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between night and morning - day three
@juminweek2019
jumin x mc
rating:Â T
prompt:Â green daylily - romantic love, "forgetting painful events from the past," "the flower that helps forget"
warnings: nightmares, slight spoilers for Jumin's route
word count:Â 1.4k
ao3 link
Jumin wakes from a nightmare and goes searching for comfort.
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JuminâŚJuminâŚ
JUMIN!
Jumin snapped awake, jostling his chair and inhaling raggedly. He looked around, seeing that he was still in his living room and most importantly, still alone.
Jumin leaned forward and put his head in his hands, unable to shake himself from the nightmare heâd been awoken from quite yet. It was one in the same vein as they all were; memories heâd tried to forget even though he knew he couldnât. Memories from his and his fatherâs past.
Jumin wiped the sweat from his brow and worked on slowing his breathing, keeping his eyes open and focused on the carpet beneath his chair. When heâd calmed down just slightly, he sat back up, glancing over at the paperwork heâd been working on before he unfortunately dozed off.
His eyes ached at the tiny print on the paper, and just as soon as he picked it up, Jumin put it back down and sighed slowly. He felt useless for so many reasons, and having that ridiculous nightmare made him feel less and less in control. He needed to be in control, in that moment more than ever.
An image of her flashed in his mind. His heart palpitated strangely, like it had been doing for the past few days, but it wasnât dizzying anxiety like heâd felt just moments previous. If anything, thinking of the woman in his bed nearly made him forget why he was so on edge in the first place.
Jumin took a deep breath before he stood from his chair. After not moving for quite some time, the tension in his body was uncomfortable. He started towards his bedroom, remembering all heâd said to her last night as he felt his body untie some of its knots.
As he approached the door, he heard her light breathing and couldnât help but smile. Peeking in, he admired the way she looked so peaceful, so carefree. He was sincerely thankful that she was able to get rest, despite all of the events that had transpired over the past week. He felt a flash of envy before it melted into gratitude for her presence.
How could he bear to let her go in the morning?
Jumin had taken a step into the room before heâd thought about it, unable to think of a reason that made sense for him not to move closer.
He stopped just next to the bed, able to hear her breathing much more clearly and realizing his own breaths had calmed back to normal.
Staring down at her, the only label for the emotion that was burning in his chest was love. He was in love with her. The feeling itself was not what frightened him, but the thought was horrifying. How could he love someone, let alone someone heâd met only days ago?
In multiple instances, his father had been beguiled by women he mistakenly put his trust in. He watched him ponder over it and inevitably give in, no matter how much Jumin urged him to see reason. Eventually, Jumin stopped trying.
But as soon as he no longer outwardly cared, thatâs when those women began to focus on him too. The thought nearly brought him back into his nightmare, blinding rage flashing across his vision.
MC shifted in the bed in front of him, pulling him from his thoughts. It felt almost wrong to be upset in her presence. How could he lose himself in thought when she was right in front of him?
Jumin sat down slowly, working to clear his mind as he watched her sleeping peacefully. His eyes scanned over her face, taking a long look at her lips. Her kiss was like magic, some kind of force heâd only read about in books. Thinking of her smile made his chest feel fuzzy, and when he moved to look down at himself out of slight worry, Jumin realized heâd laid down next to her.
He paused, feeling his heart rate quicken. He had never lost control like he did when he was with her. It perplexed him, but he was equally as confused as to why he didnât want that fact to change.
She was so close to him in that moment, so beautiful and so serene. His hand moved out towards her, lingering above her face before he brushed the back of his index finger along her cheek. Her deep breaths shallowed, prompting Jumin to wonder about how heavily she slept.
Taking his hand back, he waited as she returned to a deeper sleep, his eyelids growing heavier as he lay beside her. After a moment, he reached out again, pulling the blanket back over her shoulder. This time, he couldnât pull away, and he rested his hand on her upper arm. She was warm, contrasting with his cool hand. He felt the hairs stand up on his arm, his fingers tightening around her minutely. She reacted with a short, low hum from the back of her throat, but she didnât move an inch.
Despite the feeling that was burning in his throat, Jumin decided to let her rest, praying that he would have time to explore his curiosities on another calmer night.
A thought flashed in his mind for him to remove himself from the bed, from her arm, but the thought was quickly buried by fatigue. Jumin worked to keep his eyes open, to look at her for just a second longer, but his exhaustion got the better of him.
Hours later, when the sun had begun to rise, Jumin innately roused. Some days he wished that his bodily rhythm would allow for longer sleep, especially this past week.
He willed his eyes open, starting to sigh before his breath caught in his throat in panic. Her face was inches from his, and as the blood began to rush through his body, he realized that she was touching him too. She was still asleep, breathing slowly as Jumin looked down to see both her hands outstretched to him. One of them was draped over his upper arm, her hand reaching down towards his back, and the other had a small handful of his shirt. It had come slightly untucked in the night, leaving just enough fabric to be gripped by her hand just above his heart.
Jumin looked over her features, knowing that his heart should be racing with anger, resentment, or guilt. But when he searched, there was nothing but peace and eagerness to learn more about her. To hold her like she was holding him, and to love and cherish her for the amazing soul sheâd offered to him in kindness. He would forever be indebted to her for the solace sheâd provided him in his lowest moments.
Jumin watched her until drowsiness began to take over him once more. He was tempted to stay, to let her hold him as long as she wanted, but he knew he needed to keep himself grounded. It was important for him to let her go today or else there would be no possibility of them being together in the future. He had to regrettably detach from her, just for today, just enough to let her leave, so that he could be bound to her forever.
Jumin longed to reach forward and press a kiss to her cheek, her forehead, her nose, but he didnât want to wake her so early. He slowly began to move backward out of her embrace, holding his breath as she twitched and took her arm back. But her hand still gripped his shirt, and even as he continued to move, that fact didnât change.
Jumin reached down, his fingertips brushing over her wrist as a test before he gently placed his hand over hers. Hooking his pinkie finger under hers, he pulled her hand from his shirt achingly slow, nearly hearing his heart rate pick up as she latched on to his finger instead. Jumin placed their joint hands on the bed in front of him, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb until he could pull his finger free. The loss of warmth from her touch made his chest ache in a way he had become too familiar with these past few days, but he steeled himself.
Standing from the bed, he imagined himself waking up with her every day, kissing her good morning, and leaving her to sleep more. Jumin felt a small smile come to his lips, shaking his head and lightly scolding himself for daydreaming.
Taking one last look at her, he left the room, closing the door behind himself and realizing he finally felt rested.
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thank you for reading! thank for you for all the support on my first two days! I have had long nights and work, so I know I'm late, and then on top of that, I got a concussion this morning...
but! I'm still going strong, and I'll do my best to catch up! (even though I shouldn't be looking at screens ladglsjbgljgb)
mel x
#juminweek2024#jujuw24#jujuw24d3#jumin#han jumin#mystic messenger#mysme#my writing#mysme fanfic#mystic messenger fanfic#jumin week#jumin han#route spoilers#jumins route
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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 breatheâuntil 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?âthough 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, Iâno. 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 teaâfor those tea leaves could be reproduced but you were one of a kindâwanted 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!
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#jumin week 2023#jujuw23d3#xela writes#jumin han x you#jumin x reader#jumin han fluff#mysme jumin#jumin han#mm jumin#mystic messenger#mystic messenger fanfic#jumin han fic
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Jumin Week 2024 News: Late submissions and new rules!
Juju Week is over đ¤ˇ
As mentioned in an ask, we'll be receiving submissions for Jumin Week till the end of October (the deadline can be extended if requested but not indefinitely) , the only new rule is to @juminweek2019
Seeing the low participation for this year, this is the last year we are having Jumin Week (because I don't see Mysme 2 happening in the future right??) so this is your last chance to participate đą
I even thought of receiving submissions for the prompts of past years and adding it to the masterlist under the category "Jumin Month" (in case someone has an abandoned wip) but idk, let me know if you like the idea đ¤ˇ
#let's give Juju the proper send off#for the han!!!#jumin han#mystic messenger#mysme#mysme jumin#jumin week#jumin week 2024#jujuw24
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null hypothesis
jumin week day 6, physical touch
@juminweek2019
jumin x reader, 1250 words
âĄ
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 didnât make sense, anyway â 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 partnersâ arms haphazardly thrown over his shoulders at corporate parties, as if theyâre 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 didnât bother Jumin, not being touched. He didnât want to touch others just as much as heâd rather they didnât touch him; he felt no need to instigate it outside of situations where good manners called for it. Frankly, he couldnât even begin to enlighten someone on how to initiate human contact in a way that doesnât 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 â 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, heâd tell you).
Even still, in the very beginning he didnât 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 itâd take time for him to find his way; if he wasnât touchy you wouldnât push the boundary of touch. Still, sometimes youâd 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 urgeâa longingâthat 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. Heâd 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 wasnât 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, âI have a proposal.â
âAnother? So soon? I already said yes,â you tease.
He chuckles. âIndeed. 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 youâd be so kind as to assist me in something.â
âAnything,â you tell him. âThough itâs nothing nefarious, I hope?â
His brows furrow slightly and he looks to where your hands are locked together. âYou do not take me for a criminal, do you? In that case, itâs rather irresponsible that you should stay so contentedly in my company, let alone accept my request regardless.â
A smile breaks your feigned seriousness. âI know youâre a good man, Jumin.â The concern fades away from his eyes as he looks back to you and fondly shakes his head. âBut hypothetically, I never said I wouldnât help you commit crimes,â you add.
âIâll keep that in mind,â he says through an amused exhale.
âGood. Then tell me, whatâs my assistance needed for?â
âAn experiment.â
âIâm intrigued.â
âThen allow me to explain,â Jumin says. âI 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.â
âIn what sense?â
He raises an eyebrow and a smile threatens the corners of his lips. âI am simply speaking in general terms. Though I would not be opposed to more sex, too.â
He doesnât miss the twinkle in your eyes (and he does smile, then).
