#little jumin things

[juminies]

hi! omg thank u for giving the translations! i also thought it might be a lost in translation thing but ur right it’s just as vague in korean??? and i think so too, considering how’s he usually so blunt and straightforward the way he was skirting around the subject is a bit ???

though i just had a thought… i remember reading that in the original version, the jumin gay “jokes” are about him being a wizard - referencing a meme about virgin men who turn 30 suddenly gaining magical powers? idk if it’s legit because i don’t know korean but i saw it mentioned a few different times by a few different people… if it was true and we take the option that he hasn’t had any prior relationship experience as the truth this might be a possible explanation for his vagueness: i was thinking that since mc has the option to play along with these “jokes” & jumin’s feeling these new unfamiliar feelings for her… he dances around the subject because, although he usually doesn’t care about such things, the constant roasting has probably affected him subconsciously and he sees his inexperience as a bad thing. he might think that telling mc the truth might give her a bad impression of him but he also doesn’t want to outright lie to her so being vague is the safest option

also ur right, considering how hurt he was with the whole sarah debacle, it makes sense that chairman han probably hasn’t done something similar to him before. i never thought about it that way!!

the uni experience thing… if he ever did date, he’d probably have done it during this time but i feel like it’s unlikely due to the points in the previous ask. the sleeping with someone i can’t see happening at all for a few reasons: he’s always going on about the no living together before marriage thing, even with mc who he loves he wants to wait, he mentions he’s conservative, and him hating his father’s womanizing ways leads me to think he would steer clear from anything casual. also, with all the women who have been making inappropriate advances towards him throughout his life and him having nightmares about it… i can potentially see him not feeling comfortable enough to want to experience physical intimacy unless it was with someone he trusted and felt safe with, especially for his first time… and he mentions rika being the first woman in his life he felt comfortable around…

honestly with how often it’s mentioned that jumin not’s interested in women or relationships and jumin himself straight up saying he hates women, i personally don’t think he’s let himself get close enough to a woman to have any romantic or sexual experience at all, like i deadass don’t think he’s even held hands in a romantic sense

i think ur “come meet my friend and his daughter” theory seems to be the most plausible! it’s the least contradictory with the other information we’ve been given. it’d work around the jumin not being interested in women or relationships … by having chairman han getting jumin to come along as a kind of casual get together and then making himself and his friend scarce, leaving jumin alone with the daughter. it’d also explain the bit about him saying that he doesn’t even know if he can even say he saw them.

anyway that is a lot of writing over like 2 sentences said by jumin lmao but it’s fun to theorize

also i am HERE for the chairman han post, that man needs a good slandering!!!

to clarify, I have always thought that he's a virgin prior to meeting MC! I agree he does not at all come across as the casual type for a plethora of reasons, most of which you mentioned already. it seems that he puts quite a lot of weight on wanting sex with MC to be right, too, whatever that means to him. I think most theories for why he would not be a virgin are kind of absurd hahah. I have seen people imply that he was sleeping with women to get them to sign contracts which.. no comment. he was just being handsome and charming.

I mainly mentioned university as a possible (albeit unlikely) scenario because it's the one time in his life we know practically nothing about, and Jumin being abroad for his studies dually makes it the perfect time to make bad and/or out of character choices. curiosity is a very big part of Jumin's personality and so while I don't personally think it happened I do think if he was hypothetically to have slept with someone at any point it would have been as a one-time, rather literal experiment at nineteen or twenty. written results afterwards and everything. it would also give him psychic damage.

I do also agree he probably sees his lack of inexperience as a bad thing, honestly, which is sad because it's definitely not :( he seems a little self-conscious generally when it comes to MC, hyperaware of himself and how she might perceive him. he says himself it's unlike him to care about what other people think, and I think it's actually very cute that he gets a bit frazzled by it all. I love him so much.

[danandphilplay]

feel like i should say that i think this is unrealistic LOL bc mystic messenger is superrr specific with times you play it is kind of a full commitment 😭

game summary: mystic messenger is a free mobile game where decisions and gameplay is all set in an app/groupchats. at the beginning of the game your phone is mysteriously hacked, adding you to a chat with an unknown person who persuades you to enter an apartment. once you enter you are added into another groupchat, this time with several characters who accuse you of being a hacker. you’re informed that the groupchat is top secret, and the app can only be used by RFA members (you thought it was a dating app…). the other RFA members slowly open up to you and ask you to help organise their RFA charity party by inviting people. as you get to know the characters you find out a LOT of lore and dark pasts. like i do not know how to explain this game any further in a summarised way bc there is so much going on

the game involves multiple endings which can be bad or good as well as specific to an RFA character. from early on you should try to choose one character you like the most to talk to & aim to get their route in order to progress successfully.

**it is free but there are in game purchases bc like i said the game is based on real time the updates in the story happen at specific points of the day and if you leave it too long you won’t be able to play those updates, i believeee from what i remember the in game purchases let you go back in time to complete things you missed

[ayrennaranaaldmeri]

i saw a horrible post so i must rage

I am literally fucking losing it like if you really are (sorry) that fucking stupid and didn't pay any motherfucking attention to the motherfucking information this motherfucking game gives you about what githyanki ascension is and think lae'zel's ascension ending is only fucking questionable and there is literally no fucking cure for your brainrot bc your listening and reading comprehension is dead. lae'zel became lich food, she's dead. she's gone. it's not just ominous, it's bad. she's fucking dead. WITHERS COULDN'T FIND HER.

like for the love of god you can like a negative character development ending, i.e the "bad" ending without trying to twist it like its secretly a good ending.

you are so disingenuous in how much you need g*d!Gale or ascended!ast**rion to be a morally good choice for you to make that you'll treat the extinguishing of lae'zel's life as only ~questionable or try to justify sh*rheart as well its not so bad when it's like did you have your eyes open at all during this character's storyline. genuinely. why would it be bad for a character who has a divine shock collar that gives her unbearable pain every time she committed wrongthink by being herself (and yet she still keeps committing wrongthink for a few decades bc that's just who she is), to then shackle herself to the one who gave her the divine shock collar, esp when one of the major steps towards that is made when she's completely uninformed and just thinks she wants to do that and isn't really aware that the goddess she's about to kill the gay aasimar for had her kidnapped as a child and have regularly had her brutalise her parents and wipe her memory since then for like over 30 years. you can enjoy evilheart but that doesn't really stop it from being the worse ending in terms of how happy she is.

Like, imagine calling it "the endings where characters get what they want" and then saying its bad writing if they're all bad. all that means is that you fundamentally misunderstood the text bc that is an extremely shallow read lol bc none of these people are experiencing the level of contentment they do in their (and i know this is a very scary word but its okay i promise) good endings.

[killjoy-prince]

You know, in hindsight, there were signs

[ghostiedreamsz]

I am not insane anymore

After getting further into Jaehee’s route, I can finally say I am complacent in just being her friend. I do not have to date her for this route to be one of my favorites. Jaehee’s got enough childhood baggage and beef with her boss to uncover, it doesn’t make sense for her to seek a relationship right now. She needs people to support her, like me and Zen (but mostly me), and then she can decide if she wants to form romantic relationships!

Friends don’t call friends their “guardian angel” though

[amazinglyashy]

Omg hiiiii i love reading your stories and hcs❤️❤️❤️ just read the one about how the LaDS boys would react to your fictional bf (love that jumin made an appearance lolol) and was thinking, what do you think their reactions would be if your fictional crush was the OPPOSITE of them. Like zaynes MC loves a yoosung type, or sylus's loves a 707 type. Sorry if you're not taking requests or this has already been done!

It's funny you say that, because I'm literally the opposite of every single thing my own partner has ever looked for in a girl. Like, every single thing. Coincidentally, I'm also his longest relationship and the only reason he hasn't proposed is because we both want him to secure a job in his field first. Ya girl may have a ring on her finger in a year at the soonest-- LOVE this prompt, hope you enjoy!!

LaDS when your fictional partner is the opposite type they are -

Rafayel -

It's going to go to his head, sorry to say.

There is no stopping it, it's gone straight to his head.

He's so smug to find out that your fictional boyfriend is absolutely nothing like himself- making some vaguely confusing comment about just how much your subconscious must remember loving him in the past, and how determined it must be to bring the two of you together.

