#@juminweek2019

[elvendara]

Jumin Week 11 Oct '22

@juminweek2019

TW: Death

Agape: Selfless love/ Love for humanity

October 11th 2022

“How is he?” Jumin asked, his normally clear storm grey eyes red from crying.

“He doesn’t have long. You should say your goodbyes.” The doctor spoke gravely and left him alone with his father.

Jumin took his father’s hand and  held it tight. The man’s once as raven black as his own was snow white and thinning. When had that happened? He could clearly see the scalp through the strands. He had always seemed so vibrant and strong. The man whose arms had carried him, the man whose words had soothed him, the man whose love had been ever present. Jumin wasn’t ready to let his father go, but he could see, his wants did not matter in this instance. Death took everyone in the end.

He wept silently, unashamed about his emotions. His father trembled; age having taken his mobility as well. The man opened his heavily rheumatoid arthritic eyes and blinked, attempting to smile when they lit on his son. Jumin was aware that his father could barely see him, yet he recognized him just the same.

“My son.” His father’s voice was scratchy and low, his once booming voice a thing of the past. How his laughter had filled Jumin’s heart for years. No matter where his father traveled, who he married, what woman was currently on his arm, he never lost sight of his son and made time to strengthen that relationship, that bond. How he hated the constant revolving door of stepmothers. However, he could never find it within himself to hate his father for it. The man was lonely and simply wanted companionship, Unfortunately, he constantly chose wrong. Those women inevitably were proven to be nothing but gold diggers. The saddest part was that none of those women who professed to love his father could be bothered to come to his dying bedside. He was here alone.

“I’m here father. Don’t talk, rest. You need to sleep.” He could hear the quiver in his own voice. His father laughed, which ended in heavy coughing. Jumin took the glass of water on the table and held the straw to his father’s mouth so he could drink.

“I will get as much sleep as I will ever need shortly.” He said, patting his son’s hand. Jumin sighed but remained quiet, setting the glass back on the table. “Before I depart, I want you to know that you have been the love of my life and the biggest comfort to me. I know I have made mistakes, but you have always forgiven me and my decisions.”

“Father please.” Jumin’s tears fell heavier now but he didn’t bother to wipe them away, holding onto his father’s hands with his own.

“Let me say this…You have been my proudest achievement. You have grown up to be an incredible man, full of ambition but also compassion and empathy. I know my actions have made you cautious of love. True love. But listen to me my son, do not harden your heart. Do not marry for compromise. Find your love and hold on to it desperately. It is out there and you will find it. Do not be afraid. You are not like me, you are not ruled by loneliness. You know who you are and what you want. Trust yourself. Promise me, someday, I will have a daughter-in-law and grandchildren that will create a happy family for you.

“Father…” Jumin shook his head. What he said wasn’t wrong. He had long ago decided love would never be in the cards for him. Not when it was impossible to know if a woman loved him or his money and power. He saw what that had done to his father. He had contemplated exactly what his father said, a marriage of convenience where his heart would not be in jeopardy. True love? Was it even possible for him?

“Promise me! Trust yourself. You are not me; you are smarter and more intuitive. I want you to find happiness.” There were tears in his father’s eyes, and he spoke with firmness. The thought of losing him suddenly hit him hard. Happiness? He had always found his happiness when with his father. Once he was gone, who else could he feel so happy with?

“Don’t…don’t leave me…I’m not ready…” he broke and held his father, burying his face in the man’s now hollow chest. This was not the body of his robust father, this was a parody. Weak arms held him.

“Jumin, look at me, please.” He reluctantly did as asked and stared into his father’s weeping eyes.

“I have lived a long life. I wish the same for you, and when it is your time to go, I hope your own family feels as you do now. That they love you so much, they don’t want to let you go. But my son, it is time. Know that you have brought me joy beyond measure and I shall always be proud to be your father.

Jumin nodded, knowing what he said was true, but still trying to figure out a way to not make it so. To keep him in his life. But the older man was tired and ready to go, making such a scene was selfish on his part.

“Of course father. Thank you for all the years you have loved me, I have always felt it and it has made me happy. If it will make you happy, I will promise to look for love, for that special someone who I can share my life with. Not for you, but for me. You may let go now. I will be fine.”

His father sighed contented, a smile breaking across his face. He closed his eyes and with a last shuttering breath he stilled. The monitor attached to his heart flatlined and Jumin once more sobbed. His heart ached like never before. He couldn’t think in that moment, it was just an overwhelming dread and pain that washed over him. Something so solid and central to his very being had just left him.

After a few minutes nurses came into the room to detach the machines and cover him. Jumin sat and watched until the realization came to him that his father was no longer there. That this was just a body, and empty body. He stood and after one last squeeze of his father’s hand he walked out of the room.

As he walked into the waiting room, he saw the RFA standing there, all eyes wet, all eyes on him. Saeyoung, his normally boyish face full of pain for him, MC, his wife, stoic next to her husband. Saeran, Yoosung, Zen, and Jaehee. All with the same painful look on their faces, hurting because he was. He stepped towards them, tears wracking his body once more, he sobbed as he stumbled towards them but they caught him, they held him, they wept with him.

[xelasrecords]

Tea! Would You Like Some?

Han Jumin x Reader

Jumin Week 2023 - Day 3: Quality Time @juminweek2019

High-quality time shared between two people highly stupid about their feelings. And for each other.

My x reader comeback after so long! Had a meet cute recently so y'all get a lighthearted crushing stage fic for once :)

Words: 3.9k

Masterlist Read on AO3

How soon you could come had no correlation to Jumin's expectation of seeing you materialise in his living room. At least, that was what he told himself. His traitorous fingers told a different thing. They had typed out a message asking where you were, if there was any problem with your ride, if you had input the correct address in your map, and if he needed to send out a search party if you didn't reply in the next five minutes, but that, he felt, would be too drastic.

Jumin erased the last part and sent the text. He sighed, fingers drumming on the arm of his white sofa. Contrary to Zen's belief, he was not one to blow things out of proportion. He always did just enough and everything else was simply a precaution.

Perhaps a five-minute grace was not precaution enough. Four minutes. He could wait for four.

The second his doorbell rang, Jumin leapt to his feet. He never considered the distance from the living room to the entrance too far, but now he doubted the interior design of his penthouse. Large spaces allowed him to breathe—until you took it away just by not reneging on your promise to visit. You were someone he had only met a handful of times, always with the other members and never at his own place.

Today was special. Today he decided to ignore his fear of being left behind by his loved ones and let you in.

You could be someone he loved. You could be the one who stayed.

Jumin composed himself and opened the door, and there you were, standing with your hands deep in your pockets, waiting for him.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you. Despite being mussed by the wind, your hair fell beautifully around your face like a divine frame that accentuated your features. Your eyes were bright, your smile was wide, and you were wrapped in a coat that must be your favourite. He never saw you without it. He wished he knew more about your fashion sense so he could gift you clothes that you would like. He also wished he was close enough to see himself in your eyes' reflection, but that time would come later. Everything had its order, and patience was a virtue that had been drilled into him since childhood.

"I have been waiting for you," said Jumin, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice. "Did anything happen on your way here? You didn't reply to my text."

"I was rushing." Your smile turned apologetic. "Didn't check my phone, sorry."

Jumin stepped aside to let you in. The fact that your hand could have grazed his had you walked nearer to him did not escape his attention. "No matter. It's all right now that you're here."

Leading you to the white plush sofa where he had waited with perfect calmness, he felt tense and oddly exposed, like he was anticipating a foreboding that might come to pass. He did not feel like Han Jumin. This was an iteration of him that he had not been acquainted with.

"Did I make you wait too long?" you asked.

"No," Jumin said. "You didn't have to hurry. You were not yet late." He hoped the sofa would be good enough for you. He had asked his housekeeper to clean off every speck of dust he could detect, twice over.

You sat down and stared at him with a look that he couldn't discern. "I wanted to be early."

Jumin took a seat beside you, careful to maintain a respectful distance despite his heart's protest. "You possess an excellent sense of time management. We will get along well." Compliments flowed out of him easily when it came to you. If you let him, he would graciously point out your strengths one by one.

But was that disappointment on your face?—though it disappeared before he could probe further. "Yes, I love time and managing stuff." You sighed. "That's why I'm the assigned party coordinator."

Now that you were at the spot where he had cast secret spells to summon you, Jumin wasn't sure what to say. He was desperate to know if you shared his jitters. You were motionless, spine straight and hands clasped on your lap, studiously watching the black television screen. There was nothing save for the blurred reflection of both of you sitting in a similar position. He had been imagining all sorts of exciting conversations with you, but your presence had flung them out of his head. This had never happened before. An MRI scan was in order after you went home.

It was possible that you were growing bored, though your affable expression had not indicated so. But it might not mean anything, for you always seemed pleasant. You were very, very pleasant to look at. It was also possible that he was the only one with an insatiable curiosity towards you. For all he knew, you could be with a partner and merely accepted his invitation to hang out with him as a newly anointed member of the RFA. And you were a member. This was a friendly meet-up, nothing more.

"Tea," said Jumin suddenly. His voice echoed in the silence.

Startled, your head snapped to him. "What?"

"Everyone in my family learns to brew tea," Jumin explained. "The tea leaves in my pantry are directly imported from China, obtained from the only six three-hundred-year-old Wuyi trees in existence. The legend of this tea can be traced back to the age of emperors and dynasties, and it has become extraordinarily rare over time. It has the best quality in the world."

"How did you get it if it's so rare?" You were trying to hold a smile back, but it was not a mocking sneer. There was a certain fondness in it that made him want to let all his guard down and pull you into his arms.

"Auctions," Jumin simply said. "You ought to try it. It will keep you warm." Only then he noticed that you still had your coat on and was promptly filled with horror. "My apologies. I seem to have lost my manners." He outstretched his arm. "Leave your coat with me. It can't have been comfortable sitting in that."

"Shame." You handed it over. "I was planning to take a nap in this."

"Is that how people normally sleep? Or is it a tradition unique to you?" Jumin folded your coat into a perfect half over his forearm. "I'd appreciate it if you could teach me your ways."

"I was joking, Jumin. Should I teach you how to make one?" you said, in a tone so kind that he was taken aback. People tended to laugh at his face or look away politely when he failed to understand a joke.

"There is no need. I already have a handbook for it." Jumin was unable to keep smugness out of his voice. "It includes a list of one hundred jokes that you can make to both family and work colleagues alike. I have made good use of it when I need to break the ice."

"But does it include learning how to take one?"

"Unfortunately, I have yet to encounter a book for it."