âErgo,â he continues with a giddiness uncharacteristically present on his tongue, âI 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.â
âYou 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 elseâs hands.â You lean in and kiss him in the way that always leaves him half-dizzy and wanting more; chaste but playful; almost saccharine. âBut Iâll take good care of it.â
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 â thatâs 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 wonât 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 itâs you.
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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! EspĂŠrate allĂ, amorcitoâun 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.
"DarlingâŚ" Jumin scans the room and notices the two little mugs of hot espresso.
"QuĂŠ 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."
#mystic messenger#mysme#jumin han#mysme jumin#mystic messenger jumin#juminweek2023#jujuw23d1#the way i busted this out during my lunchbreak#i cant miss his birthday. every year i try to do a little something for him đĽş
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MYSME FICTOBER DAY 10/JUMIN WEEK DAY 6
@mysme-fictober & @juminweek2019
Michael's Edition
10 October 2023âGRAVESTONE Jumin WeekâPhysical Touch
âThatâs morbid.â Jumin said as he watched his wife step away from the headstone sheâd just set on their front yard. It read âJumin Han, beloved husband and fatherâ with a death date of the current year, beneath that it read âLillie Han, beloved wife and motherâ, with the same death date. âAt least we died together apparently.â
âWe did, in a car accident, quite tragic really.â Lillie quipped.
âAnd, how many children did we leave behind?â
âFive.â
âFive? Goodness, weâve been busy.â He laughed. Lillie hugged him close, placing her hand between his shoulder blades. She could feel him shiver beneath her touch. The man was jelly in her hands.
âWe have!â
âWhoâs going to take care of them now?â he asked, the feel of her against his body sending a thrill through him as always.
âHmm, maybe Yoosung?â she said.
âYoosung? He canât even take care of himself. Heâd let them run all over him. I think not.â He laughed.
âOh, donât be silly, Yoosung would love them unconditionally, besides, he has Saeran to help.â
Jumin arched an eyebrow. âWell, I suppose our friends would step up wouldnât they?â
âYes, now, want to help me with Elizabeth 3rdâs gravestone too?â
âWhat?â he said, âSheâs gone too?â
âYes, she was in the car with us, we were taking her to the vet because she was sick. Thankfully driver Kim wasnât driving, now that would be tragic.â She laughed.
âHa ha, come back here. I think I need some intimacy after all of this tragedy.â He pulled her towards him cupping her face gently and kissed her. âI just need to feel you close my love.â
âI love you.â She said, gazing into his eyes. âWhy donât we go inside and maybe we can get started on those five kids.â She teased.
Jumin smirked as he scooped her up in his arms and headed into the house. âLetâs!â
#a day late#mysmefictober2023#day 10#Gravestone#Jumin Han#Juminweek2023#day 6#Physical Touch#JuminXLillie#OCLillie#mysme#mystic messenger#super short#but at least I got it out#what a day
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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
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Day 2 - Touched - EDIT : my sleep deprived self forgot to add the context  context : ââ Jumin tries to wake you up after last nightâs heated love session , but you decide to mess with him by not waking up and trying your best to pretend to be alseep ââ translation : WARNING : I donât know korean, I just used the exact translation in the game: 00:42 - ââDearââ 00:46 - ââprincessââ 00:54 - ââyes/ Thatâs rightââ 1:01 - ââ Iâm upââ 1:02 - ââhmââ? 1:04 - ââThat Face?ââ 1:09 - ââAre you playing with me?ââ 1:13 - ââoh, are you pretending to be asleep?ââ 1:22- ââI like seeing you make that faceââ 1:27 - ââBut I enjoy looking at your wide eyes more so I will wake you up with a kissââ 1:49 - ââHow about itââ 2:03 - ââ Do you understand my struggle now?ââ 2:11 - ââ Your face is red. Are you having a fever?ââ 2:18 - ââWell.. I tend to have a lower body temperatureââ 2:27 - ââSo youâd be the perfect temperature in my armsââ 2:33 - ââ ..Why donât you come closer? just a little bit.ââ 2:38 - ââ Hm?âŚI donât want thatâŚdonât turn your back on meââ 2:44 - ââ Yes, keep your chin up like thatââ 2:49 - ââI want to see youââ 3:00 - ââToo late to regret it now .. youâre the one who started it..Come to meââ
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  itâs not the best of quality itâs been almost a year and i still donât know what iâm doing   but in all honesty I enjoyed making this little clip. Iâd like to thank my amazing friends over at discord especially the amazing đđ @fandomplethora đđ and the insanely talented artist that reached to me and give some much needed material đ Franjipanitree [Anj] đ i still canât believe i got to talk to both of you  đđ thank you all for helping me and answering all of my pointless random questions, love you all.Â
đđ
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Day Two: Touch
Positive touch wasn't something Jumin was used to. He wouldn't call his father a cold man, but he certainly wasn't the type of father who would often give physical affection to his son. His mother... his mother was never around. Even when she was there, she wasn't truly there. But he still soaked up the little bit of affection gave him.
Then came the wandering touches of those who wanted something from him. Money, fame, accusations that could be pulled out years in the future. These touches made him never want to be touched again.
He was labeled cold at that point by the media, but unfortunately the label didn't create a deterrent. Instead, they seemed to take it as a challenge. Who could bag the man made of ice?
He hated them.
For a while, Elizabeth's soft touch was the only thing he could stomach.
But then that changed. Jumin met her and found that her touch didn't send the shudders of revulsion down his spine. Despite being told to stay in the apartment, he'd come across her walking down the sidewalk as he left work for the night.
"What are you doing?" Jumin asked. She jumped at the sudden question, but then looked at him sheepishly.
"I... got hungry." She offered with a weak smile. Jumin nodded, pushing open the car door.
"Get in, I'll take you to dinner."
He ended up taking her back to the penthouse, pulling extra ingredients out of the fridge to create dinner for her as well. He had been stirring a pot when he suddenly felt a hand gently touch his back as she leaned forward to look at what he was doing.
"Oh! Sorry. I'm a little touchy." She said with an awkward laugh once she noticed him staring at her in confusion.
"No. It's... it's fine." Jumin managed to mumble, stating back at the pot.
"Are you sure?" She asked, concern flooding her voice. It was clear to her that the simple touch had actually bothered him.
"It's okay. I didn't mind it." Jumin said, confident in his answer. It had been okay.
And now they were together and it was more than okay. Now she was like a source of energy for him. One long hug from her could wipe away a weeks worth of exhaustion.
He came home from the office to find her sitting on the couch going through the RFA emails. Without a word, he flopped over on the couch, suit and all. She laughed as his head found it's way into her lap and she set her phone down so she could run her fingers through his hair.
"Long day?" She asked gently.
"Unbelievably." Jumin mumbled before nuzzling his face into her stomach. She giggled at the sensation it caused and skritched her fingers along his scalp.
"You're just like a cat." She mused. Jumin smiled slightly, and he was positive that she could feel it as she laughed. He already felt like he could take on the world again. Not that he ever wanted to move from this spot. Unable to stop himself he spoke.
"Meow~"
#mystic messenger#jumin han#jumin/mc#mysme#juminweek2019#my writing#me last post#jumin isnt a tilda kind of guy#jumin this post#meow~~~~~~~~
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Beef Wellington
Jumin Week
Day One - Birthday
~~~
What should you give to a man who has everything?
Food, of course.
But Juminâs lack of interest in sweets daunted you. You were a baker at heart - you loved to dip your fingers in frosting and cookie batter, and Jumin preferred steak and foie gras.
Those were one in the same right?
You tried to follow several celebrity chefs - Gordon Ramsay and Jaime Oliver specifically - but to no avail. Too many dishes were either burnt to a crisp or overcooked - a nice and more roundabout way to say burnt.
You werenât about to give in so easily, however. This was for your husband, the absolute and undeniable love of your life. You were going to make him the fanciest dinner he had ever set his eyes on, and you were going to be successful.
âŚ
âBeef fillet. Lean meat with little fine sinews of fat running through. It just melts in your mouth like butter. Seasoned.â
You lightly seasoned the fillet with salt and pepper, eyes glued to the overhanging tablet. With Gordon Ramsay as your instructor, what could go wrong?
âHot pan, olive oil.â
You moved your hand over a cast-iron skillet and delicately poured olive oil⌠and winced as the oil hopped and skipped from the pan onto you.
âOw, ow!!â You yanked the skillet from the stove and yelped once it hit the floor, almost smashing your toes.
âSeal. Mustard. Think about it. Fillet beef wellington, English mustard. You arenât gonna put dijon on there, are you?â
You grabbed a cloth and plopped the skillet back onto the stove. âSlow down, Mister Ramsay! Okay, where⌠where is my mustard⌠wait, how long do I cook the beef?!â
âMushrooms. Seasoned. Blitz.â
âWhatâs a blitz?!â
Frazzled, you gathered your mushrooms and threw them into the food processor, switching it on shortly after.
âNow, weâve got to take the water out of the mushrooms.â
You brushed your hair away from your face with a huff. âWha - Iâm not done blitzing Mister Ramsay, I still donât know what a blitz is!â
âLook how wet they are. You donât put oil or butter into the pan. You put nothing in there.â
âOh my god.â With a pop, you shut off the drowning noises from the machine.
âLook how much waterâs coming out now.â
A frustrated huff followed by a roll of the eyes. âI canât Mister Ramsay, Iâm not there yet.â
âDarling?â
âBah!!â
Splat.
It all happened so quickly. You couldnât make heads or tails of it - one second you were scooping the processed mushrooms from the processor, the next⌠it was on your husbandâs chest.
â... I am so sorry Jumin, are you okay?!â
Jumin gathered the mushroom concoction onto the tip of his finger, licking it and lightly smacking his lips.
âNo, oh my gosh, please donât eat that,â you sighed while dabbing his vest and tie with a wet cloth. âWelcome homeâŚâ
âYou donât seem very enthused,â Jumin chuckled lightly, swiping the mushroom on your nose and shifting your chin upward.