That and how he totally and completely owned whoever this Lucifer guy is on your phone.

Details matter not to him.

"Wow, I knew I was pretty good, but I didn't know how much of a catch I truly was until you reeled me in, haha!"

"What."

"Nothing, cutie, just talking about how I totally own every single type of guy."

The more you talk to him, the more confused you get, to the point where you honestly stop trying. But hey, at least he seems happy..?

You guess that's all the matters.

Xavier -

Zayne -

It gives him just a shred of self doubt in how much you truly like him, but otherwise, he's happy about it.

To him, it feels like you must truly love him if you chose him and his personality over anything that you've ever picked before in a love interest, fictional or otherwise.

Occasionally will ask you whether or not you like a certain aspect about himself - that's where a lot of the doubt plays a role. But after much assurance and some quiet pouting, he'll believe you.

He'll have mild "arguments" with whoever your main fictional partner is that's so different from him, partly because it helps him blow off some steam, and partly because it makes you laugh.

"Why don't you tell the weird stalker guy in your book that you like me better because I gave you extra tokens on the claw machine? Why are you laughing? Do it!"

He is ultimately just happy you're happy, though, even if he is a butt about it sometimes.

Absolutely thinks its cute.

He's a little bit surprised that you went for someone like him, especially if there are multiple characters that are starkly the opposite of Zayne that you enjoy or consider a fictional partner or crush to any degree.

Sylus -

But he also doesn't put too much weight on it- he's never been too big on 'types' or anything. He knows you're his, but he also thinks people who are meant to find each other will find each other, regardless of appearances or personality.

He doesn't necessarily believe in soul mates or things like that, but he does think adjancently.

He has a lot of fun pointing out things he does that are the opposite of what your fictional partner would do- and yes, it's mostly to show you just how much he pays attention to the things you like in great detail.

It will be at the most random of times as well, without any prior prompting from you, so you definitely know how serious he is about it--

He definitely notices it the second you show him the character and describe them to him.

It's got to be one of the funniest things he's heard come out of your mouth.

He has to have a mental debate on whether or not he mentions his observation to you or not- wondering if he leaves it alone if he'll get to hear even more fun differences between him and the fictional other without you even realizing what's happened.

He stays quiet on it for a couple of weeks, but then you bring up something else that's so glaringly different from himself, he can't hold back the chuckle that comes from his mouth the next moment.

Upon your questioning, he'll ask you to repeat yourself and consider the same circumstance with your... current boyfriend.

When you don't process what he's trying to get at, he'll hover over you, with his arm holding the back of your chair past you head, leaning down to smile as he holds your gaze.

"I just think it's sweet how... different, I am- compared to your little fictional boyfriend, sweetie. I guess that goes to show just how determined fate was to bring us together."

[astridthevalkyrie]

honeymoon period | jumin han x reader

After Jumin marries you, slowly, his threads start to untangle.

a/n: my first and probably last long jumin fic. this has been in the works for months, literally what i've been stalling on superior for (pre keigo 😭) i hope you all enjoy! i love this man <3

warnings: afab reader with she/her pronouns, some depressing thoughts, smut, oral (m and f receiving), penetrative sex, references to kinks that they both have, references/nightmares about abuse including sexual harassment, insecurity, jumin's comedy lol

word count: 13.2k (only a little less than the last superior chapter that is cray cray)

There is a knock on your door.

It makes you jump. Not that you’re nervous—it’s a hotel and several of your friends and family are here to see you get married, so naturally many of them know where your room is. The room itself is, of course, lavish, a paradise compared to most of your previous lodgings. Honestly, you miss the penthouse.

No, that’s not quite right. You just miss being curled up on the couch, tucked into Jumin’s chest with Elizabeth on your lap, wine on his lips and love in his eyes. You miss him, even though you saw him last this morning. You know he’s in the hotel lobby being forced to get wasted by Luciel, because the hacker in question has sent you dozens of videos of your fiancé. In one of them, when Zen reminds him he’s getting married tomorrow, a goofy smile breaks out on his face as he ducks his head.

Maybe the wedding wasn’t necessary. Maybe you two could have just signed the necessary papers without having to go a full day without seeing each other. How are you supposed to sleep tonight? You could call him, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Sighing, you make your way to the door. If it’s one of your friends trying to convince you to let loose or a family member coming to check up on you, you’re not in the mood.

When you open the door, your fiancé is standing there.

“Jumin!��

All questions on the tip of your tongue disappear when he brings you into his arms, burying his face in your neck with a content sigh. There’s no urgency in it, just a quiet, sudden happiness, like he’s fully aware that in just a few hours he won’t have to worry about you being anywhere but in his arms again.

“Thank you.” His voice breaks the silence, muffled on your skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”

Your eyes well up with tears. What an emotional bride you’re turning out to be. And what a wonderful groom you have, to somehow know exactly what you need even when he’s not completely sober.

Slowly, you wrap your arms around him as well, breathing in the scent of his shampoo as you press a kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re welcome, Jumin.”

///

There has never been a lovelier sight than your smile, and Jumin hopes you know that.

If you don’t, he’ll just have to convince you.

“Hi, sweetheart.” You’re sporting a grin for him—just for him—wearing nothing but one of his shirts with Elizabeth the Third scurrying out from between your feet when she sees him. There’s a pink bottle on the counter. Frosting, he thinks. “I hope you don’t mind, but having a chef cook for us for a month straight has ruined my palate for anything else. I had to cook for myself again before I got spoiled. I can call him to make you dinner if you don’t want to eat what I made, though!”

“Of course not.” The urge to embrace you is unbearable. A month after the wedding, and his first day back at work after the honeymoon, he still can’t seem to keep his hands off. “What did you make? I’ll eat anything.”

He leans down to take Elizabeth the Third in his arms, scratching the back of her head softly. “Alright! I made stew and baked some cupcakes, I hope you like it. But you should probably change first. Slip into something more comfortable.”

“Ironic, considering you and I are wearing the same thing.”

“Well…” You lean over the counter, making a show of ogling him. “If you really want to match, you can leave the shirt on and take off your pants.”

It’s impossible to even try and stop the smile growing on his face. “Would you like that?”

“Come over here and find out, hubby.”

The nickname makes him flush pleasantly, but instead of taking you up on that extremely tempting offer, he simply walks up and presses a kiss to your forehead. You pout, and with the tact of knowing Elizabeth is still in his arms, you tug on his tie and kiss him properly. Jumin’s brain turns off, if only for a few seconds. As long as you kiss him and he kisses you back, the only thing he knows is you, you, you and nothing else.

Now, instead of changing, he’s holding his cat and kissing you in the kitchen. With just a minor breakaway and murmured apology, he’s no longer holding his cat. His hands slide around your back and pull you in, and your hands meet at the base of his neck. You. Only you. 

“Ju-min,” you admonish breathlessly, the second he pulls away to trail hurried kisses down your neck. “Dinner first.”

“Mm. I’m not hungry.” Or he is, but not for dinner.

Your hands come to rest on his chest, but you don’t pull away, and Jumin is beyond grateful. He doesn’t want to eat, doesn’t want to sleep or shower or do anything else when he could be showing you just how much he’d missed you at work today. 

Slightly pressed into the counter, you place your hands back and jump onto it, and he eagerly steps in between your legs to kiss you again. Your legs wrap around his waist and your hands tangle in his hair—a habit of yours, he’s noticed, to mess his hair up. He doesn’t mind. Not if it makes you happy. 

Finally, you pull away and before he can dive back in for yet another kiss, you dip your finger into the bowl next to you and offer it up to him. Without even considering it, he takes your finger in between his lips and licks the gravy off.

It’s only after he registers the taste does Jumin realize how intimate the action is. And of course, he knows that you’re married, that you and he have seen each other absolutely bare and open to one another, that he is literally making out with you in his—in your—in your shared kitchen. He knows that despite everyone thinking that the marriage was rushed and impulsive, this will be a long road, and he plans to stick by you for each and every single step. He knows that tasting something off your finger is hardly the most domestic thing you two will do.

But it doesn’t stop the flurry of butterflies he feels in his stomach. It doesn’t stop him from thinking my wife is letting me taste what she made, because she’s perfect. That’s not to mention how wonderful the taste actually is.