You squeezed his shoulder, and the warmth of your touch penetrated all layers of his clothing that he had carefully planned. Navy blue suit, black tie, complete with a beige waistcoat and white striped shirt. Everything was new. "Don't worry," you said. "It just means the joke isn't funny to you. A good joke will make you laugh naturally."

"I see." Jumin fixed his tie. "I promise to laugh at your next joke."

"I said naturally. Honestly, Jumin. Please don't plan for it. You're going to give me performance anxiety."

"Then I look forward to your performance." He smirked, and you groaned. Something about you brought out the childlike side in him that he didn't know was still alive. "If you would wait here for a moment. I shall brew you a cup of tea. It won't be long."

Without waiting for your response, Jumin stood up, hung your coat on the silver coat rack by the hallway, and headed to the kitchen. Something was wrong with him. A smile kept threatening to break out of his face and there was a palpable beating in his throat when it should stay underneath his ribcage and he felt giddy about something. He was sure that this was abnormal. Was he finally living up to Zen's senseless claim that he was a strange creature? Jumin stowed these additional symptoms away for his next doctor's appointment. Forget MRI, he needed a full-body checkup.

Jumin heard a soft padding behind him as he turned on the kettle. Your footsteps were quiet, almost drowned by the gurgling of the boiling water and it reminded him of the elegance of Elizabeth the Third. He'd introduce you to her when she decided to make an appearance. The thought of the two of you getting along put a smile on his face.

"I thought you would've offered me wine before tea. Are you really Jumin?" you teased, peering from behind him. He was scooping oolong tea leaves into the strainer in a precise measurement when his muscles turned rigid. Your chin was nearly perched on his shoulder. He regretted that you didn't.

But Jumin dearly wished he knew either. He paused and looked over at you. Now he could see himself in your mischievous eyes. Now he saw how happy he was. The opportunity came sooner than he was prepared for. His breath hitched. "Would you like some wine instead?" he asked, keeping his gaze steady. "I have a wide variety you can choose from in the cellar."

"Tea is fine," you said. "I'll take anything you give me, really."

"Beware," Jumin said dryly. "You have not known me long. There could be poison in your drink."

It took a second for his joke to register, but when it did, you started to laugh. Jumin was stunned, then relaxed when he realised you were not under any pretences of politeness. He felt as if he got a high score for a competition he had unknowingly participated. He never used to put high importance on winning. As someone who consistently broke his own records, achievements were just another thing that his office and father would hold a customary celebration for.

But you were different. Your laughter was a prize he wanted to win all the time. He liked seeing you in joy, and liked that he was the source of it. It was a high that he never wanted to come down from.

"Did you copy that joke from your handbook?" you asked.

"I came up with it on the spot," said Jumin proudly, and your grin widened.

Your eyes flitted to the only china cup laid out on the marble countertop. "Aren't you making another for yourself?"

Jumin shook his head. "I'm not in the mood for tea."

You lifted a brow. "I am so surprised."

Jumin's forehead furrowed in genuine confusion. "Why would you be?"

You flailed your arms about. "Is tea not your passion?" you said. "You were fired up when you talked about it. That's all you've talked about. If I didn't know you better, I'd think it's your favourite drink in the world."

"I merely wanted to keep you warm, and a cup of tea was the fastest way to do it." Actually, Jumin thought being embraced by him would be faster, but he doubted you would accept his advanced advances. "You're the one who has been on my mind, not tea."

"Not tea," you repeated.

"It's nothing compared to you," Jumin affirmed.

"Oh." You pressed your palm against your cheek. "That's nice. You're nice." You gave a perfunctory sweep at his polished monochromatic penthouse, sparse but efficiently filled with the essential household items. "Your place is also nice."

But you were looking at everywhere but him, and that didn't feel as nice. "You might be the first person calling me nice besides V," Jumin said, deciding to focus on the positive. "And V is exempted as he is my closest friend. I'm not sure how to feel about this, to be honest. I'll have to think about it later."

"Take your time," you said, finally looking at him. "I'm not going anywhere."

Quietly, Jumin poured hot water into the teacup and stirred sugar into the steaming amber liquid, allowing the clinking of the teaspoon to fill the space he couldn't. For all his desire to have his interest in you reciprocated, he could not picture the reality if you did. He wouldn't know what to do with himself. He wanted to invite you into his mind, yet was frightened by the thought of you being repelled after knowing him.

"Careful, it's hot," Jumin warned as you lifted the teacup to your lips. "Tell me, how do you find it? Is it to your taste?"

You took your time sipping the tea. He suspected you did it to keep him on his toes, and had to admit that it was part of your intrigue. Jumin could never guess your next move. Anything he predicted you would prove him wrong in the most delightful way possible.

You looked up from the rim of the cup. "What if I say it isn't?"

A connoisseur in understanding your jest now, Jumin replied, "I shall melt into a puddle and lie on the floor until you give me an honest review."

"I will mop your puddle and wring it out the window."

He looked at you thoughtfully. "I'd say I'm offended, but I heard that committing murder is an expressway to one's heart."

"Sometimes even literally," you agreed.

Jumin's eyes widened. "The double meaning escaped me. You are a genius."

You set your cup down on its saucer with a delicate clink. "But is murder the only way to your heart?"

Jumin forgot the mechanism of speaking. Due to his years of experience with women whom he never spared a glance for, he could detect the act of flirting when he saw one. And you were flirting. With him. He was eighty-nine per cent sure of it. You deemed him worthy to be flirted with. Jumin almost slid down to his knees.

"No." He managed to get a full sentence out. "No," he tried again, "but you don't even have to try. Whatever you're doing, you are doing it well." Two better sentences. Magnificent.

"That's too bad," you said. Jumin noticed that your hand was still wrapped around your cup, steam unfurling on the top of it. You must still be cold. "I've been waiting to hack through your chest with an axe."

Jumin walked towards the heater controller and turned it on. "Is homicide the only thing in your mind?"

"It's more of an ad break from the thoughts of you."

At that, Jumin turned around. You had been thinking about him. He knew how impossible it was to stop thinking about you, and your admission was making him lightheaded. Did you ever dream of him and then scramble for your phone the first thing in the morning just to hear his voice? Did you ever yearn to talk about him to your friends the way he did, except his only friend was doing his habitual disappearance and the loneliness was more profound now that you were his constant excitement but he had no one to tell it to? Did you have anyone you hold dear to your heart? Were you open to considering him as one someday? It was not yet appropriate to be so upfront with his questions, he knew.

But one question should be fine. "How long have you been thinking of me?" Jumin asked.

You leaned against the counter and crossed your legs. "I talk to you every day. So, every day." He wondered if your composure was a facade, the way his was.

Jumin nodded. "We share the same habit. I can't quite recall what I used to think about before you entered our lives."

"Your darling white cat, the cat projects that generate a steady loss for your company, and some new cat-friendly inventions? Jaehee's nightmares, basically."

Jumin chuckled. "You know me well. I must say I'm surprised." It wasn't so bad to be known. He could get used to the feeling. "Assistant Kang doesn't appreciate the fine things in life. It's a pity that Elizabeth the Third is hiding somewhere right now. If you see her, you'll understand why I do all those things for her."

"You love her," you said kindly. "I understand that enough."

Jumin stared at you. You kept saying the right things and he kept falling, falling, falling.

"You've finished your tea," Jumin noted, but not without regret. He dreaded having to let you go.

You studied the empty cup. "Wow, I think I inhaled it. You were right, it was the best tea I've ever tasted. Thank you."

"I hope you will stay longer. Do you have other arrangements for the evening?" Jumin, who had arranged his whole weekend around your visit, calmly inquired.

"I don't," you said, with just as much calmness.

"My collection doesn't stop at drinks," he said. "I have a brand new record player and an array of classic vinyls. You can peruse them if you'd like. A three-star Michelin chef will be flying in to prepare dinner and you can request anything you want, provided that you do it three hours prior. There's also a gym on the second floor, though exercising is probably not the best activity since you don't bring a change of clothes." He paused. "You don't happen to bring one, do you?"

"Jumin, I—no. But I could wear yours if I so desperately need to shower here."

He thought he saw your eyes suspiciously glittered, but it was gone when you blinked. "I don't have clothes that would fit you perfectly." He frowned. "They're all tailored to my body, you see. I'm afraid you wouldn't find much comfort in them. Now, would you like to sit down? I've made you stand for too long." He guided you to the kitchen island, fingers light around your wrist, and pulled out one of the brass bar stools. "Please excuse my bad manners today. Something must have come over me. I don't tend to be like this."

You settled in your seat only to swivel back to meet his towering figure. Your knees nudged his legs, and Jumin was stunned, unmoving. He thought an attraction was supposed to burn him alive, to light him up from the inside. What he felt now was akin to petrification. It crept up on him from the ground he stood and incapacitated his ability to form coherent thoughts.

"Jumin," you enunciated his name with great care. He had never thought his name was beautiful until it lulled out of your mouth. He wanted to brand it into his memory.

"Yes," he said, because it was the only thing his mouth could form.

"Your house sounds like a treat."

"That's because it is. You can entertain yourself here. Whatever you want, I will do my best to provide it for you."

"Other guys could give me those too. There have been some, you know," you confessed, and Jumin was torn between wanting to know more about your past and quelling down the illogical jealousy it spurred. "Gold-dipped bouquets with diamonds, fancy restaurants where they ordered for me without asking about my preferences, jewellery that I wouldn't pick for myself." Your voice was tinted with slight distaste, but it was gone in the next instance. "Do you think I was swayed by them?"

Now Jumin's gaze turned sharp. This was a test, he realised. Your intention was not to compare him to other men, nor was it to flaunt how desired you were. Jumin knew the latter well without needing you to prove it to him. He felt the torrent of his desire all the time. It threatened to wash him ashore and pull him back into the raging sea, never letting him be at peace until he could be certain you wanted him back. So what would you get out of your question? Whatever your goal was, he knew what he was supposed to do. You favoured honesty, just as he did. That was one of the many things he respected about you.

"I doubt you were," Jumin said. "Your affection isn't the kind that could be bought. I may not know you intimately, but I know you would not budge under insensitive bribery, and your tale reeked of one. What they did was foul and not driven by the best intentions. That's not how you, or anyone, should be treated."

Your expression softened as you reached for his hand. "I know you're not trying to impress me with your wealth. I'm sorry if I made you think so. I meant to show you that I'd be here even without you throwing those things at me. You called me just to meet up and I came right away. If I stay back, it's because I want to spend more time with you." You averted your eyes. "Did you have to make me say all that?"

