/n,” at first jay leans in for a friendly hug but— nevermind. the way jake stares at him is scarily weird.

jake makes sure to have you sit on the couch before he leaves to get you water but you're sprawled out on the floor when he comes back. mumbling something about how cool the tiles feel against your skin,”come on you should drink some water,” jake pulls you up on your ass, sitting cross legged on the floor beside you. his hand softly holds the back of your head as he brings the glass to your mouth.

“alright say, what did you wanna say?”

“i wanna kiss you,” if jake thinks the pout on your lips is the cutest thing ever then the words you say must have to be the hottest thing ever. how can a simple word like kiss make his heart flutter so bad? and it's not even lust at this point.

he fulfils your wish without a thought, leaning in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. sucking on your bottom lip a second long before he pulls away and boops your nose. no tongue and no other intentions. the after taste of your gloss lingering in his mouth.

“let me tell you a secret,” you whisper out, moving over to his lap, knees on the floor each side.

“i knew you stole my kuromi panties,” he's shocked you know about it, he made sure to be extra careful with it, though his nasty ass was internally hoping you'd catch him.

“mhm, i do have it with me but it's not really wearable now,” he did not see this becoming something sexual but the moment you brought up the panties, you might as well have brought up his dick. man practically re-lived every single time he used it to jerk off, all those orgasms coming to life at once.

“you need to punished!” you whine,

“what do you wanna do?” and jake feels his dick get harder at that.

“can we kiss again?” oh my god, you make him feel so fuzzy and horny at the same time, it's unbelievable. in the guide of jake sim: to make him horny is relatively easy, to get him all fuzzy is once in a lifetime and to get him both at the same time is impossible. yet you do it so effortlessly.

jake answers you with his lips against yours again, relishing in the feeling of them on his own. all those times he wondered of how it'd feel like to kiss you seemed so lame now that he actually did. no imagination could ever come close to way he feels right now. his hand comes up to cup the side of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls away for a moment,”i wanna love you so much and take you on cute little dates and buy you all the food you want and fuck you so hard you only remember my name,”he mumbles against your lips in a bit whisper, letting you take a breath before he dives right back in. this time he lets his tongue slide in, rubbing against your own for a short while only to pull back and go for another trying to keep your lips pressed together for as long as he could. finally pulling away when he feels you push against him a little too roughly, a crawl of shudders all over his skin at the roll of your hips against his bulge.

“wan’ you to fuck me too,” you whine, this time desperately.

“fuck candy, you're drunk we shouldn't be doing this,” he reminds, failing miserably to hold himself back. his hands keep twitching to just grab your hips and grind you down on his dick until you're both cumming together.

“i’m not, i swear. i just drank a little because i couldn't have done this all sober,” even through the layers of clothes, jake can feel your neediness dropping with the way you roll your hips harder against him. speeding up when you think he's pushing you away, but he's just grabbing you closer by the waist. he can't deny how wanted he feels right now, feeling like he'd explode any second. the fuck were you so horny for him?

“are you sure this is okay?” he asks again. no matter how bad he's dying to fuck you, he'll never do it if you don't to.

“‘s okay, please yunie,” you feel his hands slide along your thighs and in between your legs. fingers faintly brushing over the wet patch on your panties in a sharp inhale. he grazes two fingers against your clit, testing the waters. rubbing harder when he feels your breathing pick up it's pace, switching to spank your clit impossibly fast having lost control at the sound of your wanton whimpers.

“don’t move and take it baby,” jake growls, pushing you flush against his chest, making your back arch more and more into him. tits bouncing right up in his face as he bends down to nibble as the exposed skin between them.

he stops for a moment only to push your panties to the side and touch you raw. rubbing rougher and so intense, your legs feel number from pleasure,”has anyone touched you like before?” his jaw clenches hard, eyes dark with want as they remain fixated at the sight of his hands on your pussy. fuck he finally knows what touching you feels like.

“ngh— no, fuck!” and it boosts jake's ego through the roof, he doesn't think he's ever felt as horny as he feels right now. the thought of being the first to touch you in your princess parts, the first you have seen you putty like this, the first to be the one to get you like this. fuck, fuck, fuck! he feels so turned on it's literally inhumane. precum oozing out his tip with every twitch of his dick.