“Good?” you question, with gleaming eyes.

“Incredible.” He takes your hand and dips your finger in the bowl, stealing another taste right after. “More than incredible. The best stew I’ve ever had.”

“I know you’re flattering me.” Leaning forward, you take his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Softly, gently, like he’s something fragile that will break if you use any force. “But I’m not complaining. Keep going.”

“Food is always better when a beautiful woman is the one serving it.”

You beam. The butterflies in his stomach do a victory soar.

Jumin Han is in love.

///

Zen has a dream about you. That’s when the problem starts.

He tells it to the group in great detail—it’s not anything romantic or sexual, but Jumin doesn’t see a reason for you to be in his subconscious at all, even if you were just the supposed director for Zen’s dream movie. You’re not any sort of movie director, so the dream is ridiculous at any rate.

It doesn’t stop him from pouncing on you the second you two get back home. You don’t even get to take a seat before he’s pressing you against the door, ensuring it’s locked (the last thing he needs is for one of the security guards to see this and have dreams about you too) and kissing you possessively. 

“Jumin—?” There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but it cuts off into a delicious moan when he starts sucking and biting all the same spots he knows he left hickeys on during your honeymoon. 

“Spend the day with me,” he whispers. “Just me, no one else.”

An amused giggle bubbles from your throat. “I was already gonna do that, honeybunny.”

Good. That’s plenty of time for him to mark up your neck (and other places) so that everyone knows you’re his, and other people can stop dreaming of you. Already his mind is filled with wicked thoughts, of how he can make you cry and beg and scream today. From the time you two spent on your honeymoon, he knows you can get quite loud if he puts his mind to it.

The only limit is his imagination.

“Jumin.” Your head tilts back against the door, eyes closed as his tongue soothes a bite mark he just made. “Ah, J-Jumin, are you jealous?”

“No.” He is.

“I know what possessiveness looks like.” You take his hand in yours and press a kiss to each fingertip. “You know that me being in Zen’s dream isn’t something in our or even his control?”

“Of course I know that.” He huffs, impatiently fiddling with the buttons on your shirt. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

He kisses you again, and you hum in understanding, sliding your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. It’s amazing, no matter how many times he thinks everyone would dismiss him for being ridiculous over something like this, you are always there to prove that at least one person wouldn’t. And you taste. So. Damn. Good. 

So why not taste you all over? Jumin hungrily slides his tongue over your teeth, seeking entrance. When your mouth parts for him, he tastes you intimately, swallowing your soft sighs. 

“For the record,” you mumble, out of breath, “I only ever dream about you.”

“As do I, darling.” He pulls you closer still, thinking about how good you’ll taste when he has his mouth on your pussy. “As do I.”

///

This need to prove himself to you extends beyond the sexual—you laugh so much when you’re around Luciel and Yoosung. Actual laughter that is so different from the polite smiles and chuckles that are in response to his own words.

He hates it. He hates it so very much. He wants to make you laugh, full blown and unabashed. As much as he likes making you giggle, he wants to make you laugh so hard that there are tears pouring down your cheeks. And his experience has quite readily set him up for the expectation that if he wants something, he will have it.

And now, what he really, really wants is to see his wife lose her in laughter because of him.

That means it’s time to bring out the big guns.

Right now you’re under the covers, reading glasses on as you flip through a book. The book in question is something from his personal library (when he showed it to you, mentioning a scene from Beauty and the Beast, you had promptly told him that he was not a beast, but that you finally understood how the princess felt in that scene). 

To an extent, Jumin feels bad when he distracts you from work or requests your attention. But he tries to remind himself that if you didn’t want it, you were more than capable of telling him as much. And your reaction to him crawling on top of you with his arms on either side would certainly not be to put the book aside and pull him down to lay on your chest with a kiss to the crown of his head.

For once in his life, Jumin is certain that he is loved.

“I have a joke,” he tells you matter-of-factly, and your brow raises.

“What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, he raises himself up so he can take a good look at your face.

“Hit Seoul, hit Daejon, hit Daegu, hit Busan, hit it!”

There’s a long pause, and your surprised expression slowly morphs into a giggle, then at his grin, a chortle. Jumin laughs first, and then you do too, throwing your head back. It’s single-handedly the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“W-what—“ You’re wheezing now, shoulders shaking. “What does that even mean?”

“I cast a spell on you. Those who laugh are no ordinary souls, for your information.”

“You are so perfect.” The praise catches him off guard, but your body is still shaking from laughter, and in your eyes he sees something like adoration. “How are you so perfect?”

That is definitely not a word he associates with his humor. His status, money, company, business acumen? Yes, perfect, as they were always meant to be. But the little flips in his stomach tell him that none of those things are what you’re referring to. The look in your eyes—he never sees you look at material objects or money that way. He has only ever seen it aimed towards him, and Jumin realizes with a start that there is no need to compete with Zen or Yoosung or Luciel—because really, there is no competition to begin with.

///

Being a workaholic comes with benefits. Everything always gets done. And he enjoys doing business, so there is no negative side effect…other than the lost time that could be spent with his wife. Typing away on the computer he has set up in his study, Jumin sighs, cracking his neck every half hour or so. He’s been at it for hours, but there’s still more left to do.

A soft knock makes him look up. You peek your head in, blinking sleepily and all wrapped up in a blanket. “Sorry to disturb,” in a whisper that barely reaches his ears, “can I sleep here, honey?”

Jumin beckons you in, looking around dubiously. “I’m sorry, I don’t think there’s any surface here you’d be comfortable on. I don’t want you to have an ache by tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” Your eyes keep blinking closed, as though you’re barely staying awake. All your words are hushed, but you still manage to clamber over to his side of the desk, blanket in tow, and fall onto his lap, burying your face in his chest. 

With a start, he catches you, holding you close. “What is it, sweetheart? You can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, getting even more comfortable. “The bed’s too cold.”

Something indescribable squeezes his chest. Above everything, the pleasure that you would rather seek warmth from him rather than get another blanket is all-consuming. Without another word, he stands with you in his arms and walks to the bed. The second he steps into the bedroom, your grip on him becomes a little tighter.

He huffs back a small laugh. “I’m not going anywhere. I’d just rather you sleep here.”

Pulling out a second blanket from the closet for good measure, he lays down on the bed with you, throwing both blankets over your bodies before wrapping you up in his arms. You sigh happily, legs mixing with his and face pressing in his chest once more.

“Sorry for distracting you.” Now your voice is barely audible. “Mm…you’re just…so much warmer…”

“Can I ask you a favor?” You hum softly in response. “Please never apologize for demanding my attention. I am yours, that includes my body, my soul, and my time. Should you ever need me to sleep and I am in the office, please call me and I’ll come home immediately. I’ll take the jet home if I have to. That doesn’t just stop at my time either. If there is anything, anything, you would like, then all you have to do is ask me. I’ll buy you anything. The world is at your disposal.”

There’s a pause and Jumin thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you break the silence, quietly asking, “Is it okay if I ask you for something, then?”

“Anything.”

Cute but glossy eyes peer up at him, and you blink rapidly. “A kiss?”

Jumin places his hands on your cheeks, catching the stray tear that falls. Then he leans in, and everything is right with the world.

///

Ice Prince.

Jumin has no idea where the title actually came from. He doesn’t see what’s wrong with someone having control of their emotions. Is he expected to cry or rage at every little thing? That’s a genuine question. Maybe he doesn’t show much emotion at all, and he should. He’s open to advice.

It shouldn’t even be on his mind. He’s watching a soap opera, and the most beautiful woman in the world is in his arms. He enjoys watching your reactions more than watching the show itself, whether you’re holding back an aww or wincing. Every so often, you look up and meet his eyes, giving him a sweet smile each and every time before placing your head back on his chest. 

Still, he can’t get the article he read earlier out of his head. Has the Ice Prince really settled down? What kind of life does the new Mrs. Han lead? One can only imagine that she does not get many warm moments with Jumin Han. A speedy divorce would not be surprising.

Just the thought makes him tug you in closer, the idea of you leaving never failing to terrify him. He’s gotten better, he doesn’t freak out over you exiting the penthouse or hanging out with friends or working. He’d told himself harshly that he would not drive you away with his overt possessiveness.