âSorry,â you smiled weakly, swiping the mushroom from your nose. âI wanted⌠I was hoping to make you Beef Wellington.â
Juminâs fingers tenderly massaged your arms. âBeef Wellington? Gordon Ramsayâs recipe?â
âYes,â you pouted. âItâs your birthday and itâs such a special day, so why not go all out you know? It isnât coming together, thoughâŚâ
âCome now, darling,â Jumin lightly chastised you, pinching your cheek. âYouâre far too hard on yourself. Weâll make it together, hm?â
âNo, this is for you to enjoy!â
âI enjoy spending time with my wife,â Jumin crooned, wrapping his arms around your waist.
â... Youâre still so smooth. For an old man, that is.â
He laughed heartily, digging his fingers into your stomach and tickling you mercilessly. âExcuse you?â
âJu-Jumin!! Stop!!â You pried his hands from your stomach, lightly kissing his knuckles.
He turned his palm up and cupped your cheek, stroking your cheekbone. âShall we, my love?â
âYeahâŚâ You beamed. âYeah, letâs do it.â
âŚ
âAssemble. Clean film.â
Both you and Jumin stared blankly at the ingredients. The tablet was greased with fingerprints and olive oil, the Parma ham lay abused from repetitive folds⌠and there was still remnants of mushroom on Juminâs vest.
âYeah, this uh⌠this isnât gonna happen,â you shook your head.
â... What does blitz mean darling?â
âI still donât know!!â You giggled, dabbing your husbandâs vest.
âThank you,â Jumin hummed, his hand gripping your fingers delicately.
âFor what, the mess I created?â You teased.
âPrecisely that. We can spend more time with each other cleaning everything up. Itâs the perfect end to a perfect day.â
âYouâre adorable, Jumin.â You tugged his tie down and planted a wet kiss on his cheek. âHappy birthday, honey⌠Iâm about to get sappy and emotional, but you mean the world to me, and Iâm so⌠Iâm so happy youâre here.â
He closed his eyes, pulling your hand to his cheek and affectionately kissed your palm. âI was born for you, my love. I was born to love and adore you, and to be loved and adored by you.â
âYou were born to fulfill your dreams and your desires, Jumin!â You beamed, blushing madly.
âYou are my dream. And you are my desire. I need nothing else.â
â... Youâre going to make me melt. How you come up with these things is beyond me.â
Jumin chuckled gently, tucking his fingers under your chin and kissing you devotedly. âI was a poet in a past life.â
âI thought you donât believe in past lives!â
âI didnât believe in a lot of things until you came along, lady.â
Dazed yet entranced, you cupped his cheeks and smooshed them lightly, arousing him to hold the small of your back.
âI love you,â he growled against your lips.
âI love you. And happy birthday. You old coot.â
âMake another joke about me being old. I dare you.â
âWho said I was joking?â
His fingers burrowed into your stomach again - you squirmed and squealed, screaming, âYou canât keep using the same attack, Jumin!â
âCome,â Jumin lightly patted your rump. âWe need to clean.â
âHuh, look at you! You didnât push it off to the maid! I guess what they say is true, you can -â
Jumin raised a wary brow at you.
âTeach an old dog new tri -â
He plucked you up, throwing you over his shoulder rather recklessly.
âGah, Jumin!! I was just kidding, heeh, put me down!!â
âYou donât seem to realize what comes out of that pretty mouth of yours,â he hummed coolly, moving closer to the bed. âIâm charmed, but my feelings are hurt. And you need to take responsibility.â
âIâm sorry ~!!â You pleaded. âMercy Juju, mercy!!â
âMercy is denied.â
âWaah!!â
#mystic messenger#jumin han#mein schatz#juminweek2019#Birthday#HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUMIN âĽď¸âĽď¸âĽď¸
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@juminweek2019
Day 1 |Â Happy Birthday | Family | RFA
"So many choices, but which beverage shall I select?. Â Mi, miya, meow, meoow. Â I can understand everything you say, Elizabeth.â
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no one above you - day one
@juminweek2019
jumin x mc
rating:Â T
prompt:Â Serbian bellflower - everlasting love, gratitude, constancy
warnings: mentions of housefire, slight angstâĄ
word count:Â 3.6k
ao3 link
MC trusts Jumin with her life. Right?
°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă
MC pulled the key out of the lock finally, sighing and making a mental note to talk to her landlord about it. Sheâd been struggling to unlock it for a little over a week at that point.
Stepping out of her shoes, she pulled her hair from its updo and set her bag down. Another interview down, and she was really hoping that they would hire her.
Once she had changed into something more comfortable, she switched on her laptop to check her emails for the RFA party coming up. Her heart fell as she saw the subject line of her most recent email.
After much convincing, sheâd convinced the owner of an up-and-coming ramen chain, Mr. Seo, to attend the party. Sheâd been so proud of herself, and the whole RFA had praised her when sheâd bragged about it in the chatroom.
âThereâs nothing more to say, see for yourselfâŚwhat?â she read aloud to herself, clicking on the attachment from the owner. Inside was an email sent to Mr. Seo earlier that morning, and as she began to read, her mouth fell open in shock.
âMy fiancĂŠ is too shy to admit it, but your attendance at our fundraiser would be disgraceful. Please consider this a revocation of your invitation.â Her eyes widened as she looked to see who the email was from, finding Jumin Han signed at the bottom.
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and disbelief, but there was no denying that the email address was the one he used for business purposes. Could someone have hacked his account?
She put her head in her hands, sighing out in exasperation. Why did this keep happening?
Over the last six months, MC felt as if she couldnât escape the bad luck that was finding her. It began with little things. Her apartment window shattering at 3 in the morning, losing her favorite bracelet, or finding a nail in her tire two weeks in a row.
It soon turned into bigger things that ruined not only her day but her week or even her month. She was fired from her job of three years because someone made up a story that she had threatened them with violence. Multiple party guests all decided to pull out at the same time. The worst was when someone forged a note from Jumin to her landlord saying that he was a crook and shouldnât manage an apartment complex. Jaehee was still having that investigated.
She had been through three cars in the last six months, having had her catalytic converter stolen, her fuel line slashed, and discovering her brakes had rusted through. If she hadnât had Jumin to help her make ends meet when she couldnât, she wouldnât have known what to do.
Thinking about all these things, she closed her laptop, not even going to bother trying to convince the party guest that there had been a misunderstanding. Just like with the note to her landlord, she didnât believe for one second that Jumin would do such a thing. But her stomach was tied in a strange knot, one she couldnât seem to untangle even with reason. She tried to convince herself that he must have been hacked, but she still reached for her phone and dialed his number.
She heard the phone ring not even once fully before it went to voicemail, and she pulled her phone back to stare at it in disbelief. As her unease grew, she checked to see if sheâd gotten any texts from him before calling Jaehee next.
MC was holding her breath, happily releasing it after Jaehee answered almost immediately.
âThank go-â
âIâm sorry, MC, can I call you back? Mr. Han and I are about to meet with the Chairman,â Jaehee spoke quickly, and MCâs smile fell.
âOh, yes,â she replied, about to add that it was urgent before Jaehee abruptly hung up. Despite the momentary relief, the call brought her no peace of mind. She began a text to Jumin, but after a pause, she stood from her couch and grabbed her purse.
It was a brisk 15-minute walk to Juminâs apartment, and she couldnât keep her mind from running. She tried to scan the previous night for anything sheâd done wrong while sheâd been visiting him. When she found nothing, she thought back further, coming up short again. If Jumin was upset with her, she wouldnât have known without the email from the guest. But was he upset with her? Was she overthinking it? Her mind was in a dizzying mess by the time she walked into the lobby of his apartment.
The attendant in the elevator gave her a strange look but still managed to smile at her. She was hoping her nerves would calm if she could get up there to his penthouse and just wait for him there. Elizabeth the 3rd would help her settle down too. She considered going straight to his office, but if he was meeting with his father, it was for something important that she didnât want to interrupt.
Stepping off the elevator at the top floor, she nearly breezed past the guards as she always did.
âMs. MC,â the taller one called. She turned to look at him â Juwon, if she remembered right â expecting the usual smile and finding a tight-lipped expression instead. Her stomach turned, wishing sheâd thought of the possibility of being stopped there.
âYes?â she wondered, turning to face the two of them.
âIâm afraid I canât let you through at the moment,â Juwon replied, narrowing his eyes at her.
What?
âI understand,â she said after a moment, swallowing thickly and trying to think on her toes. âI just, Iââ She choked on her words, pretending to clear her throat.
âI forgot my medication here last night again, and itâs really important I take it on time,â she said gently, lying through her teeth but finding it felt necessary in that moment. The guardsâ expressions flickered, and they glanced at each other in hesitation.
âYou can follow me inside if youâd like. I swear Iâll be less than a minute,â she offered, smiling at the both of them. âJust close the door if you see the cat,â she teased, finally bringing a smile to Juwonâs lips.
âAlright, but less than a minute is what weâll stick with,â he said, nodding at the other guard to remain put as he moved towards her. She smiled, relieved.
âThank you,â she breathed, knowing that he couldnât get into the penthouse without a special code from Jumin or his father that changed every 10 minutes. She would be safe there for the time being.
They approached the door, and she pressed her thumb to the touchpad, feeling the relief wash out of her when the panel flashed red. She tried her thumbprint again, taking a shallow breath to try and calm herself. Her access had worked just last night! What hadâ
âHey,â she heard behind her, turning to see the head of security, Mr. Jung, stepping off the elevator. Following him were four more guards, ones sheâd never met before. She whipped around and tried to get in one more time, gritting her teeth when NOT AUTHORIZED popped up for the third time.
âIâm going to have to ask you to leave,â Mr. Jung said as he walked up to her, and she raised an eyebrow at him. His expression was stern, not the warm, friendly one she was used to.
âWhy? Whatâs going on?â she wondered, feeling as if she was running out of options.
âDirect orders from Mr. Han,â he replied coldly, making her heart drop against her lungs and knock the wind out of her. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, her vision spinning for a second before she felt a hand on her wrist. She twisted out of it, glaring up at him and holding back tears.