Emboldened by your hold that you hadn't let go, Jumin tilted your chin and you leaned forward by a fraction. "You enjoy my company," he said, assessing your earnest face. He could hear his racing heartbeat in his ears. "But will you stay?"

"You'd really like an encore to embarrass me," you grumbled. "Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"You phrased it as a hypothesis. I cannot be sure that staying with me is what you want unless you state it clearly," Jumin pressed. Though he was always surrounded by people, no one had ever bothered to stay. Not for long. Not for the person he was.

His fear and desperation must have shown on his face, for you let out a small breath and gently squeezed his arm, before trailing your sight to the empty cup waiting on the counter. "I think you should refill my tea," you said slowly. "I need more if we'll talk into the night, won't I?"

The warmth from your hold spread throughout his body and a smile broke through Jumin's face, his uncertainty receding. Someone as beautiful and brilliant as you, a gem rarer than his tea—for those tea leaves could be reproduced but you were one of a kind—wanted him as much as he wanted you. It was the first real smile he wore in a while. "We can switch to something stronger after dinner," Jumin suggested.

"Wine," you guessed. Oh, how he loved that you could read his mind. "I knew it. You always default to wine. Farewell, tea. His affair with you has been short but memorable."

Jumin was all too eager to agree. "Farewell."

Jumin hoped it would be a long, long time before his relationship with you could end. If it would ever end.

-

The footnotes that I thought would be an occasional extra but they just won't go away:

This fic is inspired by good dates and bad dates and that early crush feeling when you don't quite know the person yet so everything feels exciting and scary.

Don't worry, Jumin's tea rambles didn't deviate from canon. On day 8 he wishes you to learn tea brewing since all his family does it. I thought it'd be fun to highlight his nervousness by making him do something unexpected, especially since he's the type who would randomly do something out of pocket while still maintaining his gravitas.

The tea's legend is based on Da Hong Pao, a very rare, government-protected Chinese tea that you can only get if the president honours you some and from auctions. I didn't think I'd research that deep for accuracy for a mere fic but what am I if not committed.

The header is made to seem like a cheeky ad in the spirit of Jumin's tea endorsement. Contemporary fun with a touch of antiquity is what I was going for to capture the fic's mood and Jumin's preference. The challenge was to make a dynamic animation without looking flat or too complicated but still fit the time, format and size constraints. People still need to be able to immediately read the text, which means no over-the-top entrances and transitions. Truthfully, I die a little bit inside whenever I have to sacrifice aesthetics for function but it is what it is!

Buy me a glass of something that's definitely not coffee because I can't stand it but it is the website's name if my story touches you in some way? No worries if you don't. I'm still grateful you've read all the way through here.

[juminies]

null hypothesis

jumin week day 6, physical touch

@juminweek2019

jumin x reader, 1250 words

♡

Jumin would have not have so much as considered before meeting you that he could even potentially be touch deprived. The idea of craving touch simply didn’t make sense, anyway — too much of the touch he had experienced before was uncomfortable and unwanted. A grip like a vice around his wrist to drag him to a basement. Women trying to make advances on him since he was too young to even grasp it properly. Drunk business partners’ arms haphazardly thrown over his shoulders at corporate parties, as if they’re friends.

It practically goes without saying that when a man of almost thirty has never even been hugged properly he tends to miss the mark on physical touch altogether. And it didn’t bother Jumin, not being touched. He didn’t want to touch others just as much as he’d rather they didn’t touch him; he felt no need to instigate it outside of situations where good manners called for it. Frankly, he couldn’t even begin to enlighten someone on how to initiate human contact in a way that doesn’t feel awkward or misplaced, nor did he care to find out.

But like with every other aspect of his meticulously planned daily life, you completely threw a spanner in the works. Before he knew it you were holding his heart in your clutches — simultaneously so ruthless and so gentle. Like a glass so full that the surface tension is at risk of breaking, one tiny movement held the ability to send him spiralling (in the best way, he’d tell you).

Even still, in the very beginning he didn’t touch you much outside of what he had predetermined to be expected for a relationship. Him wanting to kiss you had been a given from the day you met in person; a craving to taste you, to leave you breathless. Yet, lingering hands and cradling arms were not something that came naturally to him. Efficiency and independence had always stood at the forefront of his life, and his logical side subconsciously assumed the stance that touching for the sake of touching merely added time and introduced complicating variables.

You had opted to stay mostly on equal footing when it came to physical contact. He was walking on unknown territory and it was only expected that it’d take time for him to find his way; if he wasn’t touchy you wouldn’t push the boundary of touch. Still, sometimes you’d fall into resting your head against his shoulder or holding onto him just to hold onto him.

Your contact was never unwelcome, he found.

In fact, with passing time it almost became too infrequent. And with the lack of your warmth (just to be warm) came an urge—a longing—that took Jumin some time to be able to place. To be touched. To relive the memories of you, or your hands, or your lips, pressed against him.

So it started with subtleties. A test. He’d purposely brush your fingers together when you passed him something. Reach for something you were reaching for just for the chance to feel your skin against his when it wasn’t necessary. Nonchalantly slide his palm into yours when you sat close to him or he, himself, sat too close to you.

One day, his left hand in yours and a cup of still-too-hot tea in the other, Jumin tells you, “I have a proposal.”

“Another? So soon? I already said yes,” you tease.

He chuckles. “Indeed. This is not a second request for your hand in marriage, though I guarantee that I would be overjoyed to marry you ten times over. Rather, I was curious if you’d be so kind as to assist me in something.”

“Anything,” you tell him. “Though it’s nothing nefarious, I hope?”

His brows furrow slightly and he looks to where your hands are locked together. “You do not take me for a criminal, do you? In that case, it’s rather irresponsible that you should stay so contentedly in my company, let alone accept my request regardless.”

A smile breaks your feigned seriousness. “I know you’re a good man, Jumin.” The concern fades away from his eyes as he looks back to you and fondly shakes his head. “But hypothetically, I never said I wouldn’t help you commit crimes,” you add.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says through an amused exhale.

“Good. Then tell me, what’s my assistance needed for?”

“An experiment.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“Then allow me to explain,” Jumin says. “I have deduced over the last several weeks of us spending time together that I find my desire to touch you, to be touched by you, increasing substantially.”

“In what sense?”

He raises an eyebrow and a smile threatens the corners of his lips. “I am simply speaking in general terms. Though I would not be opposed to more sex, too.”

He doesn’t miss the twinkle in your eyes (and he does smile, then).

“Ergo,” he continues with a giddiness uncharacteristically present on his tongue, “I hypothesise that an increase in physical contact between us, in any and all forms, would lead to an increase in my quality of life. Only if that would be something you may also enjoy, of course.”

“You know, I never had you down as much of the type to put the fate of something as precious as your quality of life in someone else’s hands.” You lean in and kiss him in the way that always leaves him half-dizzy and wanting more; chaste but playful; almost saccharine. “But I’ll take good care of it.”

Truth be told, Jumin is not the type to give away his vulnerability easily. Not at all. But if he feels the need to explain himself further (and he does), it never comes. His need for you is not something he can effectively vocalise. Just because — that’s at the crux of it. Just because.

So subtleties shift to blatancies. When you drag yourself out of his bed in the mornings that you stay at the penthouse to greet him brewing tea or coffee for you both in the kitchen, you wrap your arms around his waist and sink into his back with no hesitancy or resistance. He lets you take the first cup and holds onto it longer than he needs to just to feel the way the heat passes between his hands and the ceramic and between your hands and his. He tucks your hair away from your face as you take the first sip, and revels in the way you gently rest your head against him with your eyes closed while trying to properly wake yourself up. The way you make a point of straightening his tie and smoothing out his jacket before he leaves for work, how you linger with your hands pressed to his chest, is something he savours. It means he kisses you with just a little more fervour than had previously been typical in the morning, and he won’t complain when you keep his mouth to yours for just a few moments too long. When he has the honour of coming home to you after an exhausting day he will happily lay on you as you run your fingers into his hair and listen to him talk. He will let himself be pampered and held and kissed silly. And he will reject that pesky null hypothesis: There is no significant relationship between physical contact and my quality of life.

Because it’s you.

[yoosungisbabie]

on call - day one

welcome to Jumin Week 2023! I know I've been gone for a long time, but this event always manages to bring me back. I hope you all are doing well, and I hope you enjoy all the works that will be shared during this wonderful week!

@juminweek2019

jumin x mc

rating: T - for teen and up audiences

prompt: free day!

warnings: female pronouns used for mc/reader ♡

word count: 3,266

ao3 link

“I just got out of the shower,” she finally said, making Jumin falter even further. His mind stuttered, multiple questions surfacing as he blinked quickly. “What does that have to do with this?” he wondered aloud, unable to stop himself before he could even think through his own question. She sputtered out a tense laugh, the noise tickling his senses even though he was on high alert. “Jumin, I’m na— I’m not…clothed? Gosh,” she sighed, and Jumin blinked quickly, shaking his head to clear his mind. Of course that was what she meant.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Jumin slowly twisted his pen closed, placing it back in the pen cup next to his monitor. He let his eyes scan over his paperwork and the correspondence pulled up on his computer, assessing whether or not he could consider his task done.

Just as he decided he was satisfied with the outcome, his phone began to vibrate violently in his pocket. It was rare that clients or business partners dialed his personal phone during working hours, so he reached into his suit’s inner pocket out of curiosity.

Flipping it over in his hand, he felt his eyebrows raise at the caller ID. His fingers twitched, and he hesitated for a brief moment before he accepted the call.

“Hello, MC. I’m at my office, but I have a moment to take your call,” he said, unable to help the small smile that began to spread across his lips.

“Hi, Jumin,” she sighed, sounding less than pleased. His anticipation to hear her voice chilled into concern, his posture tightening minutely.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, disregarding any questions in his mind about why he felt so panicked.

“Oh, nothing!” she replied quickly, pausing and letting out another breath. “I just, um…” She pulled the phone away from her face to clear her throat.

“I need help with…something,” she spoke slowly, sounding very unsure. The whole situation had him unsettled, and he immediately stood from his chair, placing a steadying hand on his desk.

“What is it?” he wondered sternly, running through a mental checklist of personnel he trusted.

“I forgot something in my apartment, and I…can’t get it,” she continued, her voice strained.

“Are you injured? You sound like you are in pain,” he said worriedly, pressing his lips together as his mind raced.

“No, I’m fine, but um,” she clarified, calming him only slightly. “I forgot my towel.”

“No problem. I can send someone over immediately,” he said, pushing his chair aside and beginning towards his office door. “What instructions would you like me to give them?”