But maybe he’s going to drive you away if he can’t learn to show you his emotions and instead continues to be…well, an ice prince, as much as he hates the term.

“Jumin.” You’re pressing a kiss to his throat, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Are you tired, honey? We can go to bed.”

When he looks down, you’re gazing concernedly up at him. He doesn’t feel like a villain when you look upon him like this. And holding you close is not the only privilege he has here. Taking your face in his hands, he kisses you, and you melt in almost immediately. Jumin knows that you’re starting to get sleepy because you don’t make any move to straddle him further.

The man who knows you best—that is what the articles should be about. Doting husband. Family man. Your partner. How could anyone think he was cold or heartless to you?

“Juju,” you mumble softly, not bothering to break the kiss, “we should get to bed.”

Yes, you’re right. However…

“May I ask you a question?” His curiosity and slight anxiousness requires him to make sure. If he’s ever done anything to make you think he’s some kind of robot, he needs to get rid of such behavior immediately.

Your lips quirk like he’s said something funny. “You may.”

“Have I ever seemed…cold to you?” Almost as if to remind you before you answer, he holds your hand, squeezing gently, while the other hand remains on your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin softly. “Since we’ve been together, I mean. Have I ever acted anything like an…” Jumin cringes just saying it out loud. “Ice prince?”

The question seems to take you aback, and you blink a few times. Your eyes—warm, beautiful eyes—first stare at him with a certain confusion, then quickly become infused with a sudden anger.

“Did someone say that about you? Who was it?”

“No one,” he responds, then hastily amends, “there have always been articles calling me that. I just happened to see one today, so it was on my mind.”

Now, you really do straddle him, threading your fingers through his hair. The anger has dulled into a stubborn crossness. With a deep scowl, you kiss his forehead and say, “That is ridiculous. You have been nothing but warm to me, Jumin Han.”

The same warmth you’re talking about spreads across his cheeks, painting them pink, but you’re not done.

“Since when do you care about those articles anyway? They’ve always been inane. Remember when everyone was convinced that you would marry Sarah?” Here you huff, and he hates to admit that he loves seeing you jealous, even if over someone he never even considered getting to know. “And you had to set them straight for them to print anything accurate. Maybe I should give a press statement of my own. Ice Prince my ass.”

“Such language,” Jumin says lowly, already hiding his face in your neck. You’re still peeved, muttering things under your breath as you stroke his hair, angry kisses pressed to his skin in the middle of your rant.

Eventually, you tire yourself out, falling asleep right there on his chest, a common occurrence. He doesn’t mind it one bit, it’s actually really easy to carry you to bed. For some reason, Jumin feels much, much lighter.

///

His wife is a party planner. An event planner, technically, since you’ll take some requests for meetings as well, but it’s mostly parties. He knows that due to your marriage, there’s been an increase in the amount of clients wanting you to plan their events. Even before, you’d said your schedule had always been sporadic, revolving around whatever the current most pressing event was.

Frankly, he shouldn’t be surprised, with how masterfully you pulled off the RFA party. 

He’s more than proud of you, of course. He’s now attended quite a few of the events you put together, and it always leaves him impressed. You’ve confided in him about how you’d like to either switch to a company that exclusively does weddings or start your own, and despite your protests, he’s fully prepared to finance such an endeavor when the time comes.

The only issue about your job, and his job as well, is that your schedules can be sporadic. There are days where you can work without even leaving the penthouse, and then there are days where you are running around and don’t return until 2 AM. Jumin can hardly get upset when he’s taunted the clock with his record times at coming home as well.

Can’t get upset at you, that is. Being upset at the situation is perfectly reasonable. He wants to spend time with his wife, dammit. You’re his favorite person in the world, all the things he wants to do involve being with you.

So when he’s the one who’s arriving at 2 in the morning, he deflates to see that you’re fast asleep, a couple documents and your phone in the bed next to you. How many times has he told you he would set up a separate room for you to work in? Each time, you shake your head and say all you need is your phone and laptop, and you can work anywhere. That doesn’t take into account your health, though. The place you relax should not be associated with work, or it leads to a less relaxing sleep cycle. He once read a study about that.

It might be hypocritical, but Jumin misses you. He wants to talk to you so badly it pains him, and not just longing phone calls that always leave him wanting more.

Loosening his tie, he waits for a second before falling hard onto the bed.

Your eyes flutter open immediately, and in your daze you take in your still-dressed husband. With a sleepy smile, you push away all the papers next to you to snuggle into his arms. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you.” One arm secured around your back, he pulls you as close to him as you can. He sees you breathe in his lingering cologne, and it makes him downright giddy that his scent seems to bring you comfort. “Shouldn’t a loving wife be waiting up for her husband?”

You yawn, throwing one leg around him. “Not when the husband returns at an ungodly time and the wife has an early morning site inspection. Did you have dinner?”

“I did. Did you?”

“Mmh. Yeah. I refrigerated some in a container if you wanna take it to work tomorrow.” 

This is one of his favorite domestic things you do—and he doesn’t even think you realize how much he appreciates it. If it’s between having something from a five star restaurant or having your cooking, the latter will win each and every time. Sometimes he wants to brag  to the whole world, although the most he’ll do is slip how tasty his lunch was today to Assistant Kang (who will almost always respond with a dry, “Glad to hear that, Mr. Han.”).

“I will.” Jumin kisses your lips, smiling when he feels you respond with little effort. “I’ve missed you.”

Your arms snake around his waist as you tuck your head under his chin. Jumin sighs when he feels you kiss his collarbone. “I’ve missed you too.” All he needs is your breath on his skin, or your hands on his face, or your voice filling his ears. It relaxes him instantly. “What’s your schedule like tomorrow?”

“I’ll be in the office all day.” Already he groans, burying his face in your hair in the hopes that it will preemptively soothe the headache sure to form tomorrow. At first he didn’t understand why you insisted on using the same hair conditioner you always did instead of a much more expensive one he could buy for you, but the smell of your hair is so exquisite that now he wholly prefers it (although there is a special kind of tingling in his chest reserved for the moments you smell like him). 

“Same. After my inspection, I’m going to be meeting four new clients, and I’m going to guess they all want priority.” You roll your eyes, carding your fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow is also Mr. Wang’s wedding, so I’ll be back late.”

At his wordless whine, you giggle, kissing his cheek. Then after a few seconds of thoughtful silence, a soft hum sounds from your throat.

“I have an idea.”

///

The click of Jaehee’s heels alerts him to her entrance, and Jumin straightens in his chair, accepting the papers that she hands him. 

“Thank you. Have you eaten, Assistant Kang?”

Jaehee blinks at him once, then twice, like he’s grown an extra head. Then she slowly nods, the surprised expression melting back into her perfectly professional one once more. “Yes, sir. And you?”

“Not yet. I brought a container my wife packed for me.”

“Honey, I don’t think she really cares to know that.”

“I see. She is a pretty good cook if I recall correctly.”

“Everyone cares,” Jumin insists. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re so sweet, it’s annoying. I want to kiss you all the time.”

“Mr. Han, are you alright? You look a bit out of it—should I call for a doctor?”

“Do it.” He smiles at the papers in his hands. “I won’t stop you.”

“Call…call the doctor?”

“Will you kiss me back, in front of all your employees?”

“Yes. Of course. Whatever you desire.”

“Right away, sir,” Jaehee responds in a sort of strangled voice, and it’s not until he hears the click of her heels again that he remembers she was there. In almost a flash, she leaves his office. 

“What did she say?”

Jumin touches the tiny earpiece that’s been on all day, adjusting it only slightly. “I honestly have no idea.”

///

Jumin hates leaving. But he does, well, what is the phrase? Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave? Something along those lines, is what you’ve said to him. He’s not sure it applies here, since he is actually leaving to go abroad for a few days, and already he’s looking forward to his reunion with you, but he didn’t expect that both of you would be so needy for each other the night before the flight.

It starts with a few kisses, a pout on your lips that he thinks he can kiss away if he just tries hard enough. Telling you in hushed whispers that he’ll miss you an unfathomable amount. Your understanding on a pragmatic level, and your clinginess the second you both laid down. Both are appreciated more than he can say.