“mm, gonna put my fingers in you,” you feel one of jake's fingers press into you, sliding inside easily with how dripping wet you are. the pornographic moan you let out when he slowly slips in another and curves up has his dick twitch so damn hard he thinks he just came untouched. you sound so cute yet so fucking hot, his mind is in a spiral of everything he wants to do to have you moan like that again and again until you're so drunk on pleasure, you only want him all the time.

“shit you're so tight and warm, can't imagine how good you'd feel around my cock,” his eyes keenly hooked on the way you raise your hips to meet the thrusts halfway,”y-yun, ‘s feels too g-good ah,”

“fuck you're so hot and so perfect for me,” his words travel straight to your core having you clench tight around his fingers and all of a sudden you find your oragasm hitting you as violently as jake continues to run you through it, fast and painfully pleasurable. enamoured and obsessed with the way your doe eyes struggle to stay open, mouth parting in a loud whine, back arching and hips shooting up. god you're a piece of art and jake doesn't think he's ever gonna want anyone other than you.

he immediately stands up with you in his arms, walking over to the kitchen counter and placing you gently on the cold marble. his fingers run through your hair in a soft caress, tucking in the messy strands behind your ears,”you sure you want this? we can stop here if you want. just say the word and i’ll stop,”

“wan’ yun to be my first,” you whimper wearily, jake feels his heart skip a couple of beats. your first, he wants to be your last too and you to be his last.

”gonna make you cum so much harder on my cock,” he places his hands on your thighs in a tight grip and forces them apart fervently. he so damn wants to eat you out but he also wants to feel you cum around his cock, it's a hard choice to make but his cock feels so angry and heavy slick from all the precum he shot out each time you whimpered or moaned or whined, if he'd wait to get his dick wet he'd probably actually come untouched from your sounds and reactions alone. and only god knows(jay too oops) how bad jake sim wants the first time he cums with you to be deep inside you. so much so that he might develop a kink of getting you knocked up (nope you're too young for that!)

he takes his pants off in a snap, practically ripping his boxers along with it, grabbing his rock hard dick, throbbing and red at the tip and trusting into his fist a couple of times. breathing heavy at the way you watch him with your lips between your teeth. he wonders how good it'd feel to watch you touch yourself while he does the same, cumming together with your eyes locked. but he probably doesn't have that kind of self control to just watch you touch yourself, when he can do it himself?

he taps his tip against your clit for a hot minute sliding it along your folds in a strained groan. you're so embarrassing wet, it's like jake could shove himself inside immediately and your you'd hardly feel pain for a while. however, holding back his desires, he pushes into you slowly, holding your body close and stroking your back soothingly,”let me know when i can move,” a tender kiss at your forehead, trying to make sure you know you have the say it in.

jake groans as you give him the go seconds later,”mhmmm candy⁠— baby,” moaning soft and lustful as he pulls out till the tip and thrusts all the way in. your insides feel so warm and gummy, walls clenching around him crazy tight. he thinks he'll lose his mind and end up cumming embarrassingly fast like a teen getting pussy for the first time. the way he feels the pleasure throb in his veins so intense all over his body, it's almost numbing.

your hands loop around his neck, fingers scratching at his back as he pounds into you rough, his pace hard and fast pushing all his body weight against you.

“don't think i can ever get enough of you,”

the sight of the thin straps of your dress slipped to the sides, tits almost spilling out of the front gets jake going, fueling him to grab at you anywhere and everywhere his hands can possibly go,”tell me im dreaming fuckkk— i've wanted you for so long, can't count the number of times i've jerked off to the thought of having you like this, so pretty and dumb under me,” all those evenings when you roamed around the unit in the shortest shorts and the smallest crops, driving him mad shit insane, having to sneak off into the bathroom multiple times. fisting his cock hard, groaning and biting back his moans as he got off to the thought of you, while you sat all unaware and innocent on the other side of the wall.

he stops abruptly, pulling out in a frenzy and turning you around on your heels and pushing you by the back of your neck to lay against the cool granite. one hand going down to grab at your thigh and hook it up on the counter, drooling at the way your pussy glistens from the angle. he shoves his dick back in without a warning, feeling your ass collide against him harsh yet fervid.

you both pant in rasps when his cock hits a sensitive spot inside you. he shifts to angle himself just right to repeatedly brush against that spot and you mewl out loud at that, so loud your neighbours probably know what you're up to.