“No, you don’t have to— I mean,” she started, taking a deep breath. Jumin hesitated where he stood, waiting for her to continue.

“I just got out of the shower,” she finally said, making Jumin falter even further. His mind stuttered, multiple questions surfacing as he blinked quickly.

“What does that have to do with this?” he wondered aloud, unable to stop himself before he could even think through his own question.

She sputtered out a tense laugh, the noise tickling his senses even though he was on high alert.

“Jumin, I’m na— I’m not…clothed? Gosh,” she sighed, and Jumin blinked quickly, shaking his head to clear his mind. Of course that was what she meant.

“And you’re in a first-floor apartment,” he continued quietly, pushing his hair from his forehead. He tried to ignore the way his cheeks had warmed or the distracting route his mind was taking.

“Right, and I just need someone to grab my towel or even some clothes,” she sighed, sounding relieved that someone finally understood her predicament.

“Please send me your address. I will be there within 15 minutes,” he said decidedly, buttoning his jacket closed with one hand and pulling open his office door.

“What? Jumin, you don’t personally have to come, I just thought—“

“Nonsense. There are little to no staff members I would trust with this task,” he said as if his assistance was the only solution to her problem. In actuality, there were many more solutions that didn’t interrupt his workday, and he knew it.

“I suppose,” she relented, and he exhaled with finality, motioning to Jaehee as he strode past her.

“Okay, um. My towel! It’s in the laundry basket on the couch in the living room. I think,” MC said, and he made a mental note as he stepped into the elevator.

“And is your apartment door unlocked?” he wondered, hoping that her unprecedented entrance into the RFA had taught her even a little about prioritizing her safety.

“Oh. No…” she muttered, and he couldn’t hold back a crooked smile. Imagining her befuddled face brought only one word to mind. Cute.

“I’ll call a locksmith to meet me at your apartment,” he smiled, hearing her inhale quickly just before he pulled his phone away from his ear to multitask.

“No, it’s okay! I have a hidden key,” she provided, making his eyebrows furrow.

“I would suggest that you remove that in the future, but surprisingly, it will solve some of our problems today,” he said after a moment of thought. Unexpectedly, she cursed quietly, making Jumin pause as the elevator doors opened.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sighed. Jumin placed a hand against the door of the elevator, holding it open for a moment longer while he listened.

“Why?” he wondered, glancing around the parking garage until he watched Driver Kim pull forward to where he stood.

“I did something as dumb as forgetting my towel, and you’re going through all of this just to help,” she muttered. He could hear the way her lips were pouted through the phone, and it made him all the more anxious to render aid and arrive to her quickly.

“Humans can be very forgetful,” he offered, pulling open the car door and sliding in smoothly. He pulled his phone away from his face to put it on speaker, copying her address from their private message thread and forwarding it to Driver Kim. Putting his phone back up to his ear, he continued.

“I once forgot a client's date of birth during a business meeting and could have made them extremely uncomfortable,” he began, pulling his seatbelt over his lap and buckling it as the car pulled away.

“Luckily, I remembered not a moment too soon that they were born on August the 7th, and I redeemed myself. Not that they knew I had forgotten,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he heard her begin to laugh.

“I didn’t realize I was being funny,” he said, more to himself than to her. She caught her breath, giggling once more before responding.

“Thank you for cheering me up, Jumin,” she said warmly, making him reevaluate what he had said to her. Was that what he’d done?

“I’ll let you go now, but please arrive safely,” she said before he could reply, and he cleared his throat, nodding to himself.

“I will,” he agreed, hearing her hum in contentment.

“And thank you, again,” she breathed, chuckling lightly. He hesitated, fighting the inclination to answer her gratitude with dismissal, wanting to say that it was nothing. It started a strange sensation in his chest as he realized it wasn’t that he didn’t mind helping, but that he wanted to.

“I’ll be there soon,” was all he could say in reply, slightly disappointed in himself when he hung up instead of waiting for her to say her final goodbye.

The car ride there was all too short and much too long as he drowned in his own thoughts. Was he the first person she had called? Did this kind of thing happen often? What other things was she forgetful about? Who else would she have reached out to if he were unavailable?

Once they arrived and he stepped foot outside of his vehicle, Jumin tried to keep his thoughts clinical, focusing on the task at hand and not the way it was making him feel.

He entered the lobby with one of his security guards, glancing at the attendants behind the desk briefly and nodding. They gaped at him in silence as he walked to the elevator.

Once they arrived on her floor, Jumin instructed his guard to wait for him by the elevator doors. He then felt his heart begin to beat in a way he wasn’t quite familiar with. It only persisted as he approached her apartment, his chest feeling tight and warm in an almost uncomfortable way.

He double-checked the number on the door just above the peephole, pausing when he realized that she hadn’t told him where her hidden key was. Scanning the area, he hesitantly reached to feel along the top of the doorway and tapped lightly on the dusty surface until he bumped the key with his fingers. Pulling it down to eyesight, he frowned, wondering why she would put herself in danger in such a way.

He knocked thrice, pausing briefly before pushing the key into the lock and turning it until it clicked. Pressing his lips together in anticipation, he slowly opened the door.

“Please excuse me,” he spoke softly, stepping inside and taking the key from the lock. He closed the door behind himself, looking around quickly.

Her apartment wasn’t very large, but it was decorated in a way that confirmed without a doubt that she indeed lived there. It felt refreshing, with colors that reminded him of her and open spaces, and he could see little touches that were undoubtedly hers. He felt some of the tension in his chest fade, placing the key down on the table near the door and thinking of all the security measures he would like to talk with her about.

Looking down, he instinctively began taking his shoes off. Once he had, he glanced around for a pair of extra slippers for him to use, finding only a small pair of pink, flowery ones. He slipped them on, feeling the back ends hit his heels and wondering if he should just continue in his socks. Feeling strangely apprehensive, he stepped further into her apartment in her slippers, reminding himself of the task at hand.

“MC?” he called out, scanning the apartment to find where she could be. He noticed a closed door as he stepped through to her living area, nearly bumping into the back of her couch. Remembering her instructions, he looked down to see a basket overflowing with clean laundry sitting on the couch. He paused, seeing undergarments in the basket as well as towels and clothes. As carefully as he could, he picked out a blue towel, managing to lift it from the basket without disturbing anything else.

He folded the bath towel over his arm, glancing back to the door where he thought he was hearing movement from.

“MC? It’s Jumin,” he said, wondering why his jaw felt stiff.

“Jumin?” she called out from behind the door, making his eyes widen. He forced himself to take another step forward, clearing his throat.

“Yes, it’s me,” he replied, stopping a few paces from the door.

“Thank goodness,” he heard her sigh. His relief quickly turned into gripping tension when the doorknob began to turn. His eyes widened briefly before he shut them tight, turning his head and making sure he still had the towel.

“I have your towel here,” he spoke, his voice coming out strained. He heard the door open, feeling the humidity from the shower rush out to meet him.

“Thank you so much, Jumin,” she said, a smile of relief evident in her voice. He couldn’t reply just yet, taking the towel and handing it out toward her voice. When he extended his arm fully, his hand bumped hers, making his eyes fly open before he could even think.

Luckily, it was only her forearm that was extended past the door. She felt around blindly until she found the towel, his hand lingering in the empty air as he watched her close the door.

“I really appreciate it,” she reiterated, her voice muffled. “I can’t thank you enough, really. I feel so bad that you came all the way here.” He composed himself again, picking a small, blue string from his sleeve with shaky hands.

“It’s no bother at all,” he said loudly enough for her to hear. “Is there anything else you need while I’m here?” he found himself asking, his hands tensing at the thought of making her uncomfortable or overstaying his welcome.

“Oh no, not at all,” she answered quickly, her voice moving farther from the door.

“Alright, then I’ll be on my way,” he said, sparing another glance at the door before starting towards the exit.

“Jumin!” she called, startling him. He rushed back over to the door, his hand lingering just above the metal of the doorknob.

“Yes? What is it?” he pressed, resting his other hand against the wood of the door.

“Do you have time to stay?” she wondered, surprising him so fully that he was silent for a moment.

“Stay?” was all he could get out, his mind racing much too quickly.

“I haven’t seen you since the party, so if you would give me just a minute to get dressed?” she asked, making his eyebrows furrow together. She just wanted to see him?

“O-of course,” he nodded, backing away from the door just a bit.

“Unless you’re busy?” she prompted.

“I have time,” he responded quickly, feeling his thoughts bouncing around uncontrollably.

“Okay! Please make yourself at home,” she said, her smile present in his mind as she spoke.

Jumin stepped fully away from the door, ignoring the way his phone began to buzz more and more often in his pocket.

He took another look around, glancing at the large windows that looked out over the courtyard of the apartment complex. After a moment, he reached up and pulled just the sheer curtains closed, hoping that would make her feel more at ease.

He was drawn towards her television that was mounted on the wall, seeing a plethora of framed pictures on the console beneath it. Scanning each one, he stopped when he landed on the group photo of the RFA that had been taken at the party. It had taken a few minutes to get everyone in one place and to get a picture that everyone was satisfied with, but the picture she had framed was not the final picture they had all decided on. Instead, she had chosen one where everyone was bickering about where to stand, how to pose, and what Luciel should and shouldn’t be doing. He hadn’t gotten to look through all of the photos taken that day, but this still in particular felt like something he needed to have for himself. In the photo, he noticed that his gaze was focused on MC completely, and the expression he was wearing was not one he believed he’d ever seen on himself.

The door opening behind him startled him out of his thoughts, making him jump and turn to look. He turned back around just as quickly, seeing MC begin to step out in just her towel. His hands trembled slightly, the tips of his ears feeling all too warm.

“Nearly done, sorry! Just grabbing some clothes,” she explained, the soft sound of her feet against the wood floor disappearing down the hall towards what he guessed was her room. He was glad he hadn’t wandered in that direction.

Opening his eyes slowly, he focused his thoughts on the photo in front of him once more. Although the party had been less mundane than in the past, the only thing that got him through was seeing MC flourish in that party hall. Apart from looking stunning, she was kind, friendly, and wildly charismatic that night. It was a miracle in motion for Jumin, and it was truly a shame that they hadn’t seen each other since that night.

He turned away from the photo, hoping to distance himself from the surge of emotion that was building in his core that he couldn’t name. She stepped out of her room just then, looking excited to see him as she lit up with a beautiful smile.

The wave of emotion he’d tried to elude washed over him almost painfully, freezing his muscles in place. He was unable to stop the thoughts rushing through his mind, pressing his lips together as he mentally formed a very concerning one.

Is this what love feels like?