“What if I want to watch a movie with you?”

Kiss. “Just wait a week for me, my love.”

“What if the bed is too cold and I need you to warm me up?”

Kiss. “One week, I promise. No more than a week.”

“What if aliens invade the penthouse and I have no one to protect me?”

Kiss. “Tell them that your husband is going to kill them…in a week.”

For a few minutes, it goes on like this, with you proposing other scenarios and Jumin doing his best to both reassure you and make you laugh. He lays kiss upon kiss to your lips, and perhaps subconsciously, they become more ravenous, demanding. Seeking more. Seeking your conviction on just how much you will miss him.  

“Jumin,” you breathe into his mouth. Jumin, Jumin. He loves how you say his name.

You’re seeking something as well, the warmth that you are so certain will disappear along with him. On one hand, he hates that his princess has to sleep without him at all, especially when she clearly doesn’t want to. And on the other hand, knowing that you’ll be here, missing him so desperately, makes his heart flutter. You’ll miss him. You’ll miss him.

Within moments, you’re on top of him, seated on his lap and unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt. He’s responding in kind, leaving love bites on your neck as he slides your night robe off your shoulders. 

“What if I get lonely?” you ask, more demure than you actually are. “What if I need you, and my fingers aren’t enough?”

His hands press into your hips, hard enough to bruise. You mewl at the slight pain, and he manages to hiss, “I never want your fingers to be enough. If you wait for me, princess, I’ll make you cum more times than you can handle when I get back.” Even if just the idea of you sending him a video or even calling him as you touch yourself was incredibly appealing. Maybe next time. This week, he would have you think of nothing but his own fingers, his tongue, his cock.

And what better way to do that than to remind you how they feel?

“I’ll be gone seven days exactly.” Spoken more to your breasts than you, but he does gaze up at you reverently as he kneads them in his hands. “Maybe tonight I can make you cum once for every day I won’t be here. Would you like that?”

He jerks his thigh up against your core before you can answer, so you nod frantically, mouth falling open. “Uh huh!”

And who is Jumin to ever deny you?

///

The trip right before Valentine’s is the worst. It’s all Jumin can do to finish work before running like a madman through several different stores, picking up this and that. He insists on a different bag for each purchase, despite the clerks gently pointing out that he can put a lipstick tube in the same bag as a pair of heels and nothing will happen, but he doesn’t want to. He would like to see you open every item with a new spark of delight in your eyes.

Usually, he would return late at night, always opting to finish the day’s work and catch a flight right after instead of waiting for morning, because this way he would arrive home, gather you up in his arms as you slept soundly, and then bask in your surprise and delight when you woke the next morning. 

And this time would have been no different if one of the departments had not messed up, forcing him to wake up on Valentine’s Day still out of the country. After five days’ worth of work forced into two hours, a shopping spree and a quick call with you, he nearly takes the wheel from the pilot himself before Jaehee begs him to just sit and try to enjoy the ride home. The rest of the trip, they are engaged in a glaring contest every time she looks up from the video she is watching on her laptop. 

As soon as the door opens, he hears a surprised cry of his name, and then you’re barreling into him—all the bags in Jumin’s hands fall to the floor in favor of catching you and hefting you up in the air for a spin. 

“I thought—“ Kiss. “That you—“ Kiss. “Weren’t coming back today!“ Deeper kiss.

“I couldn’t miss my first Valentine’s with you, my love.” The deepest kiss of all.

The two of you only stop because his bodyguards are coming into the room after him, with more bags. Your eyes widen as you take in all of them, and your sharp mind has already pieced together what’s going on. “Is this all for me?”

“Of course.” Jumin knows that the way you’re latching onto him with such a tight grip is a more priceless gift than anything in these bags. “Why don’t you open everything? I wish to see your reaction.”

And so you do. The makeup, the shoes, the clothes, the jewelry, the books, the decor, all of fine quality and all things well thought out with your interests in mind. With every single item, no matter how big or small, you gasp, or squeal, or simply smile ever so widely. And without fail, you kiss him right on the lips each time.

Jumin is dizzy only halfway into the opening process—he must start buying you gifts far more often if this is the reward he gets.

However, you see beyond just his outward appearance, and you place the next bag he hands you aside without so much as a glimpse at it before clambering onto his lap. Hands on his cheeks, your thumbs smooth over where he’s sure eyebags are forming. “My poor Juju,” you whisper, “you look really tired, honey.”

Honey, honey, honey. How joyful he feels when you call him honey. “As always, you see right through me. I can’t hide from you, can I?”

“I never want you to hide from me.” A sweet kiss pressed to his cheek makes his stomach jump, like he’s a teenage boy with a crush. “Let’s lay down, shall we? We can finish opening everything afterwards.”

Jumin concedes, rising hand in hand with you until you’re both on the bed, curled up in each other. “What a terrible Valentine’s this turned out to be. I’m sorry, my love.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, kissing him slow, soft and smooth. “What are you talking about? You’re here where I can hold you, we’re both off work, and you’ve gifted me more than anyone else ever has or will in my life.”

“Good,” he says, satisfied that he’s set a standard that no one else can ever match for you. “But is that…enough?”

“Enough?” Your tone is incredulous. “Jumin, just you being here is more than enough. I love you so, so much, and I—“ You cut yourself off, slightly backing up as though you’re trying not to overwhelm him (a ridiculous notion, he would love nothing more than for you to overwhelm his every sense). “I cannot believe how lucky I am to have married you.”

This time he kisses you, the idea of sleep slipping further and further away because really, why should he close his eyes when he can only see you when they’re open? Why should he rob himself of the privilege to gaze upon your lovely face and listen to your quiet, soothing voice? Why should he do anything else, eat or drink or work or play, when he could simply kiss you for the rest of his life?

“I love you,” he breathes, pulling you closer because you simply can never be close enough. “Happy Valentine’s, my precious wife.”

///

Of course, the first time your schedule allows you to accompany him on a business trip he’s ecstatic. Finally a week without the headache of returning to an empty hotel room, and instead what will feel like more of a vacation, especially once he completes the necessary work and the two of you can spend the rest of the days lazing by the beach.

Because of the honeymoon, Jumin had become well acquainted with your fear of flying, and had arranged your seats in his private jet to be close together. As the jet takes off, he holds your hand in his as you squeeze, eyes shut tightly for the takeoff. Reassuringly, he kisses your hand, rubbing the back of it while his other hand strokes Elizabeth the Third’s head through the carrier she’s in. 

“Poor Elizabeth,” you manage to whimper, still looking quite pale even after the takeoff is done, “I hope she doesn’t get airsick.”

“She doesn’t,” Jumin reassures. Elizabeth is used to such flights, unlike you. He’d much rather you focus on your own health right now.

The stewardess for the flight comes through with the cart of food and drinks. “Anything for you, Mr. Han?”

“A glass of wine.”

“Of course, sir. And you, Mrs. Han?”

“Oh, um…” You smile sheepishly up at her. “Would you happen to have apple juice?”

The woman blinks once, then, as though she’s fighting back a laugh, says, “Apple juice, ma’am?”

“Is that a problem?” Jumin cuts in sharply before you can answer, glaring daggers.

“No, no! O-of course I can give you apple juice, ma’am, I didn’t mean to offend—“

“No offense taken.” Even nauseous and teased, you smile kindly, eyes lighting up when you have your drink. If he remembers correctly, he used to drink apple juice when he would get airsick as a child as well.

When the stewardess leaves, you lean over and press an apple-tasting kiss to his lips, and he catches a few drops of the juice in his mouth. It tastes yummy, or maybe it’s just the taste of you that he likes. 

Probably the latter. Either way, he’s eager to get this vacation started.

///

“I feel so good that you’re here. Thank you so much for coming. I…never want to let you go.”

…

“I’ve trapped you here, haven’t I?” he asks one night, after he thinks you’ve fallen asleep.

You’re wide awake, though, and he feels your lips on his throat as you whisper, “I’ve never once felt trapped with you, Jumin.”

///

You’re a lightweight, and it’s the most adorable thing Jumin has ever seen. Including cat photos. Including Elizabeth the Third. And you don’t realize just how cute you are, which only makes you cuter.

“Juju,” you whine, when he starts to guide you to bed.