“fuck i can't stand not seeing your cute face,” jake bends over to grab you by your throat, pulling you up and flush against him, head resting back at his shoulders as he forces to look at him, fingers gripping your jaw softly,”eyes on me, okay baby?” grunting from deep within his chest, a wild grin on his face as he watches you get lost in ecstasy,”i’ll get you addicted to my cock,” just like how addicted he already is with your pussy and everything about you.

his other hand reaches up to tug the front of your dress down, groping up one of your tits, a silk touch to see your reaction. loving the way it's so obvious how sensitive you are there. mouth parting open with you in sensuous gasps as he twists your nipple harshly, rubbing the tip with his thumb. your walls clench a little too hard and your back arches off as you push your hips back into him, the tell tale signs of you getting close,”my baby's gonna cum for me?”

holding your jaw to have your eyes trained on him, he unexpectedly inserts his thumb in your mouth pressing against your wet tongue, your red swollen lips too tempting to resist,“fuck yes, show me how pretty you cum,” you mumble out a series of incoherent words in hazy chant.

the hand on your breast slips down to your lower abdomen pressing rashly against his bulge, feeling faint movement of his cock deep inside you. fuck you're so small and delicate. his hold on you tightening as his calloused fingers find your neglected bud, rolling it in quick, tight circles. it's so painful yet you feel so good, tears wailing down your cheeks as your orgasm crashes hard, overwhelming and violent, thighs trembling and pussy clenching uncontrollably. jake's continues to rub your clit, helping you ride out your high. eyes fluttering shut, and swallowing thickly at the sensation of you creaking over his sensitive length, cock throbbing impossibly hard.

jake refuses to stop even after you have come down,”one more candy, i know you can do one more for me,” hips hammering into you at full force, and lips finding yours in ragged breaths. and it dawns on you what exactly you have gotten yourself into when you feel the two of his fingers protruding at your entrance, trying to push in beside his cock,“if you try to close your legs i'm gonna punish you,” he warns making you whine into his mouth.

in a flash he turns your body to face his, quickly shoving his cock and fingers back into you. his other hand spanking the skin of your ass and kneading it a soft caress after. he eyes hypnotized at the view of you taking him in, a white ring of your cum adorning the base of his cock. he spits at your clit, once again toying with the engorged bud, pinching and flicking,”“gonna make you cum until you pass out, fuck i really wanna do that⁠—” your hand darts out to grip at jake's wrist, feeling too overwhelmed with hypersensitivity. wanting to shy away but the pleasure’s so good you can't bring yourself to push him away.

“but it's your first time,” jake mumbles between hoarse grunts.

before you can even realize it yourself your third orgasm courses through you vehemently. body jerking and twitching, almost falling over if not for jake's hold. jets of cum gushing out as you moan loud.

feeling you spill down his cock, all warm and tight, his brutal rhythm falters,”fuck- ‘m gonna cum,” eyes locking with yours as he thrusts once, twice and then stills, burying himself deep, streams of cum shooting out. hot spurt after spurt, swollen cock twitching against your walls. goosebumps all over, his legs quiver from how hard he came.

he stays quiet and motionless for a while, his arms wrapped around your shaking body. breathing in the scent of your shampoo, trying to calm his pounding heart and cock.

“you good candy? i’m sorry, i think i went a little rough on you,” you nuzzle into him in quiet,’its okay’ as he strokes your head, leaving fluttering kisses over your face. picking you up by the thighs he brings you to your bed, laying you down and gently pulling out. groaning at the way all your mixed cum oozes out, pretty little hole clenching around nothing.

exhausted, you let your mind drift, feeling the drowsiness kick in while jake bends between your legs with a wet towel. whining wearily, when his lips wrap around your nub in a suck, the wet sensation of his tongue against your clit like a shot of electricity,”sorry, baby just had to do that once,” he knew he didn't just call you candy for nothing and he was right. grining sheepishly as he wipes the rest of the cum off, cleaning you all up.

“you're nasty,” you manage to whisper out.

“only for you,” the touch of his body is hot and comforting, arms around your waist cuddling closely(and half naked).

“let's shower together in the morning, wanna eat you out so-”

“jake!”

“what? it's the truth!”

the following around four in the afternoon before jake has to leave for his soccer practice, you approach him on the couch, as always re-watching an episode of vincenzo. you haven't talked much about labels, but it's known to everyone that you're sorta together. more like jake is taken by you. his friends weren't too surprised to know about you both, it was obvious jake had the hots for you and from the little hangout at the restaurant they figured it all worked out for him.