He didn’t know what romantic love meant, he only knew that he had decided never to engage in it. Whatever was happening to him right then didn’t feel wrong, but he also couldn’t quite put a label on it. He just knew that he wanted to keep seeing her, no matter what it meant.

“It’s so good to see you again,” she grinned, moving quickly towards him as he tried to regain control of himself. He felt his lips pull back into a smile, his shoulders relaxing and his hands losing their fists.

“Likewise,” he breathed out, watching her blink at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t mean to keep you long, I just…” she started, dropping her smile and then immediately turning her lips upward into another one, almost as if she too couldn’t help herself. “I wanted to see you,” she finished quietly, completely unaware of the way her small admittance made his heart stutter in his chest.

“Anytime,” he nodded without hesitation, watching her meet his eyes in confusion.

“I know how busy you are,” she said, raising her eyebrows for him to agree.

“Anytime. Really,” he repeated, thinking to himself that no matter the issue, he would drop anything if she was the one who was calling. He watched as she pulled her eyes from his and met them again multiple times, her smile growing timid. He blinked, taking his eyes from her and wondering if he was making her uncomfortable.

“Thank you, again,” she said to break the silence, bowing to him and making him frown.

“There’s no need for that,” he said quickly, taking a step forward and drawing her attention down to the ill-fitting slippers on his feet. She grinned, straightening up again and softening at him.

“You’re very kind, Jumin. I admire that about you,” she continued. He felt himself reaching to adjust his cufflinks, signaling to himself that he needed a change of scenery or he would more than likely do something he would regret.

“MC,” was all that left his lips, making her smile falter and the air grow thick around them.

“Well, I shouldn’t keep you. Please get back safely,” she smiled, wringing her hands together. He nodded, breaking eye contact with her and turning himself towards the door.

“I hope to see you again soon,” he said, seeing her shoulders move towards her ears from the corner of his vision. “I have many topics I’d like to discuss with you. Such as security,” he continued, trying to shift his mind away from the precarious edge at which he’d found himself.

“Security?” she repeated, watching him bend down to place her slippers back where he had found them. Stepping into his shoes, he hummed in agreement.

“You never told me where your key was,” he continued, raising an eyebrow at her and watching as her lips tightened in chagrin. Before a moment had passed, her expression broke into laughter, making another effortless smile stretch onto his lips.

“I’ll be more careful,” she chuckled, taking the key from the table and turning it over in her hands. He nodded, feeling his sternum buzz at the thought of returning to her apartment in the future.

“I’m counting on it,” he said softly, bowing slightly before he opened the door and stepped through. She let it close behind him, not saying another word.