“You have to sleep, my dear.” Almost smugly, he places a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Sleep and allow me to take care of you in the morning.”

The protest you seemed to be ready to fire back morphs into a happy giggle as you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “I do like when you take care of me.”

“Likewise.”

For some reason, that sends you into more giggles as you press against him. “You talk so smart like. I love when you use big words.”

Biting back a smile, Jumin raises a brow. “Is likewise a big word?”

“Anything is a big word when you say it.” You kiss him softly, sliding your hands in his hair. You love messing up his hair, almost as much as he loves letting you do it. “You’re so smart. So clever. Your brain is like…” To exaggerate your point, you lean your head away, with his hands on your back to keep steady. “Soooo huge.”

“Not the only thing,” he hums slyly.

“Jumin!” Laughing, you hit his shoulder, only for him to tug you in close, making you squeak. The only downside to how well you two know each other now is that he doesn’t get to see your beautifully embarrassed face, but he still gets some wins when he catches you off guard.

“I’m only kidding, my love.” Watching your lips part for him as he leans in, Jumin kisses you this time, gently sucking your lower lip between his teeth. Let no one say he wasn’t out and open with his oral fixation when it came to you. “I’m honored to know you find me intelligent.”

You beam, nearly blinding him with how brilliant your smile is. “Intelligent, and funny. So, so funny. I love your jokes.” Now you turn your cheek, placing sloppy kisses along his jaw. “And handsome. I have the most handsome husband in the world.”

Jumin, only now realizing the difference between being happy and being giddy and knowing he’s both, can only close his eyes, tilting his head back. “Ironic for you to say, considering no one with your beauty has ever existed before nor will exist again.”

The way your cheeks flush make him realize that he, too, must be quite tipsy. Surely his stomach does not flip so violently just to see how your eyes glow at his praise.

“I love you.” You swallow, and he watches the movement of your throat closely. “Do you know how much?”

He exhales, not having realized he inhaled before. “M-more than is reasonable, I presume.”

“A lot more than is reasonable,” you whisper before kissing him again. This one is different, he can tell. Something more desperate. More wanting. More likely to make him lose his mind.

How does he know? It’s because you’re not just kissing him, you’re also borderline riding the knee he’s slotting between your legs. With a whine, you tug on his collar, as though you want him closer. Need him closer. 

Losing his mind is just the beginning.

“Sit on the couch.” The tone with which you beg makes his already hardening cock twitch. “Please, Jumin.”

He obeys—how could he not obey?—and just the sight of you dropping to your knees to unbuckle his pants has him throwing his head back with a lustful groan. How did he get here? How did he get so lucky? 

You kiss the head of his cock, and Jumin is gone.

When you start bobbing your head, eagerly sucking with your eyes closed in concentration, it takes every inch of willpower he has ever had to not cum immediately, so that this can last. With every slow caress of your tongue, he can feel himself getting lost in his own base senses, every coherent thought fading away and leaving only an animalistic need.

“Princess,” he moans, fingers in your hair. His words escape him in a slurred, barely coherent manner. “I, ahh, won’t last—shit—”

Coming inside your warm, wet mouth is not in the top five moments he remembers when he thinks of his favorite times with you, because he likes to think he’s classier than that, but regardless, he’s never going to forget this.

///

Growing up, the one trait that he was always told to avoid and to find disdainful in others was laziness. There is nothing worse than a person who is not efficient. People who waste time just doing simple tasks are not worth his time, he was told.

But surely, surely, that does not apply to you. (Or maybe it’s a silly lesson in the first place, another one to add the list he has started to garner since he married you.)

It does not apply when you have to get up early for work and you sadly try cuddling with him in the five minutes you have left to remain in bed. Most days Jumin leaves before you, pressing a kiss to the lips of the princess in bed before heading out. Your parted lips in sleep do such a number on him that he has to make sure not to linger too long.

Days where your job demands you wake with him are no less enjoyable, and perhaps even more so as he gets to witness your clinginess. Jumin tugs you to the bathroom, where you close your eyes and rest your head on his chest as both of you brush your teeth. When you finally make it to the kitchen, he seats you on the chair by the counter and amuses himself by watching your sleepy eyes follow him while he makes a quick breakfast.

“Maybe I could eat ‘n your lap?” you ask cutely, poking at your scrambled eggs with a fork. 

“My dear,” Jumin answers, intertwining your fingers to kiss the back of your hand, “I would love nothing more, but you will fall asleep again.”

Not even an argument as you nod with a lazy smile, head falling forward on the counter. “I want to fall asleep again. How do you do this every day?”

“It’s what I’ve always done.” He’s finished with his eggs, so he stands, sweeping your hair aside to lean down and press a kiss to your nape. You squeal, squirming away as he catches you and tugs you to him, watching you immediately give up this play fight and snuggle into his chest to catch a bout of standing shut-eye. “Now come, Driver Kim is waiting to drop us both off.”

You shake your head, clutching onto him stubbornly.

“You can sleep on my lap in the car.”

And he feels inordinately pleased with how fast you move after that.

///

The days that he knows you will be at the penthouse when he returns, there’s always an extra breath in his steps, as if the air itself knows he must return home immediately.

Tonight, for example. He has a whole night planned. The two of you would cook the next thing to try on that list of recipes you printed and excitedly taped up in the kitchen, then after dinner he plans to play some soft music and waltz you around the rather spacious living room, and then both of you could go for a swim in the pool, and the night would end with you dozing off in his arms.

A perfect night. The kind he dreams about, the kind that he never can quite believe are real.

When he opens the door, he doesn’t hear any call of his name nor is he tackled in a hug, which only makes his shoulders deflate slightly. Elizabeth the Third softly mrrows at him from where she’s sitting on the couch. Placing a kiss atop her head, he pokes in to check a few rooms, searching for his wife. 

You’re nowhere to be found. The only place left to check is the bedroom. His sweetheart usually doesn’t fall asleep so early, though.

He opens the door, then freezes in his tracks.

With a couple of candles lit up around the room, you sit on the bed, nothing on except the set of lingerie he ordered a few weeks ago at your request, black as the night sky (“because it reminds me of you”). A few pillows support you as you lean back, eyes trained on him. There’s a glass of wine in your hands, and another on the table next to you clearly reserved for him. 

You take a small sip, and some drops purposefully miss your lips and slowly drip down your neck, down over the swell of your breasts.

“Care to join me, husband?”

Jumin swallows.

None of his plans end up coming to fruition that night, and he doesn’t mind one bit.

///

(You’ve pointed out how the most random things turn him on—when you wear his clothes, but specifically his striped shirts, when you let him buy something ludicrously expensive for you, when you do simple things to take care of him, when you wait for him at home after work, cat ears—cat ears, cat ears, cat ears!—and the rare moments where he gets to see you pissed off.

But he’d only responded how the things you were into were equally as random—seeing him disheveled after a hard day’s work or a visit to the gym, the way he answered business calls simply by saying Jumin Han speaking, what do you need, and every time you’re naked on his lap while he’s fully clothed. 

Shall I remind you how desperate you get, my dear? he growls into your ear. Your cheeks flush, and Jumin reaches for the ribbon in the drawer, even more impatient than you are.)

///

There are other times where Jumin will arrive home and if you aren’t leaping into his arms, kissing him full on the lips as he spins you around or pins you to the wall depending on the mood, you’re sitting on the couch, typing away on your laptop either for your job or for the RFA.

In those moments, he finds himself easily sliding his arms around you and burying his face in your neck, absolutely reveling in the subconscious way you rub his nape and kiss his hair.

Sometimes you both will exchange stories of your day, expanding on something a phone call simply couldn’t cover or something that perhaps you had wanted to say in person to fully soak in the reaction (you seem to particularly enjoy how he insults the difficult clients you tell him about). Other times, there is a serene silence, only broken by Elizabeth the Third’s purring and the clack of your keyboard keys. 

You smell so good, all the time. He wonders if he should be capitalizing on the perfume you use so that no one else can buy it. That way this scent would solely be yours, just like he is. Something about that idea blooms a warmth in his chest.

The best part of the night comes when you finish, closing the laptop and setting it aside before wrapping your arms around him. “I love you,” you say, only for his ears, just like how your lips are only for his skin, just like how your scent is only for his nose, just like how Jumin is only here to be yours entirely. 