“incoming, pocky!” you sit beside him with a banana flavored pocky stick between your teeth, leaning in teasingly.

“oh you want me so bad,” he plays along inch closer and biting it off in a snap, lips barely brushing against yours.

pulling you onto his lap with your back pressed into his chest, he locks you in place, chuckling at the way you attempt to escape. his fingers twirling the ends of your hair as you surrender in seconds, switching to watching the show absent-mindedly,”my parents wanted to meet you,” he drops the bomb, tracing random letters on your skin to distract of the fact that he just mention a meeting with parents.

“as my roommate, actually,” quickly adding the important point, fingers poking at your cheeks like jello.

“so suddenly though?” you think back on all the things you have ever done to him, for them to want to see you. perhaps they think of you as a snobby girl who’s indulging their son’s already unpleasant habits.

“they’ve actually been wanting to meet you for the past three months, i was putting it off but now summer break is starting next week and i have no more excuses to give,” hugging you, he rests his head on the curve of your neck, breathing in the smell of watermelon that surrounds you after you had basically devoured a whole at lunch. “if you don’t want to then you don’t have to, i’ll talk to them,” he assures, not wanting you to feel obligated to agree, or force yourself despite being uncomfortable.

“no it’s okay, we can go meet them. how long will the drive be?” fumbling with his red knuckles, your mind wanders off to when he fingered you, growing hot and embarrassed all of a sudden. hardly listening in on his answers.

when jake leaves for his soccer practice, you find time to complete the trivial chores around the house. watering the plants with a pout, missing jake more than ever. you have completely different majors and you are not in any clubs either to stay after classes. the only time you spend together being the one at the apartment which is also cut down by his frequent practice sessions, sometimes in the morning during weekends and normally most evenings on weekdays. it makes you ponder on whether you should try out for any club, after all these years doing something else besides studying. but you have no idea what you should consider, having no knowledge on which clubs you could be eligible to join.

it takes you two whole weeks and a bunch of outfit checks to find yourself on your way to meet jake's parents. feeling almost weird and exhilarating at how his parents and his older brother welcome you. treating you so well even though they recognize you as nothing more than just his college apartment roommate who helps fix his laptop and tolerates the boy knowing the kind of womanizer he is. appearing more as a meeting with in-laws when you jake and you are not even official yet, more so they have no idea of what's going between you two.

they try their best to make you feel at home. during the lunch as jake had told them beforehand, his mother had a few sweet dishes prepared for you, coddling you just as jake does back at your unit. they talk to you about casual things including your likes and dislikes, what major you are in, whether jake treats you well, if you have any complaints regarding his behavior. it doesn’t feel as awkward as you as thought it would and you didn't have to put on any act as you prepared yourself to do.

in the beginning of your roommate journey, his accent, his voice was the first thing to attract you but slowly as you explored his personality you came to like him for more than just what attracted you to him. now you as you spend time with people closest to him, you understand where he got it all from. the sweet person he is, which you never expected a fuckboy to be, you didn’t even have an ounce of hope that he’ll acknowledge your presence in the apartment when you got to know about his playing around conduct. yet he turned out to be the sweetest boy you’ve ever come around in your life ( and the nastiest perhaps, )

when you are sitting alone with his brother, while jake is away downstairs to bring you something sugary to eat, his brother takes it as a chance to share his thoughts,“you know until i heard him call you candy a while ago, i was under the impression that 'candy’,” he quotes it specially with a movement of his fingers,“is supposedly a cheerleader fling of his after i saw the contact name showing up when he got a call the last time he was here,” giving you a sly look as he catches sight of jake approaching,“turns out it’s you, i never knew he is the type to give such sweet, unique petnames,”

before you leave in the evening, jake makes sure to let them know that you’re toegther, and that he’s not playing around this time. he’s willing to give effort into it and change his usual ways of living, to be better for himself and as well as for you.

on your way there you had thought of a lot things, had a lot of assumptions and expectations. even prepared yourself to hear things that’ll stick to you not so positively. but what stays in your mind now is completely unexpected and opposite of what you had internally composed yourself for. it’s all you can think of in the car and after you’re back in the comfort of your familiar apartment.

cheerleader, not a bad idea—

“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.

“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.

“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of you is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.

“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.

“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.

#( 🍉 ) 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫!#enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #JAKE IS NASTY IN THIS ONE...#k-labels #enhypen jake smut #jake smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen drabbles #enhypen au #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours

3K notes · View notes