Jumin couldn’t help but linger by her door, his back to it as he convinced himself to keep moving. Once he finally found it in himself to do so, he started back towards the elevator and pulled his phone out, checking his calendar for his next available free day.

~~~~~

hello! thank you all so much for reading!! I have been absolutely not on tumblr at all, but like I said, I can't stay away from Jumin Week <3 if you enjoyed this, please consider liking and reblogging! it really means a lot to me, especially if you leave a note in the notes or in your tags!

again, thank you so much, and I hope you all have a great day!

Mel x

[marsystarsy]

Jumin Week Day 1 - Eros

“Long day?” @juminweek2019​

Based off of the painting “In Her Arms” by Malcolm Liepke

[jafndaegur]

Another Wonderful Year

Jumin Week | Day 1: Free Day | @juminweek2019

Jumin walks into the penthouse with a tired sigh, stepping out of his shoes and dropping his briefcase down by the door. A weary hand rakes through his hair and he takes a moment to lean against the doorway. It is dark, and only the dim light from a lamp in the living room filters in through the hall.

"MC, Elizabeth?"

"Ah, Jumin! Espérate allí, amorcito—un momento! Stay there for just one more minute, okay?"

His chuckle is tired but he decides to humor them. Leaning back and looking up at the ceiling, he closes his eyes and takes a deep inhale. He notices the small details he didn't catch before. The hint of espresso and the smell of roses. MC must have brought out the vinyl player from their bedroom because the soft looping scratch of the needle on the record whispers faintly.

"Alright, you can come over now!" MC calls with a warm timbre in their voice.

Jumin chuckles to himself and pushes off the wall. He listens as a soft and jazzy song begins to play. When he gets to the living room, his breath hitches a bit. Rose petals are scattered along the floor, and candles line every shelf and coffee table. MC stands at the center, their eyes bright and pleased with themself.

"Darling…" Jumin scans the room and notices the two little mugs of hot espresso.

"Qué tal el trabajo hoy, Jumin?" MC saunters up to him with their hands behind their back. "Was it a good day at work?"

Jumin leans down and presses a soft kiss to MC's lips. Their breath flutters against his skin and a pleased smile spreads against his mouth. He hums softly.

"There wasn't much to report today, but it certainly seems to be more eventful now…what's the occasion?"

"What's the occasion?" MC mimics with a light teasing tone before holding out a bouquet of flowers they'd been hiding. "I know you didn't forget, amorcito. Your father wouldn't let you forget your own birthday, let alone the media."

Jumin takes the flowers in his arms, eyes widening as he peruses the white waxy petals and the soft red blooms of different peonies and magnolias.

"Flowers? For me?"

"For you. What could I get a man who receives everything on the daily?" MC stands on their tiptoes and kisses him again, giggling when a surprised little gasp escapes him.

"What did you get him?" Jumin murmurs back.

"Well, flowers that are as beautiful as he." MC gently takes the flowers from his hold and places them on the coffee table. Placing their arms around his neck, they bring him to a slow sway in time with the tempo of the music. "An ambient evening as a calm as he, and warm embrace as loving as he."

Jumin laughs, it is a heady and thunderous thing in his chest.

"Happy birthday, amorcito," MC coos as their hand finds his.

He leads MC in a dance to the golden light of the candles. "Thank you, darling. Here's to another wonderful year with you."

[edgelord-saeran]

@juminweek2019

Day 3: Storge

Jumin had never put much thought about having children. He knew he would have at least one eventually. The duty of creating an heir ultimately fell to him. He had no interest in this hypothetical child. He knew that what he'd learned from his own parents wasn't the best. He turned out fine, but he knew that it could be better.

But now, sitting in a hospital room with his wife and love of his life snoozing after ten hours of labor, he had a new perspective. Jumin felt a little out of place, his suit having been traded out for sweats and a henley, but what made him feel even more out of place was the infant currently laying in his arms.

She was bleary-eyed, staring up at him with the same amount of intensity that he was staring at her with.

"Hello." Jumin said softly. His little girl yawned, her tiny mouth forming into a small o as she went back to dreaming about whatever it was that day old infants dreamed of. Jumin smiled, feeling his chest warm.

This was his baby. His little girl. He hoped that she received most of her traits from her mother, and only the best of his traits. She would live long and live happy, surrounded by the love of both of her parents.

They would be better than his parents. Jumin held he close, gently rubbing her eyebrow with his finger as he began to hum the lullaby that his love had taught him.

He hadn't known how he would feel when she was born, but he hadn't expected this overwhelming, all encompassing love for the little bundle in his arms.

[shittylongcatposts]

@juminweek2019: Ludus

(I'm late- oopsies also ehm it's a little spicy but not too much)

“Jumin? Darling” you called out from the bathroom, desperately trying to pull up the zipper. 

With fast steps, the called man approached the door, opening it a little to still give you some privacy. His dark locks poked inside. 

“I need your help. I can’t close the zipper of this stupid dress.” “I- It’s not stupid, dear, it really suits you.” He countered instantly while eyeing the view in front of him. You stood there in a wonderful gown, one he picked out just for you. 

“Yeah, you haven’t seen the back of it yet.” you laughed. 

Jumin walked inside the bathroom, a grin on his lips and his ears turned red. 

You faced the mirror above the sink, showing your date for the night, the undone zipper. Jumin took both hands and stroked them up your arms massaging your shoulders before placing a kiss on the crew of your neck - one of your favorite spots ever. You shivered when his cold delicate fingers touched your soft skin, but still you melted into his touch. “I think you look rather stunning.” He kissed you again. “To be fair, I wish I could look at this view all day, but I don’t wish for any other person to see you like this”. Another kiss. You moaned softly. Wishing you could both just stay at home. Unfortunately he stepped back. But before starting to close the zipper he looked down - eyeing something. You couldn’t tell what it was.

“My love. Don’t you have another bra?”

“What did you just say?”

“I asked you if you have another bra, because this one looks rather ehm… fuzzy, old and”

"Excuse you? That is my favorite one! I will not change into any other, because this one is comfy! the comfiest i have!”

“Listen darling, this is a really important Gala and I really don’t want…”

“Don’t want what, Jumin? Are you really saying I should change my stinky underwear, because you’re afraid somebody might see - how? huh. Tell me how they will see it?”

He scoffed. Breathing in to remain calm but that reaction just made it worse. You were cooking inside, ready to fire back.

“Darling, this Bra looks rather old and in fact I do fear that it’ll burst into ashes tonight, I mean look at all the fluff rests and one of the hooks is coming loose too. Please, my love just wear one of the new ones.”

“Stop it right there - Mister. I’m sure if I open one of your drawers there is a stinky old boxer, brief or whatever, we all have comfy underwear and who cares if we wear them? Who cares if there’s a fucking bit of fluff on it or if it has a hole or two? Hm?" You walked into the bedroom standing right in front of his drawers now, ready to pull it open with full force. “I don’t have any.”  

“Oh, You don’t, huh? Let’s have a look then.” With that you opened the drawers and everything you saw was clean and neatly stuff away. 

“See. I told you.” He stood right behind you again, looking over your shoulder and whispering into your ear. A devilish grin playing around his lips as he embraced you. 

"Liar. They are somewhere. I'm sure of it.” You nodded certain that you would find them one way or another - some day or another. 

“I’m afraid we have only a few minutes before we need to go.” His dark voice asserted from behind you. But instead of releasing you from his embrace he placed one hand on your thigh. “And I could think of doing something that’s a lot more pleasant than fighting with you.”

He pulled you closer to him, so you could feel what he was thinking of. With a one swift movement you turned into his arms, kissing him hastily. Your hands fiddled with the buckle of his belt and when it finally opened you pulled down his tight suit pants just enough to show his fuzzy briefs. “aha - see i found them.” 

“oh stop it will you? You won’t wear a bra anyways.”

“JUMIN HAN!” Now you scoffed. But instead of mocking him further you continued your teasing otherwise.

[mrs-han]

Jumin Week

Day Three: Storge

Trigger warning: Death Mention.

“I want Mommy!!”

“Mommy isn’t here right now —”

A deafening shriek from Jumin’s son — spawn, more like — pierced through Jumin’s eardrums. Frustration overwhelmed him in an instant, the urge to grab the boy’s arm and pull him into his room stronger than any conflict resolution.

“I want Mommy!!!”

Sweeping his young son into his arms, Jumin winced as the child’s hands smacked his face with open palms. Reaching to shield his face, Jumin’s eyes widened as the boy’s arms wrapped around his neck, nearly strangling him.

“Son,” Jumin choked.

“Mommy!!!”

“Stop.”

“Mommy!!!”

“Stop.”

Jumin’s authority rang clear. The boy released his rage-filled grip on his father’s neck, lower lip wobbling uncontrollably.

“Mommy isn’t here. Mommy is gone, do you understand me?”

The boy’s soft whine only agitated Jumin further. “Where… wha, where did she go?”

Looking into eyes greener than emeralds, Jumin was at a loss for words. His exhaustion proved evident as his shoulders slumped and his grip loosened round his son’s bottom.

“Daddy…?”

“Mommy is… in a place we cannot reach.” Jumin’s voice began to shake. “She… ehm.”

It was quiet now. So quiet that Jumin was able to think. And he would do anything for some kind of noise, even if it meant his son screaming into his ear.

But the young boy stared at his father, searching for an answer - waiting to learn of your whereabouts.

Your fate.

Anything.

“Is she on a vacation?”

His son’s sudden question yanked Jumin from his thoughts. “… Yes. Yes, she’s on vacation. The biggest… and best vacation ever.”

“Bestier than the trip to DisneyLand?”

Jumin nodded slowly. “Yes. But her vacation is different.”

Adjusting his son in his arms, Jumin walked to the balcony of the house… your house. Pointing up to the sky, Jumin’s voice nearly disappeared with the wind. “You see? That is where she went.”

“Heaven?”

The very word sank its teeth into Jumin’s heart. He struggled to catch his breath, to regain his strength. “Yes. That is the one place in this world that we cannot go to. Not yet.”

“But I wanna see her now, Da.”

“No.” Jumin’s hold tightened, practically smushing his son against his chest. “No, no. You are to stay with me. You aren’t ready to see her yet, understand?”

Whimpering, the confused youth clung onto his father.

And the dam inside of Jumin broke.

@juminweek2019

[brighteststar707]

Jumin Week 2023

Written for Jumin Week 2023, hosted by @juminweek2019 and based on this prompt list.

✦ Day 2 - Receiving Gifts

✦ Day 3 - Quality Time

✦ Day 4 - Acts of Service

✦ Day 5 - Words of Affirmation

[elvendara]

Jumin Week 10 Oct '22

Took a bit of liberty here 🤣

@juminweek2019

Philautia: Self-love/Being kind to oneself

October 10th 2022

Jumin sighed as he relaxed into his bath. The week had been as stressful as usual but Friday night he always reserved for recharging. It was something Yoosung had taught him, after once having bitten his head off when he worked as an intern in his company. Instead of reacting in fear or being hurt by the tyraid Yoosung had simply taken a deep breath and told Jumin he should take his aggression out on video games.

He grinned recalling his surprise at the time. Yoosung had patted him on the shoulder and stepped around him. That night he had received an email from the boy, a digital copy of LOLOL and an invitation to join him in a game. Feeling guilty about his earlier outburst he had downloaded the game onto his laptop and created a character. Surprisingly, the play was effective in depleting his body of any annoyance and anger he had stored up.

The fact that he had enjoyed it so much made him research other activities that would help keep him in a healthy state of mind. Taking a bath and drinking his best bottle of wine had become his favorite. He also left his phone in the living room so he would not be tempted to use it.

He had lived off adrenaline and ambition for so long that it had taken the university student and video game junky to break through to him. Of course Assistant Kang had said as much, so had his father, but being as stubborn as he was, it was finally the shock of the younger man’s response that had finally gotten through to him. Jumin found that because of his new rituals, taking time for himself, and caring for his mental health as well as his physical health, had made the time he worked even better. His head was clearer, his decision making easier, his work load not so overwhelming. He also found that most people did not need him to move as quickly as he assumed they did. Business had improved because he was now also aware of other people’s health around him.

Taking a sip of his wine he sighed once more in contentment. Setting the glass aside he slid under the water, getting his dark hair wet. The lavender oil in the water was a soft floral scent. It helped with getting his body ready for sleep. He closed his eyes, leaned back, and let his hands roam his body. After all, there were other ways to relax. Reaching between his legs he grasped his semi hard cock. It didn’t take him long to waken it to fully erect.

A groan escaped his parted lips as he stroked himself from base to tip, flicking the opening just the way he liked it. It didn’t take long for him to feel that fire in the pit of his stomach as it rose and engulfed his body. Biting his lip he tensed his body as the orgasm overrode everything else. His arched back collapsed at the release and he eased back into the warmth of the water.

Taking a few breaths as he regained equilibrium, he reached for the wine glass and took another sip. It was still cool and refreshing. He pondered the dirtied water that he had infected with his semen. Refreshing the bath would be an option, but he found he had no will to do it. Instead he lay back and closed his storm grey eyes, deciding to relax and let his mind empty of all thought and responsibility. The edges of his mouth turned up into a small smile as his hand once more ventured between his thighs.