âI know the way out,â she sneered, pushing past them and stalking over to the stairwell that led back down. She trudged down a few flights in silence before she sat down, letting a few tears fall before pulling out her phone. No notifications from Jaehee, and none from Jumin either. Ignoring the way her hands had begun to shake, she navigated to that floorâs elevator and took it down, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.
Just before MC could lift her arm to hail a cab outside, her phone rang in her hand. She lifted it to her face in a panic, praying it was Jumin but frowning when it was just her landlord. She thought about declining the call, but she decided to pick up, having let the only cab in sight fly past her.
âHello?â she answered, being met with the wail of sirens and a slew of curses.
âGet yoâ Here now! Your apartmentâ fire!â she heard, shaking her head in disbelief.
âWhat?â she yelled, her eyes wide as she stared at the ground and waited for a reply.
âGet here now!â she heard, pulling the phone away from her ear. Swallowing her growing anxiety, she waved down the next cab and headed for home, hoping that today wouldnât get any worse.
When she arrived and saw the firetruck, she felt the tears threatening to fall again, running through the lobby towards the stairs. She could smell the smoke already. Her landlord was standing in front of the elevator, and a whole new fire was set ablaze in his eyes when he caught sight of her.
âThis better be a joke,â he growled, pointing a finger at her.
âWhat is going on?â she demanded, glancing at the people in the lobby who were coughing.
âIâd love to know! You can tell me exactly why your apartment went up in flames,â he replied icily, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at her. She felt dizzy, shaking her head.
âYouâre kidding,â she said weakly, thinking of all of the damage sheâd have to deal with.
âI wish I was!â he exclaimed, cursing at her before a firefighter walked up breathlessly.
âIt was the stove,â he explained, looking between the both of them and making alarm bells ring in her head. The landlord shot her a deadly glare before stepping aside to speak more with the man. She took wavering steps towards the couch in the lobby, seeing her neighbor Jiuen and rushing over quickly.
âJiuen,â she sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. Jiuen turned and looked at her with wide eyes before hugging her from where she sat on the couch.
âMC! Thank God youâre okay,â she whimpered, shaking her head against MCâs stomach. âThey didnât know if you were in there or not when the fire started.â MC patted her head, not feeling like providing much comfort at the moment.
âAre you okay?â she wondered quietly, feeling her neighbor nod and hearing her sniffle in reply.
âI saw people at your door a little while before it all started and figured someone had come to get you, but the firefighters were scaring me because they didnât know if theyâd find a body in thereââ
âWhat?â she interrupted, watching Jieun lift her head and pull away from the hug.
âYeah, a ton of guys in suits,â she shrugged, wiping her eyes. âDid Jumin call and say he stopped by? I didnât have time to go out there and say hi,â she wondered. MC balled her hands in fists, pressing her nails deep into her palms to keep her tears in.
âThanks for worrying, Jieun,â she whispered, turning around and walking back out of the apartment building.
â
MC rolled over achily, reaching over to turn off her alarm and sigh. After getting a hotel room last night, she had crashed, exhausted and numb from all that had happened. She squinted at the light coming in through the blinds, picking up her phone and glancing at all her notifications.
Jumin had called her multiple times, Jaehee had as well, and the text notification bubble didnât even have a number on it anymore.
She began to scroll through Jaeheeâs first, sighing at all the questions and worry as she read backward to the previous night.
âThe Chairman never showed up. I apologize for the wait.â She sighed, pulling up Juminâs text and feeling her heart begin to ache at the worry. She was fuming mad, but seeing him so helpless wasnât comforting.
A similar text to Jaeheeâs caught her eye, making her tired brain finally start to wake up.
âMy father missed our meeting. Heâs never done that before.â
MC stared at the text, pressing her lips together.
Juminâs father had never approved of their relationship. From the moment Jumin proposed at the party, heâd never once given her a smile that was real. She could see the hatred behind it, no matter how much he thought he was hiding it.
She pushed the thought away, reminding herself that Jumin was who she was upset with. Right?
The harder she thought about it, the more doubtful she became. Jumin had never done anything malicious to her, and she found it hard to believe that he could.
Sitting up from when she lay, she took a deep breath and steeled herself. She was going to put an end to whatever was going on.
Having been so out of it last night, she hadnât realized sheâd gotten a hotel close to Juminâs apartment. The morning air was nice and refreshing on her skin as she stepped outside and began walking, her thoughts swirling in confusion and anger.
When she reached the lobby of his building, she noticed the security guards at the entrance. She walked back around the corner, chewing on her bottom lip as she took a deep breath and put her faith in her fiancĂŠ.
She waited through half a ring before Jumin answered her call, a deep exhale leaving him.
âMy love,â he breathed in relief. She held back a larger smile, feeling the way her muscles relaxed at the sound of his voice.
âIâm here, Jumin,â she replied, looking around the corner at the door.
âMy door is always open,â he said after a pause, sounding slightly confused. She leaned against the wall, shaking her head.
âNot for me,â she said quietly, waiting for him to respond but hearing silence.
âWhere?â was all he asked, and she glanced upwards towards the top floor, knowing what he was asking.
âThe lobby,â she answered, hearing rustling before the line went dead. She pressed her lips together, watching the guards as her heartbeat began to accelerate.
After a long minute and a half, she saw the guards turn to look further into the lobby, their shoulders tensing. She took that as her sign, and she started towards the entrance, nearly tripping over her own feet.
She could hear Juminâs voice and many footsteps on the fancy tile as the doors slid open, their eyes meeting as she spotted him paces from the elevator.
âMr. Han,â the head of security warned, following after him as Jumin strode towards her.
âMC,â Jumin called. She almost was able to smile in reply before two guards stepped in front of her, and she was walking so fast that she barrelled into one of them, stumbling to steady herself.
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â Jumin boomed, and she peeked over the shoulders of the guards to see who it was directed at. Mr. Jung came up to Juminâs side, his eyes meeting her fiancĂŠâs gaze apprehensively.
âMs. MC has been trespassed from this property,â he told Jumin just loudly enough for her to hear. She wanted to panic, but the way Juminâs expression shifted didnât leave her with much to worry about.
âOn whose authority?â Jumin asked lowly, and she lost sight of him as the guards in front of her pushed her forward a little.
âOrders from Mr. Han,â Mr. Jung replied, and she furrowed her eyebrows. Mr. Han. Juminâs father. Of course.
She held her hands up in silent surrender, taking two steps back from the guards to be able to see Jumin, almost wishing she hadnât. Sheâd never seen him so angry, but he didnât look like he was about to explode; his eyes were on fire. She didnât know gray could burn like that.
âThatâs my fiancĂŠ,â Jumin murmured, and Mr. Jungâs mouth twitched as if he had something he wanted to say. Jumin raised an eyebrow expectantly, his jaw set and clenched.
âI wonât ask you twice to let her through,â he hissed, and Mr. Jung paused, looking towards MC.
âMr. Hanââ
âMC, come here please,â Jumin called, his voice shifting into a gentle melodic tone. She glanced at the guards in front of her, watching them make a space big enough for her to squeeze through the two of them. She walked over to Jumin, holding his left hand with both of hers and looking up at him. His expression was cold again, his eyes set on the guard in front of him.
âYouâre all dismissed. You wonât enjoy yourselves if I see you again,â he spoke calmly, and the head of security took a quick breath in.
âYour fatherââ
âNow.â Jumin said, cutting him off. Mr. Jung glared at the both of them, growling to himself and turning away as the rest of the guards hesitantly followed after him. She pressed her forehead into Juminâs shoulder, her deep breaths slowing as she felt Jumin squeeze her hand and raise his right to her head.
âAre you okay?â he wondered, lifting her chin to let his eyes roll over her completely.
âIâm fine,â she whispered, a lump forming in her throat. Juminâs eyebrows pulled together in worry, and he pressed a short kiss to her forehead before starting towards the elevator.
âLetâs get inside,â he said reassuringly, holding her hand the whole ride up.
When she showed him how her fingerprint was no longer authorized at the door, she watched his eyes grow fiery again.
âI see,â was all he said, glancing at the camera pointed at his door and leading her inside.
Jumin sat her down on the couch and poured her a cup of tea, kissing her cheek and waiting until she relaxed before he started with questions.
Once MC started, it was a while until she stopped, watching Jumin grow more and more tense as her story continued. Now that she knew his father had something to do with what had happened yesterday, she wondered how much more the Chairman could be guilty of.
When she finally finished, she wiped a few stray tears from her face and looked up at him warily.
âIâm sorry I thought you were behind it all,â she said weakly, watching Juminâs expression soften as his hand moved to cup her cheek.
âThis was all a deliberate ploy to create resentment between us,â he replied, stroking the skin beneath her eye with his thumb. âOf course you came to that conclusion.â She shook her head, sighing.
âThat doesnât make it okay. I should have trusted you wholeheartedly,â she replied, pouting. He smiled, blowing an amused breath from his nose.
âWhat matters is youâre here now,â he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. She knew he was right, but still felt guilty.
âWhat now?â she wondered, watching his face harden as he exhaled slowly.
âIâm going to speak to him.â Jumin removed his hands from her, standing and starting towards the door.
âJumin,â she called, following after him and taking his hand to stop him. âI donât want to come between you and your father.â Jumin stopped, his firmly-set shoulders drooping slightly. He turned to glance at her, his eyes evaluating her face as he considered what sheâd said.
âMC,â he murmured softly, turning around to face her and place his hands on her upper arms. âMy father has let me down countless times. I acknowledge that he is my family, but if he continues to disrespect you, I cannot tolerate that,â he continued, his eyebrows drawing downwards as he spoke. She searched his eyes as she listened.
âYou are who I am choosing to love. You have never let me down. I love you, and I have no doubt that you love me,â he spoke softly, beginning to smile down at her. She couldnât help but return the smile, feeling her anxious heart begin to warm.
âAnd that is why,â he whispered, stepping closer to her and wrapping his arms behind her back. âI must put a stop to this. No matter who it is that tries to come between us, I wonât let them get away with it. Iâm sorry it took this long for me to realize,â Jumin sighed, pulling her in for a hug and pressing her tight to his chest. She hugged him back, having felt his love for her in both his words and the way he was holding her. She held back more tears, relieved that nothing had gone wrong between them.