///

In the past, when he’s fallen ill, he’s either ignored it or simply just taken the necessary amount of time to recover. The last time he was pampered like this was as a child by his nannies. And even their doting paled in comparison to yours (but then, didn’t everything, when it came to you).

Because this. This, is heavenly.

Every single ounce of your affection is solely for him. Your soup that you feed him, your fingers stroking his hair, your voice sweetly singing him to sleep. Your lips on his forehead, whispering, “How are you feeling, Juju?” 

Granted, because he’s sick, he can’t fully appreciate it without the feeling that his body is turning against him. But it’s worth it, it’s easily worth it.

So, the day that he wakes up with a low temperature, feeling absolutely fine, he still manages to cough pitifully and throw out the word to Jaehee that he simply has to take another day off.

You have a knowing smile on your face, but when he slips his arms around your waist, with his face buried in your neck, you still hold him just as warmly, and Jumin is so, so, so in love with you. Nothing could possibly stand to be better than this. One hand absentmindedly strokes his hair while you type on your phone with the other hand, communicating with someone from work. 

Your phone starts to ring; he only shifts minimally to get closer as you answer it. “Hey, what’s up?”

He can hear the person who called—it’s one of your friends. “Hey! Check your messages, I won that ukulele I told you I would win last time.”

The sound of your laugh is so melodious, he’d do anything to get drunk on it. “Win another one for me, I’ll hang it up in my closet.”

“Yeah, right.” Your friend snorts. “I wish you were able to come. It’s been so long since we’ve been here.”

“I know, but Jumin really doesn’t feel well. I couldn’t just leave him at home alone.” As though your friend can see, you plant a kiss on his forehead. “We’ll go another time, definitely.”

“I’ll hold you to it. Alright, I have to go. Give the husband all my love, I hope he feels better.”

“Will do. Bye, have fun!”

With that, you hang up, resuming the scrolling through your phone and the stroking of his hair. Jumin is still, for good reason. 

You had meant to go out with your friends today. And due to his not-actually-sick state, you had canceled on them.

Hadn’t he told you to put him second to your own self? But he can’t pin this on you, not when he was the one faking. A terrible feeling begins to rise in his chest, causing him to move away from you and stare at you with a guilty expression.

“Is your neck finally tired of…” You trail off when you look at him, furrowing your brows. “What happened?”

“You were meant to go out today.”

A small frown forms on your face. “Um…we made plans, yeah. But you were sick—“

“I wasn’t,” he confesses, ironically sick to his stomach. “I just wanted to take another day off and spend some time with you.”

“I know that.”

“I—you know?”

The frown on your face is replaced by a tiny smile, as you tug gently to bring him back into your arms. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

“Yes I am.” He pouts, still upset but more calm now that you don’t seem disappointed. 

“Honey, the one time I kissed your finger after you got a papercut, you somehow got a papercut on every finger the following week.”

Jumin blushes, but you’re not wrong—he just craves your attention. You simply make everything better.

“More importantly,” and now you pull him into your chest, settling back into the same comfortable position with a kiss on his forehead, “I’m faking just as much as you, because I love it when you do things like this. Why would I complain? I get to spend time with you.”

This is what it feels like, Jumin is certain, to be loved. To be cared for and adored so deeply that it leaves an ache in one’s chest. “The next time,” he murmurs, as your hand finds purchase in his hair once more, “The next time you would like to go out to an amusement park with your friends, please let me know. I can buy it out for the day.” A thoughtful pause. “Or forever.”

Another soft kiss, he’s tempted to keep going, to make more and more outrageous promises just to earn each and every press of your lips to his skin. “My friends will appreciate that. I think the park is already owned by C&R, actually.” You chuckle. “Some fast passes though? I wouldn’t say no.”

Fast passes? He’ll ask you what in the world those are just as soon as he finishes kissing you (something a fake sick person can, thankfully, afford to do).

///

A soft knock on the door. 

“Mother?” He makes sure to keep his voice to a polite volume. “I’ve played with all my toys. May I please come out now?”

Silence. 

Jumin clears his throat, trying his best not to look behind him, just three steps down. It’s dark down there, and he knows it is not logical to be afraid of the dark, but even the logic does little to quell the growing fear inside him. 

“Mother? It…it has been a few hours now.” Fourteen hours, he counted on the tiny clock that ticks a little too loudly in the basement. “May I please be let out? I’m starting to get hungry.”

That’s a lie, but he doesn’t think she’ll know. The truth is he began to get hungry hours ago, and is now close to starving. As if on cue, his stomach growls. 

Jumin knocks again, the dread he feels growing with every second. “Please, Mother, I’ll be good. I’ll play with my toys. I’ll be normal. Please let me out.”

None of it makes any sense to him. In all the books he reads, none of the mothers lock their sons up in the basement. But then maybe none of the sons are as strange and abnormal as he is. They didn’t need to be locked up like he did. 

Still, even if he deserves this, the loneliness is starting to scare him.

“Please.” Childish tears start to prick at his eyes. “Mother? I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m sorry. I’ll do better, I promise.”

The only response he gets is the silence, beckoning him to come back to the darkness where he belongs. With a trembling lip, he turns to face it once more.

The doorknob jiggles.

He whips his head back, not daring to believe it. Is this punishment finally over? 

The first thing he’s going to do after he eats is call Jihyun, ask him if he’d like to go to the park nearby. Anything to go outside, in the light, with other people. 

Except, to his horror, when the door finally opens, it’s not his mother standing at the top, but his stepmother.

“No,” Jumin whispers, stumbling back. He misses one step and trips, hands on the cement floor as he stares, terrified, at the woman. “Please, no. Where’s Mother?”

The woman at the top laughs, a sound that seems to make others happy but only serves to suffocate him further. He’ll choose to stay in the darkness for a hundred more hours before going upstairs to see her. “What’s this? Another woman in your life, Jumin? What a lady killer!”

He shakes his head desperately, as though to tell her that there’s no one, there’s no need for her to get possessive.

It doesn’t work. 

“I’m your mother, Jumi.” He hates that nickname. “Shouldn’t you spend more time with me? You know I love our time together. I know you love it too.”

No, no, no, no, no. He’s on his feet in an instant, scrambling back away from her as fast as possible. His back hits the shelf, no longer a child but an adult, and yet still equally as pathetic.

“Your father doesn’t even pay attention to me anymore. You’re all I have, Jumi.” Her eyes turn cold. “But it looks like you’ve found someone else, haven’t you? You’ve replaced me so easily.”

Now her gaze is focused somewhere else. Jumin follows it, peers through the darkness, only to see…

You.

Relief floods his chest all at once. You are his solace, to hold close and worship. You are the only person to ever understand him, to love him without hurting him. You have accepted him no matter how much he’s shown you that he doesn’t deserve any of your care. As long as you are by his side, he can face anything.

“Jumin.” Even his name sounds so much nicer coming from you. Everything and everyone else seems to melt away.

He takes one step towards you.

You speak again, but it doesn’t sound the same this time.

“Jumin.” Now that he can see your face properly, you look…angry. “Don’t come any closer.”

Immediately, he stops, and that sharp fear grips his throat, squeezing.

“You’re fucked up, Jumin.”

The words spit out of you like a spear, hitting him right in the center. 

It can’t be you talking. You don’t say things like that. You always tell him you love him, that you understand him, that you adore him.

But maybe you’ve just…had enough.

Tears begin to spill from his eyes. You stand before him, his heart in your hands, and you look at him with such disgust that he hopes the darkness in here opens up and swallows him.

“I’m leaving,” you say firmly, “don’t follow me.”

“Please,” he gasps, shakily reaching a hand out. “Please don’t leave me here, my love.”

But you don’t listen. You step up the stairs, grip the door, and with one last look of vitriol, you slam it shut, damning him to the darkness forever.

Jumin wakes with a gasp that’s really a sob, head jerking up and slamming against yours.

“Ah!” You grip your forehead, wincing in pain from your position above him. “Ow ow ow, that hurt!”

Like he’s in auto mode, Jumin sits up, touching your cheek with a terrified expression. “I’m so sorry, my love, let me call the doctor. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” You wince again, rubbing your forehead. “It’ll probably bruise later, but I can deal with it.”