[camilastuf]

Day 2 - Touched -  EDIT : my sleep deprived self forgot to add the context   context : ‘‘ Jumin tries to wake you up after last night’s  heated love session , but you decide to mess with him by not waking up and trying your best to pretend to be alseep ‘‘ translation : WARNING : I don’t know korean, I just used the exact translation in the game: 00:42 - ‘’Dear’’ 00:46 - ‘’princess’’ 00:54 - ‘’yes/ That’s right’’ 1:01 - ‘’ I’m up’’ 1:02 - ’’hm’’? 1:04 - ‘’That Face?’’ 1:09 - ‘’Are you playing with me?’’ 1:13 - ‘’oh, are you pretending to be asleep?’’ 1:22- ‘’I like seeing you make that face’’ 1:27 - ‘’But I enjoy looking at your wide eyes more so I will wake you up with a kiss’’ 1:49 - ‘‘How about it’‘ 2:03 - ‘’ Do you understand my struggle now?’’ 2:11 - ‘’ Your face is red. Are you having a fever?’’ 2:18 - ‘’Well.. I tend to have a lower body temperature’’ 2:27 - ‘’So you’d be the perfect temperature in my arms’’ 2:33 - ‘’ ..Why don’t you come closer? just a little bit.’’ 2:38 - ‘’ Hm?…I don’t want that…don’t turn your back on me’’ 2:44 - ‘’ Yes, keep your chin up like that’’ 2:49 - ‘’I want to see you’’ 3:00 - ‘’Too late to regret it now .. you’re the one who started it..Come to me’’

I might be too late for the party but I said I would be participating in @juminweek2019 and damn it I will, time zones can sometimes be a god send  it’s not the best of quality it’s been almost a year and i still don’t know what i’m doing   but in all honesty I enjoyed making this little clip. I’d like to thank my amazing friends over at discord especially the amazing 💝💖 @fandomplethora 💓💓 and the insanely talented artist that reached to me and give some much needed material 💓 Franjipanitree [Anj] 💗  i still can’t believe i got to talk to both of you   💗💝 thank you all for helping me and answering all of my pointless random questions, love you all. 

💕💖

[juminweek2019]

Jumin Week 2019 Masterpost

Day One

Day 1 | Happy Birthday | Family | RFA by @jumin-love

Mysme-Fictober Day 5 AND Day 1 of Jumin Han Week by @elvendara

Gratitude by @jylcie

Happy Birthday Jumin han! by @kicamiju

Happy Birthday Jumin by @shittylongcatposts

Day One: Happy Birthday! by @edgelord-saeran

Happy Birthday/ Family by @mysticmelove

Beef Wellington by @mrs-han

happy birthday !!! by @artsy-sorbusaucuparia

Jumin Week - Day 1: Happy Birthday! by @yeleleow

a family lost by @anon-drabble

Jumin Week: Day 1 {Birthday} by @little-writings

Jumin Week - Day 1 “Happy Birthday” by @somethingspookyythiswaycomes

Happy Birthday Jumin :3 by @salty-pretzel

Jumin Week 2019, Day 1: Happy Birthday! by @caire-draws

Stay by my Side by @jafndaegur

Day Two

Day 2: Touch | Caged | Zen by @jumin-love

Jumin week- day 2: Touched by @mysticmelove

Mysme-Fictober Day 6 AND Day 2 of Jumin Han Week by @elvendara

Day Two: Touch by @edgelord-saeran

Jumin Week Day 2: Touched/Caged by @kicamiju

Color by @jylcie

a family lost ch 2 by @anon-drabble

Touched by @somethingspookyythiswaycomes / Pualani (Ao3)

Fragile Duetto by @jafndaegur

Jumin trying to wake you up by @camilastuf

Cupid and Psyche - Prelude  by @mrs-han

Day Three

The Forest by @jylcie

Jumin Week Day 3: Fairy tales/AU by @kicamiju

Day 3: AU/Fairy Tale(kinda) by @edgelord-saeran

Mysme-Fictober Day 7 AND Day 3 of Jumin Han Week by @elvendara

Jumin week- day 3: Soulmate AU by @mysticmelove

Day 3| Fairy tales | AU | Yoosung by @jumin-love

Jumin Week - Day 3: AU by @yeleleow

a lost family ch 3 by @anon-drabble

Jumin Week: Day 3 {AU} by @little-writings

Day Three - Fairy Tales by @mrs-han

Broken by Eyes of Jade by @jafndaegur

Day Four

Day Four: Comfort by @edgelord-saeran

Day 4: Resilience/Comfort/Jaehee by @jumin-love

Resolve by @jylcie

Jumin Week Day 4: Resilience/Comfort by @kicamiju

Mysme-Fictober Day 8 AND Day 4 of Jumin Han Week by @elvendara

Comfort by @somethingspookyythiswaycomes

a family lost ch 4 by @anon-drabble

Jumin week- day 4: Resilience/ Comfort by @mysticmelove

Day Five

Nature by @jylcie

Day Five: College by @edgelord-saeran

Mysme-Fictober Day 9 AND Day 5 of Jumin Han Week by @elvendara

Day 5| Nature | College | Seven by @jumin-love

Jumin Week Day 5: Nature/College by @kicamiju

Day Six

Day Six: Future by @edgelord-saeran

Mysme-Fictober Day 10 AND Day 6 of Jumin Han Week by @elvendara

Jumin Week Day 6: Domesticity/Future by @kicamiju

Jumin week- day 6: Domesticity/ Future by @mysticmelove

Domesticity by @somethingspookyythiswaycomes

Day 6 | Domesticity | Future | V by @jumin-love

Jumin Week: Day 6 {Future} by @little-writings

Ten Years by @jylcie

Day Seven

Do You like My Costume? By @icantbelieveitsnotdeviantart

Jumin Week Day 7: Party/Kindness by @kicamiju

Day Seven: Party by @edgelord-saeran

Mysme-Fictober Day 11 AND Day 7 of Jumin Han Week by @elvendara

Jumin Week - Day 7: Free choice (Hide and seek) by @yeleleow

Day 7| Party | Kindness | Free Choice by @jumin-love​

Compassion by @jylcie​

Party by @somethingspookyythiswaycomes​

Note: If you definitely submitted something on time and you don’t see it here, please DM me! My eyes are tired and I could’ve definitely missed something! THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR YOUR PARTICIPATION 

[yoosungisbabie]

all that really matters - day four

@juminweek2019

jumin x mc

rating: T

prompt: acts of service

warnings: slightly suggestive phrases/moments

word count: 2,925

ao3 link

She had forgotten about the reporters outside, flinching as a flurry of clicks and flashes started around her. Instinctively, she turned her face away, pressing her cheek into Jumin’s chest as he walked without hesitation. “Mr. Han!” “Is she injured?” “What dress is she wearing?”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“And that concludes our event for this evening. Thank you all for coming. Please have a wonderful evening.” The moving of chairs and dishes clattering quickly replaced the announcer’s clear voice.

Jumin placed his napkin on the table, clearing his throat as she ensured she had her phone and purse. As her fiancé straightened his tie and buttoned his jacket closed, she readied herself for the next few hours of business jargon and conversations that she would have to focus on trying to keep up with.

“Mr. Han,” she heard from behind them, seeing Jumin turn his head. As he moved to stand, the conversation around them rose in volume. She stood to join them when Jumin offered both his hand and a light smile towards her.

“My love, this is Mr. Yang, our head of finances at C&R,” he explained, nodding once at her and letting go of her hand so she could shake Mr. Yang’s.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she grinned, shaking his hand firmly but gently. The older man’s eyebrows rose, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“You’ve heard of me?” he wondered, releasing her hand.

“Of course!” she laughed lightly. “Jumin and his father would be lost without you.” Mr. Yang smiled sheepishly, swatting the air as if to push her comment away.

“Not at all,” he murmured, shaking his head. Jumin chuckled shortly, glancing down at her feet and moving his chair just a little as she stepped out from between them.

“Dearest, if you would like to make your way to the downstairs lounge, I can meet you there,” Jumin softly said as he leaned close to speak in her ear. She smiled, nodding up at him and understanding through his eyes that he didn’t want her to stand and be bored with their conversation.

“Of course,” she whispered back, bowing slightly at Mr. Yang as he did the same. “It was lovely to meet you!” she smiled, hearing him scoff in surprise as she moved away from them. She maneuvered through the banquet hall, glad to stretch her legs after spending the last two hours at their tables. However, there wasn’t much relief, as the shoes she’d bought for that evening were far more uncomfortable than she could have imagined.

She said brief hellos to a few people she vaguely recognized as she passed by, following the small crowd down the stairs to the lounge and bar beneath them. She held onto the railing for dear life, trying to walk as fast as possible even though she was one of the youngest and, therefore, fastest at the event. Her heels were both unstable and very high, and along with the fact that she could feel them digging into her ankles, she was surprised when she made it down the stairs without crying out in pain.

Despite how quickly the bar and surrounding tables were filling, light jazz played overhead, making the atmosphere feel slightly more relaxed than upstairs. She glanced around the room, finding a table near the window and heading towards it.

“Mrs. Han!” someone called out, startling her. She jumped, turning to her left as a man she hadn’t met before approached her with a friendly smile. Smiling back, she bowed to him and chuckled to herself.

“I’m not quite Mrs. Han yet, but I’m glad I can already respond to the name,” she smiled, seeing the man furrow his eyebrows.

“Forgive me! You’re only recently engaged, am I right?” he wondered, reaching out to shake her hand. She met him halfway, surprised at how strong of a grip he had.

“Right,” she nodded. He let go of her right hand, pointing at her left.

“May I?” he asked, and she lifted her hand in confusion. She understood as he gently held her hand, greatly contrasting the shake they’d just shared, and looked down through his glasses at her engagement ring.

“You can tell a lot through the ring,” he mumbled, pulling her hand closer.

“Is that so?” she laughed, watching him examine it closely. He blinked a couple of times before grunting and patting her hand in finality.

“It’ll do,” he nodded, flashing a smile at her. She laughed a little, glancing at it herself and smiling.

“I’ll let him know you approve, Mr…” she started, trailing off once she realized she didn’t know who she was speaking to.

“How rude of me not to introduce myself. I’m the head of PK Holdings, a company very involved with your fiancé’s,” he explained, clasping his hands behind his back. Her eyebrows raised in recognition even though he still hadn’t given his name, remembering that Jumin had called him out as someone who would probably approach one or both at the gala that night.

“Mr. Park! It’s so lovely to finally meet you,” she grinned, watching the older man blink at her in surprise. “Jumin has told me how easy it is to work with you.” The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile briefly before he let out a bellowing laugh, making her laugh a little in both surprise and amusement.

“That boy,” he chuckled, smoothing his tie and shaking his head with a fond smile. “Ah! I believe he’s waiting for you, so I won’t keep you any longer. I’m looking forward to your wedding,” he said, drawing her eyes to the bar behind them, where Jumin was picking up two drinks.

“Thank you, Mr. Park. I’ll see you again soon,” she smiled, throwing him a small wave as she started over to Jumin. Their eyes met as he turned around, his expression briefly softening before he seemed to notice something.

“Jumin,” she sighed happily, receiving her glass of champagne from him. He leaned down to kiss her cheek, giving her goosebumps.

“How did you fare with Mr. Park?” he wondered, finding her hand at her side and placing it on his arm as they walked towards the windows.

“He examined my ring for a good 30 seconds,” she snickered, gladly hanging on his arm as she tried to steady herself and avoid any pain points with her heels. Jumin hummed thoughtfully, taking her hand and holding it as she sat down at the table they’d chosen so she could steady herself.

“That indeed sounds like him,” he mused, sitting across from her and undoing his jacket button. They both took a sip of their drinks, him of his wine and her of her bubbles.

“He said “It’ll do,” she relayed, watching as Jumin looked the slightest bit offended.

“It’ll do,” he repeated lowly, leaning back in his chair and looking out at the view. “I would be interested to see his opinion change when he sees your wedding band.” She pressed her lips together, her tongue tingling from the champagne, and butterflies began to swirl in her stomach. She couldn’t help the rampant excitement whenever they mentioned the big day.

“He seemed very nice,” she continued, beginning to cross one leg over the other to get comfortable but deciding against it. Putting too much weight on one foot hurt too much at that point, and when she instinctively reached down to rub her ankles, she played it off as fixing the skirt of her dress. They only had a few more hours here, and she didn’t want Jumin to leave the event early for something so trivial.

“Judging our relationship based on the choice of ring is very nice, yes,” Jumin teased, making her roll her eyes and smirk.

“Either way, I’m glad I was prepared for tonight,” she noted, seeing him tilt his head.

“Our preparations helped?” She nodded and took another sip, thinking about all the slideshows that Jaehee and Jumin had prepared to help her begin to memorize all of the most important people who would be there that night.

“If I’m going to be a regular guest at your company’s events, it would be good to know as much as I can,” she replied, seeing Jumin nod thoughtfully.

“Do let me know if it overwhelms you,” he murmured, meeting her eyes again. She smiled, shaking her head.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, how can the future wife of the future chairman be clueless?” she teased, watching a small smirk grace his lips.

“I like that title for you—future wife of the future chairman. Rolls off the tongue,” he said, jesting back at her. She chuckled, rolling her eyes again and looking out at the crowds that began to gather at the larger tables.

“Where to next?” she wondered. “I’m sure you have a list of people you need to speak with tonight.” Jumin slowly turned the wine glass as it sat on the table, not meeting her eyes.

“My list was short, and therefore I have already completed it,” he said, looking up at her. She furrowed her eyebrows, waiting for the punchline. “Besides, this wine tastes horrible. How could I stay any longer?” There it was. She scoffed, standing up and avoiding scrunching her face up in pain. Her calves were becoming sore, and her toes felt like they would be pressed together for the rest of time.

“Come on,” she laughed, holding a hand out for him and grabbing her glass. “I’ll come with you.” Jumin stood to meet her, buttoning his jacket again and keeping her gaze.

“I wasn’t joking, my love. I’ve talked to everyone I needed to already,” he reiterated, pulling her hand to his and intertwining their fingers. She searched his eyes, wondering if maybe he just didn’t want to admit he was tired. He returned her stare, looking lovingly back at her. She couldn’t help but give in, raising her eyebrows in mild surprise.