Jumin ran a hand across her back soothingly, making her close her eyes and settle into that moment. She pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, feeling gratitude for the man who she loved so much flowing through her.
He pulled back, his eyes honeyed and straying far from that fire from before as he gazed down at her. She let out an amused sigh, pushing some hair away from his forehead.
âWerenât we going somewhere?â she wondered quietly, seeing some of the warmth leave his expression.
âYouâd like to come with me?â he wondered, his eyes scanning over her face.
âYes, Jumin,â she replied. âWeâre in this together.â He smiled at that, pulling away from her but staying close as he smoothed out his dress shirt and patted his pocket for his phone.
âIndeed we are, my love,â he agreed, holding out his hand for a mere second before she took it. Whatever was ahead for them, they would face it hand in hand.
°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă°ă
thank you so much for reading! I hope someone enjoyed this :) I haven't written anything since last year, so I'm rusty! also posting this late lol
stay tuned! I can't promise a full catalogue this year, but I'm going to try my best <3
mel x
#juminweek2024#jujuw24#jumin week 2024#jujuw24d1#jumin week#jumin han#han jumin#mysme#mystic messenger#my writing#mysme fanfic#mystic messenger fanfic#jumin#posting late lollllll
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All That Glitters
Han Jumin x OC
Jumin Week 2024 - Day 3: Green Daylily (Romantic Love, âThe Flower That Helps Forget Sorrowsâ) @juminweek2019
All that glitters is not gold. An arranged marriage brings out the worst in Aecha and Jumin, and witnessing him fall for someone he canât have may just be her tipping point.
A/N: Iâve tried to break the clichĂŠ of a cheater being just bad in Wedge the Knife Under My Skin, now this is my shot at humanising the gold-digger stereotype. Jumin as perceived by a resentful wife trapped in a marriage she doesnât want may not be the Jumin you know. I humbly ask you to withhold your judgement and see it from her eyes.
TW: self-harm
Words:Â 5.4k
Masterlist Read on AO3
Aecha thought she could do this. Jumin was hers, but he could not belong to her, could not, could not, could NOT!â
She was sometimes a simpleton but not a deranged young woman. Breathe in, then out. Slipped her hand beneath her metallic dress that parted at her leg and twisted the skin on her thigh.
She was good and entertaining and desirable.
Aecha parted the masses and conversations halted. Her beauty glimmered and cloistered the useless watchers. Not only known as someoneâs wife, her position in her company was just as important in this event. Businesses relied on hers to function, so Aecha could seamlessly negotiate winning deals and blackball distasteful people as she saw fit.
She headed to her husband. Jumin raised his champagne at her and smiled. Only she could see how insincere the smile was.
He never liked her enough to bestow her any semblance of authenticity.
No, that was her. A solemn, porcelain-faced her.
Jumin stared at the back of the womanâs head when she turned to thank the waiter and Aecha nearly broke. His naked yearning was embarrassing and she felt the urge to apologise to anyone who caught him. When a bald man approached him, Aecha intercepted and went on about nice, irrelevant things like the doltish young lady she decided to be.
Iâm sorry, my husband is occupied. Partner? What business partner? Come on, donât be boring. Leave your work at the office and drink! Here, take mine.
He spun the champagne glass in his hand and drank where her lipstick had stained its rim.
Aecha giggled and covered her lips while looking down at the marble flooring. The violet lights were giving her a headache. Fucking gaudy. People these days liked to use flashing colours as a theme instead of acting like it was a proper formal event.
Was Jumin staring? Of course he was. And he was coming, Lord save her.
Jumin rounded his arm around her waist and kissed her head. It meant nothing and Aecha felt nothing. She used all her strength not to lean away when he ruined her sleek, freshly cut bob and embraced him. Over his shoulder, she did a quick sweep for another sighting of the woman, but she couldnât find her.
That was how it started. At a gala dinner, a married businessman sought a reprieve through a fleeting conversation with a woman as small as an easily crushed bird. He was entranced ever since. His wife couldnât blame him, for she was also a wraith in their marriage. A chasm was where she looked, and this might be her best plunge yet.
*Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *
Jumin had been gripping his phone tightly. Whether he was waiting for her to text back or deciding to send the first text, Aecha couldnât be arsed. She just wanted him to stop bothering her peace with his pacing.
She slammed her book shut. âWould you be so kind as to fucking sit down and overthink quietly?â
Jumin scowled at her, but Aecha didnât bristle. Gone were the days when she had to be timid in front of him. Jumin was not as powerful as everyone thought. He couldnât even break out of his marriage. âYou complain when the house is too quiet, yet you berate me when I endeavour to make this space livelier. I canât get anything right.â
Aecha crossed her legs and studied her glistening nails with a breezy disinterest. âThe brunette looked like your taste.â
While they did have an agreement to be able to see other people as long as it was discreet, the reality of it rattled Aecha more than she liked to admit. It was not jealousy she felt. She hated that Jumin won in this game of misery, that he had found a raft to tide over his loneliness while she had to drown alone.
Jumin sighed. âI only conversed with her because she and I share a similar view on certain subjects.â
âLike wanting her mouth around your cock,â she said. âDid you manage to sneak off for a quick fuck in the closet?â
âYou are dreadful when something is not to your liking.â Juminâs face twisted in disgust. He was only this expressive when they were alone. All that wasted media training. His childhood tutor would be disappointed. âI apologise that you had to deal with unpleasant associates on my behalf, but itâs been a long day. Do postpone your vitriolic statements. No one has the patience to deal with your tantrums all the time, Aecha.â
She held her hands up in mock acquiescence. âI only have one request: do not fuck her in the master bedroom. Take the one downstairs if youâd like.â
Jumin seemed to be calculating something before he sat beside her and placed her book on his lap. âIf I ever brought anyone home as you apparently wish, perhaps I should do it in the bedroom beside ours. You could take notes on being more delightful in bed.â He smiled, but it made him look all wrong. Too crude and cruel for his elegant countenance.
Aecha patted his cheek, hot derision burning against her chest. âIt says more about your dirt-poor standard that you still want to sleep with me if youâre this dissatisfied.â
âYouâre within reach.â Jumin shrugged. âBut I assure you, that wonât happen anymore.â
The jab didnât land as he expected. Aecha was well-acquainted with the extent of his obsession with a mere cat, so she shuddered to think of being on the receiving end as a person.
âYouâre a boring fuck too, Han Jumin. I just had to make do with what I had.â
Jumin let out an audible scoff and Aecha seized her book. At least he had a good mind not to crease the pages.
*Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *
Let bygones be bygones.
Their squabbles never lasted more than a few days, but still, sharing a bed with Jumin was ridiculous. Aecha didnât know why they never separated despite the many available rooms in this penthouse. Perhaps sleeping with someone you loathed was better than no one at all.
The harsh glow from Juminâs phone washed over his face as his fingers tentatively danced across the screen. His facial features were worth the applause, she had to admit. As beautiful as a forbidden painting, as empty as a forgotten memory. No wonder the brunette was drawn to him. Jumin was a mystery to be solved and opposition would only drive her further into his arms.
âI canât sleep with your phone light,â protested Aecha.
âYou can turn the other way,â Jumin replied without a glance at her. âElizabeth the Third is sleeping soundly, see?â
The white cat, curled like a doughnut between them, peeked through her eyelids. Aecha stroked her fur and she purred, dozing off again. âHave you met her again?â
Juminâs fingers froze while a new message popped up on his phone. How would that woman feel if she knew he was lying side by side with his wife as he flattered her? She must know about Aechaâs existence. Their wedding was highly publicised.
But Aecha couldnât judge her for trying to hold on to a strand of flimsy hope. It happened to the worst of them. She hadnât been strong enough to resist the temptation either.
âYes.â The word scraped against Juminâs throat. âHave you taken your melatonin?â
He was always trying to get rid of her. âI want to take more than the prescribed dosage,â she said.
âYou wouldnât want to relieve the experience of your stomach being pumped. Neither do I.â He pulled the duvet up Aechaâs neck and folded the corner into a neat rectangle. âSo save us the medical trouble and go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a better day.â
âFor you, maybe.â She suppressed her surprise that Jumin noticed her shivering. âYou finally found a toy to distract yourself, but itâs hell for me every day.â
âYou should have acclimatised yourself to this by now.â Jumin looked down at her with a pity that bordered on condescending. Aecha wanted to scratch it off his face.
She nodded at his phone and he turned the screen away. âYouâre like a little kid with a candy dangled right above him,â she said, âbut youâre too short, too powerless, to reach it.â
âShe is a human being, not a candy or a toy. Get your facts straight.â
âYouâre stupid for someone so smart.â
Jumin let out a long-suffering sigh. âNow whoâs acting like a child?â
That was enough reaction. As long as Jumin was still useful, Aecha couldnât annihilate him, but she could prick him with little poisons every day. She might have been sold off to him for the betterment of her fatherâs company, but she would not be delivered meek.
Aecha curled into a foetal position, eyes trained on him with resolve. It was self-flagellation to a degree; rage broiled inside her whenever she caught his genuine smile. She wanted, for once, to be on the receiving end of that smile. Jumin never seemed to enjoy his conversations with her, and she was always incensed or numbed by the end of them.
It wasnât that she wanted to be loved by him per se. She thirsted for the acknowledgement that she was worth loving and capable of reserving romance despite everything that made her a monster. It offended her that Jumin never even tried to weigh her worth and turn this marriage into a real thing. One look at her and he detested her with the kind of resentment that didnât fade with age.
Aecha knew that her sheer existence was a nuisance for Jumin. But if not her, who? Who else could save him from his mess? It wasnât her fault that he didnât put up a fight when Chairman Han trapped him into marrying her. C&R was suffering and Jumin was even more so. Aecha put the fire back inside Jumin when no one could. He had been a ghost of a person after his best friend disappeared. Now he was often irritated at her instead of walling off his emotions. Now he was someone to a nobody.
But affairs never ended well and Aecha was not planning to let go. She anticipated their doom with the giddiness of a child watching a car explode.
*Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *
They were strolling in the sweltering heat, cloaked under the pretence of two lovers having a romantic date at the park. Aecha swerved when a teenager was cycling at them full force and pulled Jumin out of the way.
Posture was a good excuse to do something nice. Aecha didnât want to forget how to be generous. That was a fitting practice.
Jumin thanked her and held her hand as they passed the glint of a camera behind the bushes. Aecha almost squirmed. Damp, sweaty hands were the bane of her existence. Jumin squeezed her hand in warning and she rolled her eyes.
âYou never give me flowers when weâre having an outing,â Aecha said as they saw a man surprising another man with a bouquet. âSend me some if you want to maintain your image. Weâve come too far to generate false rumours about our divorce.â
âThere are many ways to show affection without flowers.â Juminâs attention was on a kid licking her ice lollies. âI wonder how the taste of that frozen stick differs from a gelato.â
âArtificial.â
Jumin turned to her in shock. âYou have tried it?â
âIâm not as out of touch with commoners as you.â Aecha huffed. âThe employees appreciate it more when you can understand their culture.â
âI shall take note of your practice.â
When Aecha caught a whiff of another bed of roses, she got annoyed that her mission was side-tracked. âSend me flowers, Jumin. Or is that something reserved for your side chick?â Aecha knew she was shattering their fragile peace, but she couldnât help it. Her bitterness always came out before she could stop herself. âHer sad face is charming to lonely boys, Iâll give you that. Makes you want to save her, doesnât it?â
Frustration flashed across Juminâs expression, but he swallowed it. Jumin never lost his temper, not even when they were not being watched. If she was a cannonball, he was an impenetrable fortress. She couldnât elicit an explosive reaction no matter how hard she tried.
It didnât mean Aecha would stop trying though. One hole in the wall was all it needed to break him down.
âKeep her out of our date.â Jumin texted his assistant before slipping his phone into his pocket. âA bouquet will be delivered to the penthouse tomorrow. I expect it will be sufficient if you post it on your socials.â
âI thought we had a scheduled lunch with your father tomorrow.â
âIâve called it off until further notice,â said Jumin. âI think we can both agree that none of us is eager to talk to him.â
âHeâs not mad?â
âIâve held up my bargain as a prized son. Heâs already tied me to you. He should not expect anything more.â Juminâs jaw was set. âWould you like to set our picnic here?â He gestured at the plain grass.
Aecha didnât have an affinity for the great outdoors. Insects made her antsy and the sweat that dripped down her back and diluted her perfume were very far from her definition of a perfect date. The public demanded a lot of things from her.
She stood at the edge of the stone path as Jumin laid out the picnic rug. Knowing she had to play her part, Aecha cautiously knelt on the cloth and fished out the various pastries the chef had packed, arranging them neatly on the plates.
âWould you fetch a book for me?â Aecha asked as they dug into their croissants. âIâve been eyeing the first edition of Anna Karenina, but I canât find it anywhere.â
âYou have a competent assistant. Utilise him.â
She didnât know how, or why, but Jumin had a knack for making her feel small. She didnât know what to expect from him or how far his niceties extended. âDo you really hate me that much?â
Jumin stared at her impassively, his tone bored. âDonât pretend as if you loved me more than my money.â
The photographer was holding up his camera, so Aecha leaned forward and brushed off the crumbs from Juminâs lips. âI never did.â
It was more complex than that, but he would never understand.
Aecha yelped when a tomato fell out of her croissant onto her skirt. She hated everything about todayâs faux date. Jumin almost offered her a tissue, but he paused and shifted closer to remove the stain himself.
Aecha desperately wished this nearness made her heart thump. Their arrangement wouldâve been so much easier if they could learn to fall in love with each other.
Aecha was a tortured wife, but she lived a fate worse than Anna Kareninaâs. At least Anna found the will to break free and left all the wretchedness behind, but Aecha would never seize that chance.
She hated herself the most for it.
*Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *
Well, there was a bouquet on her bedside table.
Supposed it was gorgeous. Supposed she didnât know what these particular flowers meant because she never fell in love with a flower connoisseur who was always excited to teach her the language of flowers and never had to leave him for money. Supposed she never got tangled in her sisterâs hospital debt and her fatherâs company wasnât on the verge of bankruptcy.
She quashed the image of the man in her mind without mercy. It had been years ago, and she thought she might have loved him then. He was kind and loving and had no business of knowing what Aecha had become. A public figure on the news was all she had to be to him.
Aecha plucked out a stem from the bouquet. Green daylily. It should have been the romantic sort, but Aecha would not subscribe to its meaning of forgetting the pain from the past and present. She would hold on to the thorny memories. She wouldnât have survived this marriage otherwise. Sometimes to stay alive meant to torture yourself with your kindest ghosts.
And how could she forget the very life she was living? Not a day went by without Jumin reminding Aecha what true sadness was. She wanted to be angry at Juminâs assistant for getting the wrong flowers, but it was nobodyâs fault, she knew. Her fury was really just loneliness was really just disappointment and guilt directed at herself.
Her choice brought her here. Her loyalty to her family cost her Juminâs friendship and genuine love from someone, anyone.
Both of them would have suffered less in this marriage if they had been able to forge even the barest connection. Who, aside from Jumin, could understand her plight exactly? They were trapped in this together. They were supposed to turn to each other when hope eluded them. Jumin was as lonely as her, and no amount of wine and luxury for Elizabeth the Third could mask his emptiness from her.
They had never laughed together, Aecha realised, despair writhing in her gut. There were sarcastic chuckles and conceited smirks and plastic smiles, but never laughter that made them double over while clutching their stomachs. She hadnât expected love to be on the table when she entered this marriage, but she had thought at least happiness could be within reach.
Aecha choked back a sob. She had turned her life over to Chairman Han and sentenced herself to a lifetime indenture. She couldnât predict what she would do if her sister ever woke up. She wasnât sure she would be happy with what Aecha had done.
But she didnât need to approve of Aecha, she just needed to wake up.
Aecha captured a photo of the daylilies and posted it on her socials. Not a second later, comments of awe and support flooded her inbox.
Aecha was so lucky to have such a rich and loving husband. She received a surprise bouquet from a busy director while their husbands couldnât even bother to take them out for dinner.
They had seen the pictures from her park date. How sweet, how romantic. Proof that if you were truly committed to your partner, you would carve out the time to be with them.
Aecha wanted to carve out her throat.
She turned off her phone, lay down and stared at the ceiling. She was so, so lucky.
*Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *
âWhy green daylilies?â Aecha asked as Jumin walked through the front door well into midnight. His black hair was dishevelled and his cufflinks were gone. She didnât have to wonder where he had been. âIâve never told you my preference.â
Jumin shot her a pointed glance. âExactly.â
No surprise there. He didnât bother remembering that she had a vase of irises in her study.
But Aecha was in a better mood tonight, so she decided to play nice. âThey died on that same day, but I liked them when they were alive. Thank you.â
Without turning on the light in their walk-in closet, Jumin pulled off his tie and placed it on the island. Aecha noticed a lipstick smudge on the tie when she aligned it with the watch partition below the glass top. She imagined the other woman blindfolded and eagerly anticipated Juminâs touch. A kiss here, a bite there.
What did it say about her character if the thought didnât rankle her at all?
Aechaâs sex with Jumin was never adventurous. It was solely to satiate the thirst when they only had each other to turn to. They had agreed that searching outside their marriage was an awful waste of time and a gateway to a publicity nightmare.
âIf you would like, I could arrange it with the florist so youâll receive a bouquet each week.â Jumin was also nice today. A satisfying fuck could do that to someone.
âThatâs not necessary.â Aecha shrugged. âHow is she doing?â There was no hatred in her voice, only curiosity. She truly was baffled at how someone could enrapture Jumin so completely that he had been sparse in his appearance in his own house.
Jumin stiffened as though waiting for the next blow, and only slumped slightly when her jab didnât come. âNothing good can come out of this, you know that. She gains nothing and has everything to lose.â
âYou also have a lot to lose,â Aecha said with a gentleness that sounded foreign to her ears. Strangely enough, she pitied the state they had put themselves in.
âI am hurting her.â
âYou hurt a lot of people.â
âI know.â Jumin dipped his head, and it hit her that his exhaustion was more than a good fuck. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and his shoulders appeared to be weighted down. He had also been like this in their first year of marriage.
âDoes she make you happy?â Aecha asked.
âYes.â
âDoes that make you unhappy?â she asked again.
Juminâs breath trembled as he exhaled. âYes.â
Aecha glanced down at the ticking watches locked in the glass island, relentlessly marching forward without an end destination. âThen I feel sorry for you.â
Jumin shook his head. âDonât be. You bear the most pain of them all.â He covered her hand with his and the diamonds on their wedding rings clinked. âDonât presume I didnât know the origin of your rage.â
Aechaâs hand balled into a fist. Jumin was giving her too much empathy and it felt like she was stripped to the flesh and forced to bleed before him. âStop assuming accountability. Your knowledge wonât change anything. I chose to marry you for myself.â
âRight.â Jumin leaned against the island casually. âHowâs your sister?â
Aecha looked away. The closet suddenly felt too dark and imposing. âYou wouldnât see me here if she had woken.â
âI can accompany you to the hospital on your next visit.â
She drew her hand out of his grasp. The moment was over. âNo.â
Aecha had tried her best to separate her sister from this world. Her innocent, pliable little sister would be easily mangled by the vultures here. Aecha was the older one, so she should take all the knives thrown at her.
No one touched her sister. Not even her husband who was sometimes lucid enough to be nice.
Aecha grabbed a pair of fresh pyjamas on the way out and flung them at Jumin. He caught them with his face, which just meant that he had shit coordination. âTake a shower before you sleep,â she said. âYou reek of her.â
*Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *
âJumin, did you see my toothbrush?â Aecha yelled from the bathroom.
âIt must have been thrown away by the housekeeper!â Jumin shouted back.