“In that case, I suppose we could meander our way to the exit,” she shrugged, placing her glass back down and squeezing his hand.

“Perfect,” he smiled, holding her hand at his side and walking a pace in front of her to lead the way.

Multiple people greeted them as they walked past, but no one tried to stop them for a conversation. She could have sworn that there were far more people that Jumin should have talked to, but those thoughts quickly shifted back to focusing on walking as painlessly as possible. After a few moments, she linked her arm with Jumin’s again, using him for support while being as subtle as possible about it.

A moment of relief came in the elevator, and she leaned against his shoulder to look up at him.

“Would you like to pop open a bottle of something you’ll actually enjoy once we’re home?” she wondered, seeing him smile and glance down at her.

“Among other things,” he nodded, making her bite the tip of her tongue and watch the elevator descend through the floors instead.

Once they arrived on the ground floor, she steeled herself for only a few more minutes of the horrible heels she’d chosen. It was like the universe knew that she was almost done, making the walk through the lobby the most painful part of the night thus far.

“Darling,” he called, making her tense and wonder if he had noticed her struggling after all. “There is a professional photographer near the door. Would you like to take a picture? You are absolutely stunning tonight,” he wondered, slowing to a halt as he gauged her reaction. She glanced over, seeing two chairs in front of a camera on a tripod.

“I’d love to,” she smiled, looking down at her dress and smoothing it out. “I would hate to forget my first corporate gala.” Jumin let out a short laugh through his nose, leading her over to the photographer.

“Good evening, Mr. Han,” the young man greeted them, readying his camera quickly. “It would be my pleasure to photograph you two. May I suggest some poses?”

“I would like most of them with my fianceé in the chair. Her dress and posture will make for a gorgeous picture, don’t you think?” Jumin gushed, making her hands tremble slightly as she sat down. The photographer instructed Jumin where to stand and how to place his hands, one of them draped over the back of the chair so that his fingertips brushed her shoulder.

“And now, miss, if you would move your hand over your lap– perfect! Let’s take a few shots with this pose,” he said excitedly, the shutter clicking as he took multiple pictures quickly.

After a few more poses, Jumin deemed that enough and handed the man a small stack of cash.

“Thank you,” she smiled at the photographer, moving to stand before Jumin placed a hand over hers on the arm of the chair. She blinked up at him, resting her weight back down on the cushion as he moved to kneel in front of her.

“What is it?” she wondered, seeing him adjusting the skirt of her dress.

“Uncross your legs for me,” he spoke softly, making heat flush under her skin as his fingers slipped around her ankle. She did as he said, her heart racing as he carefully slipped her heels off. Her anticipation boiled down to confusion as he dusted them off and handed them to her. She took them hesitantly, looking to Jumin for an explanation.

“Would it be alright if I carried you?” he asked, looking up at her from where he kneeled. She blinked at him, opening her mouth for a moment before speaking.

“Sure, Jumin, but–” She stopped as he wrapped a hand around her waist to pull her towards the front of her chair, looping his other arm beneath her knees. He picked her up and pulled her to his chest with ease, making sure her skirt was appropriately draped as she made multiple noises of confusion and surprise. Someone opened the door to the venue for them to exit, but she could barely hear it over the sound of her heart racing at the unexpected situation.

She had forgotten about the reporters outside, flinching as a flurry of clicks and flashes started around her. Instinctively, she turned her face away, pressing her cheek into Jumin’s chest as he walked without hesitation.

“Mr. Han!”

“Is she injured?”

“What dress is she wearing?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling embarrassment flood her body as she imagined all the articles already being written. Jumin remained quiet, walking a few more paces until she heard a car door open. He lowered her down, helping her into the car while serving as a barrier between her and the cameras. She threw the heels on the floor, covering her face and folding over on herself. She groaned, feeling Jumin settle in beside her and close the car door.

“Jumin, what was that?” she asked through her hands, wanting to flop onto his lap but also wanting to hear his explanation before she showed him affection of any kind.

“I could tell as soon as you stood up from our dinner table that your heels were causing you tremendous pain. Why didn’t you say anything, my love?” he wondered, making her squint up at him through her hands.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing,” she responded, grateful when Driver Kim pulled away from the curb. She sat up straight, kicking at one of the heels absentmindedly.

“Your health and comfort are anything but nothing,” he replied, reaching over to take her hand and lift it to his lips for a gentle string of kisses.

“The universe will punish you somehow for this,” she grumbled with a small smile she was trying to restrain.

“For taking care of my fianceé? I hardly think so,” he disagreed, putting their intertwined hands in his lap and looking at her.

“I appreciate what you did, Jumin, but I really would have been okay for a few more steps,” she explained, watching him rub her fingers thoughtfully.

“I was just practicing for when I carry you over the threshold,” he said quietly, making her chuckle.

“I should have guessed you would want to. You’re so superstitious,” she scoffed teasingly as he looked up with a slight pout that always managed to get him out of trouble.

“I can’t take any chances,” he replied, making her laugh and give up on making him regret what he’d done.

“You’re unbearable,” she lied, watching his face relax at the sound of her laugh. He leaned over to kiss her cheek tenderly, making her stomach flip.

“Now, which sales associate helped you with these Louboutins?” he wondered quietly, his face still close to hers. She met his eyes, her stare narrowing at him.

“Leave Jinsoo alone, please,” she sighed, knowing he could find out what he wanted to know within minutes, even if she wouldn’t tell him.

“Ah, Jinsoo. My next target,” he said menacingly, making her stare at him before bursting into laughter again. He watched her with a growing smile, stroking his chin like he was a villain deep in thought.

“Jumin, please. She’s only doing her job,” she said through her laughter, knowing he was completely joking.

“I will have my revenge,” he muttered, pushing her to laugh again and lean into his side. He gave in and laughed with her, pulling her closer as she continued to fight for the saleslady until Jumin gave up his playful charade.

Their ride home was full of laughter, and he promised to help her soothe her feet at home, utterly content that he had made her smile again.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

hello!! thank you so much for reading this! and thank you all so much for all the support I've received already this week <3 it means so so much to me!

stay tuned for the last two days! thank you again!

Mel x

[jumin-love]

@juminweek2019

Day 1 | Happy Birthday | Family | RFA

"So many choices, but which beverage shall I select?.  Mi, miya, meow, meoow.  I can understand everything you say, Elizabeth.”

[anon-drabble]

a family lost ch 2

ch 1 | ch 3 |

okay! day 2! theme is caged | touched

if you couldn't tell, the plot really came for me today so i'm getting really excited about this week now! 👍 i have no idea for tomorrow though, since fairy tale and au are already here in this fic. 😂

anyways i hope you enjoy even though this au is overdone and cliche. it's hopefully still going to be a good read!

@juminweek2019

a03 | ko-fi | twitter

preview: 

The problem now was how would she ever find the kingdom where they hid the children they took? It certainly wasn't on a map. Other-worldly creatures had ways to hide, they possessed magic that the humans did not. And while humans were known for being stubborn and determined, that alone would not be magic enough to get her sister back. Then there was the added potential problem of getting out with her sister. There hadn't been a tale yet of a human who saw the fae's land and lived to tell of the experiences. But in addition to stubbornness and determination, MC had very little fear within her.

The problem now was how would she ever find the kingdom where they hid the children they took? It certainly wasn't on a map. Other-worldly creatures had ways to hide, they possessed magic that the humans did not. And while humans were known for being stubborn and determined, that alone would not be magic enough to get her sister back. Then there was the added potential problem of getting out with her sister. There hadn't been a tale yet of a human who saw the fae's land and lived to tell of the experiences. But in addition to stubbornness and determination, MC had very little fear within her. 

Getting in would not be a problem. She had an idea for that. Dangerous, foolhardy, and deadly. But an idea. You see, getting in would be all too easy. She promptly stood up, the two fae-folk still close enough that she could overhear them. And with pride and a loud voice, she announced her intentions in no uncertain tones. 

"The King must be weak indeed to employ such incompetents. Getting the children of my village back will be shamefully easy. Never have I heard of the once-proud fae being ruled by one so incompetent as your new king must be! He shall never make it to his next birthday!" 

Her words worked. The fae turned on her, and were upon her in a flash.She was gagged, blindfolded, and trussed before she could say another word. The important thing is that they didn't kill her outright. She heard them muttering but with all the things going on, she couldn't make out clear words. Something perhaps about "how?" and "the glow", but she expected it was likely the lantern in her possession. Fancy fire confounded them, perhaps. Next came the darkness. By that, I mean the being knocked unconscious. 

MC remained asleep for a long while. Was she tired or was the blow to her head that severe? Or maybe it was some sort of sleeping magic. Either way, when she awoke, she was certainly in another world. It almost looked to be underground. There was no light above and hardly any illumination at all. The plants around emitted a faint blue and green glow that illuminated the environment. The ground appeared to be stone, a gray color with veins that faintly glimmered like gems. The "ceiling" or maybe the sky, something dark and vast above her head, had many hanging plants. Some obviously carnivorous, waiting with open buds, dripping what was likely acid down below. Where the plant saliva pooled, strange-looking fungus grew. It appeared soft and cushioned like moss but upon a closer look, the individual leafs were razor-tipped mushrooms. Touching one would likely instantly cut her skin. Perhaps poison her as well. She found herself to be grateful to be in a cage as it seemed to be the safest spot for a human. 

"Behind you," a voice said as her eyes were still taking in her surroundings. But she turned. Upon what was painfully obviously a throne sat what looked like a young man. Jet black hair, a very human appearance, except for his piercing eyes that felt far more magical than any other aspect. Or so she thought until he spoke again. His voice remained low, deep, but it reverberated within her. It compelled her to strain her ears to pick up every sound he made. The voice and the sound forced her to turn her entire attention to him and to notice nothing else. And she felt herself sway. Not physically but mentally. Like she was being made to obey his words. Like she might forget her original mission to save her sister and instead remain the servant of the owner of that voice. 

"The King of the fae-folk, I assume." Her voice cracked, though she tried to sound brave and confident. 

"I am. It has been a many long eons since I have seen your kind," he replied. His voice sounded neutral but his words confused her. 

"A human? Don't be silly, your kind has been stealing from us for years! You took my sister from me! Don't tell me you've never seen a human,"' she huffed, her anger making her eyes flash. 

He blinked, the first sign of, well, any sense that he wasn't bored to tears. "I understand. You do not but I will not shed any light on this matter for you. I may have commanded my kind to take your sister. You believe you can rescue her?" he asked and she felt her confidence waver as his voice settled over her. That cloud of obedience threatening to blind her to everything else. 

She shook her head, struggling to keep her mind clear of his influence. "Yes. I can outsmart some wannabe king who doesn't know what he's doing." 

He didn't react to her insults. "Mm, yes, you're very intimidating in that cage. But there is something perhaps dangerously beautiful about a creature caged as you are. I am in need of a wife." He stood and approached her cage slowly, like a predator cornering its prey. "Perhaps I will just keep you here. A thrall from the king will never wear off." He leaned close to the cage, his deep eyes boring holes into her. "You'd never think of escape again."

She felt shivers run down her spine. She had no doubt he could do exactly what he said. What she did doubt for the first time was her ability to get her sister back without losing something else in the process. "W-Wouldn't it be terribly beneath you to have a human for a queen?" she croaked, her voice betraying her fear. 

"Indeed. It would be," he said, though he didn't back off, instead holding her gaze. He knew something she didn't, probably many things she didn't know. She hated not knowing, and hated the power he had without even trying. 

"It would be terribly beneath me to marry the likes of you, even in a forced marriage," she managed to spit, her bravado flaring up and flickering out almost immediately. 

But his eyes flashed with anger and he turned and left her alone without another word. Alone in her cage. That was what she wanted but she suddenly felt so empty and defeated. She fell to her knees, put her head in her hands, and tried to force every trace of him outside of her. The cage would be far easier to escape than he would be, she knew. His presence was strong, terrifying, and seductive. She'd heard of humans going made from a fae's magic. Was this what that was? Or was it something more? One of the many things she didn't understand?