âFor fuckâs sake,â she grumbled. A quick rummage through the cabinets presented no spare toothbrushes, so she wrapped a towel around her body and exited the bathroom. âDo you have any idea where she stocked it?â
Jumin was stroking a sleepy Elizabeth the Third on the bed, lying on his side. âIâm afraid not.â
Aecha put her hands on her hips. âHow can you not know?â
âThe last time I recalled, youâre also an occupant of this house.â
âHousekeeping is not my territory. You have a big brain, use it.â
âItâs not mine either.â Elizabeth the Third sneezed and Jumin chuckled with endearment. Aecha never got to be at the receiving end of that laugh. âAnd my brain is normal-sized. I just had a health check-up.â
âThen who should I ask?â
The answer came to Aecha right after she spoke. At the same time, they called out, âThe butler.â
She scoffed and the side of Juminâs mouth quirked up.
âI donât have their number. Iâve never even seen their face,â Aecha said.
âMe neither. All forms of communication are made between Assistant Kang and them.â
âCare to help me find my toothbrush then?â Aecha asked impatiently. When Jumin didnât budge, she re-entered the bathroom, dunked his toothbrush into the toilet bowl, and thrust it at him with a winning smile. âLook, you need a new toothbrush too. It travelled into the toilet on its own.â
Juminâs eyes followed the water dripping down the toothbrush. âYou just ruined a perfectly good cashmere rug.â
âIt will be the next thing that travels into the toilet if you donât move.â
Jumin levelled Aecha a glare that wouldâve made everyone else cower, but she simply raised her brows. He grunted. âWe can check the storage room.â
âPerfect.â She tossed the toothbrush into the bin and clapped her hands, then winced at the thought of splashing bacteria onto her skin. âRight after I wash my hands. Where is the storage room?â
âYou have lived here for years, yet you still donât know such a simple fact?â
Aecha shook her head with confidence.
âI donât either.â Jumin kissed the top of Elizabeth the Thirdâs head and stood up. âLetâs find the mysterious room, shall we?â
*Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *
It took them an embarrassingly long time to spot the storage room. In Aechaâs defence, it was located at the very end of the hall on the first floor where she had no reason to venture to. Jumin just thought she was always holed up in the library when she was not working. What was she supposed to do? Supervise the housekeepers around the clock? He could do it himself if he were so inclined.
To Aechaâs surprise, the room was remarkably tidy and spacious. She had been envisioning spider webs and broken bulbs; she should find the time to meet their house staff and thank them.
Aecha immediately scoured the room, pulling out drawers and opening boxes with determination. Jumin followed suit in a more curious fashion, flipping through files and looking into the washing carts with childlike fascination.
She paused. Jumin rarely showed this side of him to her. In fact, their recent exchanges had been bizarre. They fought, not banter.
What was happening to them?
âDid you get struck by lightning?â Aecha wondered aloud. âYouâre easy to talk to these days.â
The scuffling from Juminâs direction stopped and she turned around. âMyâshe suggested I treat you better, and she was right.â His smile was sad. âI have been cold to you even when you didnât do anything wrong. My sincere apologies.â
He wasnât standing far from her, but this was the farthest she felt from him.
Jumin couldnât be told to do anything, barring this marriage. Jumin was obstinate and held a grudge towards women like her. Tolerating materialistic women was not in his nature, so the fact that he was changing merely because ofâwhat, love?âwas unacceptable. If he could change this much this fast, the woman could very well command him to do more drastic things.
âI didnât know I was up for discussion. Doesnât she hate me for being a hurdle to your eternal love?â Aecha couldnât contain the bitterness in her tone.
âShe understands this isnât the ideal situation for any of us.â
âHow saintly of her.â Aecha sneered. âWhatâs next? You promising her that this wonât be forever and asking her to wait as you find a way out?â She was picking at her nail bed with so much force that she felt a trickle of blood sliding down her thumb. When she wished for a disaster to befall Jumin and that woman, she didnât mean to be the fallout. âNewsflash, you donât get to divorce me. I will never accept it.â
Aechaâs hospital debt was building up at a rate that she wouldnât be able to keep up with if it werenât for Jumin, and the stability of her fatherâs companies relied on him.
She hated feeling powerless, but she had to do her part to save her family. It was the one thing she could do right in.
Jumin approached her with the caution of startling a feral cat. âI would never ask it of you,â he said. Another sentence spoken with kindness. Aecha loathed to hear it. âIâm aware of the consequences you would face.â
âAre you fucking with me? Drop the noble act,â she hissed. âSheâs just one person. You donât get to trade her for everything weâve built. Our families wouldnât cooperate if we split. Stocks will fall and the board will drive me out.â
Aecha knew she was far from being a favourite among the shareholders. The only reason they tolerated her was because of her relationship with Jumin. She couldnât be seduced and tended to bulldoze over stupid, backward, outdated opinions. Her impressive performance didnât matter when she couldnât be moulded to their liking.
âIâm not going to divorce you. I also have my responsibilities.â Jumin massaged the crease between his eyebrows. âMy end of the agreement requires me to stay with you to ensure the livelihood of our subsidiaries. I know what you will do if I attempt to leave. Your rage has no bounds. I wonât let you abuse your power and ruin innocent workersâ lives.â
Aecha was too hurt to react. She might be a headache to live with, but she was not evil. She wouldnât put thousands of people out of their jobs because of her marriage issues. The media would hound her like wolves and she would lose peopleâs admiration. Love lost was almost always impossible to earn back.
But the fact that Jumin thought Aecha could do heinous things made her want to prove him right. It was too easy to latch onto fury and let it consume her. Why create a job crisis for strangers when she could strike at Juminâs heart?
That woman was her final card. She wouldnât hesitate to use it the moment he put her and her family in jeopardy.
âYouâre wrong. I care about strangers,â Aecha said, her cheeks hot from restraining her anger.
âI have never seen that from you, Aecha.â
Juminâs statement was so ridiculous that she had to laugh. âNo, you just never see me.â She almost choked at the admission. âBut thatâs fine. You should keep an eye on that woman. You think youâre the only one with a hacker on your side? You already know what Iâm capable of. What makes you so sure that I wouldnât go berserk on her instead?â
Jumin came so close to her that she had to retreat until her elbow hit a cabinet. âTouch her and I wonât stand still,â he said in a low voice. âThereâs only so much I can tolerate from you.â
Aechaâs tightened fists shook and she ignored the sting from the peeled skin. She looked up at him, holding back the urge to slam his forehead into the cabinet behind her. âSheâs safe as long as my family and I are safe.â
Once upon a time, Jumin could have loved her, had she approached him with pure intentions. Their brief moments of camaraderie had proven it. But in this lifetime, Aecha had soured their relationship purely through the circumstance she entered Juminâs life and he never forgave her for it.
Jumin scrutinised her for several seconds and she held his gaze without wavering. âThen we have reached an agreement.â He handed her a sealed package from his pocket. âYour toothbrush.â
Her blood smeared on the plastic as she snatched it from him.
*Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â *
Jumin had moved out of their bedroom into the guest room down the hall. They would see each other even rarer now.
Aecha cast a look around the library. Walls of books stretched up the ceiling with a sliding ladder docked on one side. She couldnât remember when books ceased to give her lasting joy. She couldnât remember the last time things didnât hurt. She had caused this, she knew that.
Aecha rested her temple against the cold window and brought her knees to her chest. From her plush seat, she watched the gardener maintaining Juminâs private garden, and there she noticed a small patch of green daylilies.
Jumin must have had them planted before they fought. She wondered if he would remove them from the premises soon.
Sometimes, Jumin was considerate. Sometimes, it almost made Aecha crumble.
She didnât think her loneliness could amplify, but what had taken root in this penthouse was crawling up her limbs like vines, determined to crush her.
She wanted to stop fighting them.
But her sister. But her father.
Aecha gritted her teeth as she picked at the newly scabbed skin on her thumb. It broke open into a deeper wound. Fresher sting, freer blood.
Just one more day. Then another. Then another.
-
Footnotes:
Aecha always assumes the worst from Jumin, but I hope the subtle details were noticeable enough that this is still the Jumin we love, just trapped in his resentment of having to marry someone whoâs blatantly after his money.
At the event, Aecha calls herself a simpleton because she threw herself into this marriage for her family despite her sense of self-preservation.
When Jumin squeezed Aechaâs hand in the park, it wasnât a scolding. He was trying to signal âIâm here.â
Itâs not mentioned in the fic, but Jumin personally picks out the daylilies for her, not his assistant. He doesnât know she likes irises because he respects her privacy and never goes into her study.
Years of familiarity translate to them subconsciously caring for each otherâs quirk without noticing: Jumin setting up the picnic because he knows kneeling on the grass squicks Aecha out, Aecha straightening Juminâs tie on the rack because he doesnât like things crooked...
The toothbrush scene isnât just a comic relief. I wanted to show a domestic moment and what they couldâve had if theyâd started on the right foot.
Aechaâs fingers are a small allusion to her downspiral. In the second scene, the fingernails glisten, but by the penultimate and last scenes, she makes them bleed.
Why an OC? Simple. Writer wrote about 2 women, writer backed herself into a corner because she had a hard time referring to who as who, main woman got a name and developed personality. Aecha means good daughter in Korean. I love dooming her from the start.
When I couldnât decide whether to develop Aecha into a full villain or give her some redeeming qualities, my friend told me itâd be more interesting if sheâs morally grey. That stuck with me. At the end, theyâre just a married couple who are trying to survive this lifelong prison theyâd put themselves in.
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#i tried to find happy ideas for jumin's birthday but this is too compelling not to write about#when will i stick to my plan bc whatever plotting i did just flew out of the window. this is more organic tho#tw self harm#jumin han#mystic messenger#jumin han fanfic#mystic messenger fanfiction#mysme#jumin han x oc#jumin han angst#mm jumin#jumin week 2024#juminweek2024#jujuw24d3#xela writes
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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 âHappy Birthdayâ 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-loveâ
Compassion by @jylcieâ
Party by @somethingspookyythiswaycomesâ
Note: If you definitely submitted something on time and you donât see it here, please DM me! My eyes are tired and I couldâve definitely missed something! THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR YOUR PARTICIPATIONÂ
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Happy Birthday Jumin
@juminweek2019 Day 1: Happy Birthday
(this is my badly written letter to Jumin on his very special day, hope you can still enjoy this, i really wish i had more time but London was calling and time is running soo fast )
My dearest love,
First of all i wish you a happy happy birthday! I hope all of your future days may be bright, joyful and full of love. As you might know I am currently in London, together with my godmother- and i am so, so sad i cannot not be by your side right now to join you on your very special day. (Even if you think it just might be a day like every other) But i will make sure our Elly gives you the kiss i want to give you! Oh i long for you to be here, too. With me.
Juju, i have to tell you something really important. It's still hard to write it down and actually find the right words for all those feelings i have towards you. Even though i still think words cannot describe what i feel about you. But i will try my very best:
Jumin, whenever i see your smile- whether it's the smile of your eyes when you're blushing or this small chuckle you make, when hear your laugh or just hear you talk to someone, joke about silly stuff (or Zen) or just hear you breathe, it calms me down, makes me feel at ease, and makes all my doubts disappear. I feel like I can truly rely on you, and i admire your strong, pure, kind and lovingly personality. You really have a big heart, which makes it really easy to fall in love with you within a blink of an eye.
Because your laugh is the sweetest thing I heard in years, your humour leaves me quite speechless sometimes, (among other things). I... I Love the way i feel when i am near to you... When all those butterflies start flying inside of me... I miss you, all the time, i miss your touch, your hugs, your kisses. Your everything. I love you, and i always will.
With lots and lots of love,
Your M.
#mysme#mystic messenger#jumin han#juminweek2019#shitty longcat#this is really bad and i know it#but i wanted to post this so bad!!!#oh and my oc is m#but its also a version of me :3
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Fragile Duetto
@juminweek2019 âDay Two: Touch and Caged
a/n: I have no idea what the hecky-heck this is. I just really like Professor!Jumin.
In front of his door, MC remembered where once she would count through all of the worse scenario instances in her head, of all possible ways to greet him. Hi Dr. Han I just��� H-h-hey Professor Han did you knowâ Jumin Han, I amâ Dr. Jumin Hanâ
Jumin Han...Iâm in love with you.
Countless days she wandered to the professorâs building, searching for him during his office hours. Sheâd never entered his room, never dreamed of it. Instead MC settled for sitting at the front during lectures, listening intently and fondly as he listed through different plots and rules of the business world. She absorbed every and all information that he provided as best as she could. On bad days, when she could tell he was distressed, sheâd buy him a hot tea and leave it on his desk in the lecture hall. When he had his good days, which were more often than his worse, sheâd smile and greet himâwave and ask about his day. Because that was what she wanted from him. To smile, and say hello, and ask about her. But she never asked for anything in return. Her heart would flutter with content when he would nod his head and give a brief response. Sometimes when he responded with an anecdote about his cat Elizabeth the Third and a faint grin, she knew she beamed far brighter than a student just being polite should be.
But in class, everyone tried to wriggle themselves into the heart of the ever cold-stared Dr. Han. And MC didnât want him to think that was what she wanted. She wanted him. Not his favor.Â
She wanted to know him. Not as a professor.
As her senior year drew to a close, she found however, that no longer taking his class led to most sessions in person with him to be scarce. But the one or two times a week when she could see him, she found their encounters different. The corners of his lips quirked a bit, his eyes seemed to brighten, and his posture almost relaxed. When he called out to her, it was no longer âMs. MCâ it had become just âMCâ. A stuttering hope filled her chest, one that she tried not to nurture.
So when her best friend invited her out a party, MC told herself why not. âYou only live once,â her friend had added. âYou donât want to waste it on a professor, right?â Afterall sheâd be graduating from university, and would move on. She needed to move on from what her parents liked to call a ridiculous and immature crush. Maybe they were right. Going to a party, meeting new people who were eligible and her age would most definitely be far more appropriate.
The party had been great at first. Load music roaring in her ears. Guys and girls, girls and girls, guys and guys, all dancing together in one giant hodge-podge of sweaty jive. Flashing colorful lights and cold drinks that left burning trails down her throat, MC had tried to ignore the voice of reason that sounded a lot like the disdained voice of a certain professor. So when a man took her hand and pulled her into the clubâs rhythm, she did not refuse him. Crashing noise, crashing bodies, it was a wave that pulled her into the flow of the chaotic world around her. Because the one time she pulled herself away from the thoughts of Jumin Han, it was as if everything around her collapsed.Â
The man led her away from the crowd and whispered harsh, lewd nothings into her ear. She didnât like it; but she never said no. She gave him a faint and shy nod, a half-hearted muttered yes. When he pushed her up against the wall and asked her what she wanted, MC could only think about large, blanched and bony handsâstorm grey eyes and dark knitted brows, a fine thin mouth, and soft strands of feathered raven hair.Â
And the man that caged her between his body and the wall was not what she wanted.
So she pressed her hands against his chest and shoved him away, she left and went home without her best friend too. Without her permission, her body trembled. Without her say-so, her eyes wept hot and salty tears. Â
So this was how MC found herself, first thing in the morning, in front of Jumin Hanâs office door. How many times had she done this so meaninglessly, pacing back and forth but never entering? Now, of all times she decided to approach the open doorway. His deep tenor lilted from the doorway and she paused, he was talking to someone. She hadnât noticed anyone in there before hand but that didnât mean anything. Maybe he was on the phone.
Flashes of a strangerâs shoulders and the press of some other manâs chest flooded her mind, and MC pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress a sob. What the hell am I doing? All of this needs to stop. She clenched her free hand into a fist and turned sharply on her toes. Her eyesight blurred and the breath in her chest heaved. She needed to leave right this minute.Â
âMC.â
The call of her name had been so calm, so sure.
MC turned her head just slightly to see Jumin Han standing in the doorway with his brows raised slightly. His expression went from questioning to concerned in an instant and she wondered if it was her probably distressed look of her expression or the rivulets of tears that by now had spilled over her eyelids. Whatever it was, her professor did not hesitate to reach out his hand. He said no words.
Only looked from his hand to herâs, curling his fingers gently.
In the back of her head, she could hear that little chirp of reason telling her to just walk away.
But her body worked against her, and her grasp found his. It was warm, and the slight callous of his hands rubbed gently over her skin as he lightly tugged her into his office. He closed the door behind them, before turning back to her. His arms crossed over his chest and he gave her a thorough look-over.
Her shoulders shook and she found she cried harder.
âWhat happened, MC?â
Her hand did a poor job of blocking her mouth, of muffling her words. Broken and weak sobs slipped past her lips as she told him everything. Her crush on him since freshman year. Wanting to see him smile. The party from last night. Begging that he rescue from the stupid situation she put herself in.
âIâm so ridiculous,â she cried, scrubbing furiously at her eyes when she realized that she should honestly be slinking away. âI never meant to bother you with any of this, to tell you any of this. I just always thought thatââ
In her mind she never got past confessing to him; she always expected a word of distaste from him or an angry quirk of his eyebrows. Instead, when she finally braved looking up at him, she found his grey gaze widened and his mouth slightly parted. A faint hue of color spread along the curve of his cheekbones and if she didnât know any better, MC would have said he was blushing.
Even when her voice tried to stick to the walls of her throat, she still managed to choke out a â...Dr. Han?â
He stared a bit longer at her before slowly raking his hand through his hair with a dazed look. âPardon, me MC. I just...never expected you to enjoy my company in return.â
She laughed, the first time in the last twenty-four hours, before realizing he was serious. Despite their puffy and tender state, her eyes rounded in incredulity and she twisted her hands in one another. Surely sheâd misunderstood him. âIâm sorry what?â
His eyelashes fluttered for a moment, and he gave her a narrowed glance. âMay I do something?â
âWhat will you do?â She murmured back, her fingers tightening in her fists. This was a dream. This was a crazy and insane dream, and if she woke up she would sob for days.
âYouâll have to find out.â He smiled.
Jumin Han smiled. At her. It was a shy thing, radiant and nervous, and yet there was a conviction in his glance that prompted her to take a step closer to him. God was she desperate? Surely she wasnât this desperate for himâ
âPlease,â MC heard herself saying. âSurprise me then.â
Jumin inclined his head with an amused smirk, before reaching out and gathering her into his arms. MC gasped out, goosebumps trailing her skin as his hands skimmed up and down her spine before their touch held firm at the base of her head and the small of her back. His nose nuzzled into the crown of her head, and beneath her cheek she felt his chest rise and fall with a sigh. Her hands found his sides, and her fingers clenched and wrinkled his vest. Warm. He was so warm. Her breathing began to match his and MC found herself burying her face into his chest.
âIs this better?â he whispered, voice low and gentle. âThan last night.â
âWay better,â her voice trembled.Â
The hand on her back rubbed soothing circles, fingertips tenderly pressing into her skin.
She held him tighter. âIâm dreaming.â
âIf we are both sharing this vision,â he chuckled. âMs. MC I would not like to be disturbed from such a dream.â
She giggled and refused to look up at him. If she did, then surely this moment would end. âI graduate in two more months.â
âThen I will wait.â His chin pressed onto the top of her head. âAfterall, you put yourself through the trouble of waiting for this whole time.â
She flushed furiously and finally stared up at him, ready to protest. But Juminâs finger hooked lightly under her chin, and he rested his forehead on hers. Shy and hesitant, her fingers found his free hand, and she laced her hold into his. They stayed there, pressed in a fragile and fluttering embrace. MC smiled and tilted her head back, nose gently brushing against his. Jumin laughed softly, and moved his hand to cup her cheek. They did not move closer, just stayed, pleased in tranquil warmth.Â
Unlike the sharp crudeness of last night, it was a slow and sweet dance that they swayed to in tandem.
#juminweek2019#jujuw19d2#jujuw19#jumin han#jumin han x mc#mysme jumin han#mysme jumin#au: university#god now all of you know about my professor kink hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh#i have no shame about this though#i hope you enjoy#i have no idea what this is
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