He hurt you. He hurt you.

But you don’t have any of the hate that your dream counterpart did in her eyes. Instead, yours are filled with concern, and you cup his cheeks with such gentleness that he closes his eyes, immediately melting in your hands.

“Were you having a nightmare?” You kiss his forehead. “You were tossing and turning and mumbling in your sleep.”

As much as he wants to bask in your worry for centuries, it doesn’t stop the guilt that threatens to spill. “I apologize for waking you, my love. And for hitting you. I—I was having a nightmare, yes, but I’m alright now.”

“Jumin.”

“If you’d like, I can make some tea for you to help you go back to sleep—“

“Jumin.” Your lips are on his forehead again. “You’re crying, sweetheart.”

So he is. It’s strange he didn’t realize, but there are indeed tears wetting his cheeks. He opens his eyes to meet your gaze, looking at him so sincerely and with such care that this time he actually feels the tears pour down.

“Oh,” you breathe, brows meeting in concern. Your thumbs wipe his tears away diligently, and your lips begin to kiss every spot you wipe. Jumin trembles under your touch, hating himself for being so pathetic in front of you and simultaneously considering crying forever so that you stay here forever too. “What is it, honey? Please tell me how I can help.”

He wants to. But all he can manage to do is grip the back of your shirt in his hands, bury his face in your shoulder, and sob.

Not even for a second do you let him go. He doesn’t know how long he stays in your arms, seconds, minutes or hours. He cries, and cries, and cries, until his eyes feel swollen. and all the while your hand strokes his hair, your lips kiss his cheek, and your voice comes out in soothing whispers.

It’s okay. 

I’m right here, I’m here for you. 

You have me forever. 

We’re going to get through this.

I promise I’ll stay with you as long as you want.

Even though he hasn’t told you what his nightmare was about, you still somehow know exactly what to say. 

Even when he finally tires himself out, Jumin can’t stand the thought of not being held by you. He’s never felt this safe, this protected, in his entire life. He continues to grip your shirt tightly, breathing in and out, chest heaving. Any second now, he thinks. Any second now, you’re going to pull away and see how awful he is when he clings to you again, like a child.

You do no such thing. Instead, you lean back against the headboard, gently guiding his head to rest on your chest. It’s not the most comfortable position, but he shifts so that he’s sitting curled into you and pulls you forward gently to place a pillow behind your back. This way, he can hear your heartbeat.

And it’s that steady rhythm that makes his eyes start to droop.

But if he falls asleep again, he risks having another nightmare.

“Sleep,” you murmur, kissing his temple. Jumin’s eyes close on instinct. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The promise knocks him right out.

///

When he wakes, you’ve kept your promise, and you’re in the same unfortunate position, head lulled to the side as you snooze. 

An indescribable feeling settles upon him. It’s not just one feeling, in fact, but multiple. Guilt, because he forced you to sleep like this throughout the night. Gratitude, because he’s pretty sure he’s in the arms of an angel sent from above. And most importantly, he feels white hot love, because he has clearly married the only person in this world worth a damn.

And as much as he wants to stay like this, he knows that will surely not bode well for the chiropractor appointment he plans to schedule for you. So Jumin slips out of your embrace gently, taking good care to lay your head down on the pillow. With you picturesque in front of him, he places a kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Thank you.”

“Ju,” you mumble in your sleep. Your hand seems to reach for something, stopping when he intertwines his fingers with yours.

An angel, indeed.

Jumin gets up fully, taking the time to brush his teeth and freshen up before going into the kitchen to whip something up for breakfast. He wasn’t expected at the office until after lunch, so he had time to really make something nice. Chocolate chip pancakes, instead of his usual strawberry.

As he makes the batter, he thinks. Last night was…an anomaly. There should be no reason for him to dream of people that no longer matter anymore. His present is the most important, and his present is, thanks to you, leagues and leagues ahead of his past anyway. He wants to forget it all, forget his mother and stepmother and even Sarah Choi, who, while she hadn’t made an appearance last night, had been in his nightmares more than once, in a bleak alternate reality where he actually married her.

But he knows who he really married. It’s the person whose arms are sneaking around his waist right now. You.

“Morning.” Your voice is exceedingly pleasant, especially when it’s cooed in his ear. “You’re going in late, right?”

“Yes.” He places a kiss on the back of your hand, pressing his lips to each knuckle. “And you, my princess?”

“All from home today, my prince.”

Inwardly, he feels a quick twinge of irritation. “I wish I could spend the whole day with you. I should call out.”

“I’m never going to dissuade you of that.” You kiss him right on the nape of his neck; Jumin shudders. “But it’s up to you.”

“I’ll end up burning these pancakes if you keep distracting me.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” Your laugh is so pretty, he thinks, and he didn’t think he could describe laughter as pretty before you. “Um, before I get too off topic…don’t you think we should talk, Jumin?”

He knew you weren’t going to simply forget the fact that he had cried himself back to sleep last night. Luckily, before you’d woken, he’d already prepared for such a scenario.

“I apologize for disrupting your sleep. I had a disturbing dream, but it will not happen again.”

For a second, he thinks it’s enough to stop you from asking any further questions, up until he feels your arms slide out from under him. The next thing he knows, you’re turning off the stove before he can start on the next batch of pancakes. 

Then, you’re gently turning him so he’s facing you, looking at you right in the eye. Jumin has seen that look before. It’s way too determined for even his stubborn nature, and it always comes out when you’re about to do whatever you want (a rare delight, given your selfless nature, but one he enjoys every time).

Your hands loop around his neck, and you kiss his cheek. Jumin closes his eyes as you speak softly. “Won’t you tell me what’s bothering you, love?”

It’s amazing that you think anything could bother him when you’re this close, calling him that. 

“Just a nightmare,” he says softly, but you clearly don’t buy it.

“I have nightmares too, it’s very rare that one of them affects me that much after I wake up.”

“A bad nightmare.”

The other version of you flashes in his head again. You’re fucked up, Jumin. But she’s not you, and even though he thinks for a terrible second that you’re going to shove him away, you pull him in for a hug instead, warm and welcoming and cozy. The scent of your nameless-brand shampoo fills his senses—it makes him desperately want to go back to bed.

“Please,” you breathe on his neck. “That’s what you were saying last night. Please, Mother. Please, no. Please, don’t leave me.” 

His hands grip the back of your shirt.

“Please talk to me, Jumin,” you plead. “Please.”

Somehow, he has to keep from crying this time. How pathetic can one man be? But he also has to acquiesce to your request, because you’re you, and he cannot deny you no matter how hard he tries. If you want him bare, you shall have him bare. If you want him destroyed, he will destroy himself in an instant. 

“Alright,” he concedes, trembling.

Not wanting the kitchen, where you and him cook together and laugh together (and a couple other things too), to become associated with these tainted memories, he guides you to the couch, hands holding yours. You promptly get into your favorite position, on his lap with your knees on each side. With a sigh, he rests his head on your shoulder, the fabric of your shirt seemingly smoothing out the creases in his forehead.

Your lips on his skin and your whispered words of encouragement give him a courage he wasn’t aware he possessed. Jumin talks.

“You have not met my mother yet. There is…good reason for that. A week before our wedding, she sent me the profile of a woman she wanted me to marry. I refused, of course. But that is the first time she has reached out to me in years.” He clears his throat. “She and I did not have a pleasant relationship. I think some part of me was very disappointing to her, because instead of giving her the true challenge of parenthood I molded to exactly what she wanted me to be. She recognized that I was…abnormal.”

In the span of a few seconds, your eyes have hardened more than he’s ever seen them harden before. This isn’t determined. This isn’t even pissed. This is raw anger.

“Abnormal?” There’s a bite to your words. “Is that her way of saying she was blessed with an intelligent, kind child?”

“You are kind,” Jumin whispers, cupping your chin to press a short kiss to your lips. “As a child, I was perhaps more robotic than I am now. I took to the world of business rather quickly.”

“You were brilliant, Jumin. Were and still are.”

If he kisses you after your every reassurance, the two of you will never leave this couch (not that he necessarily minds that idea). The more disturbing risk is that he will break down in front of you, if he starts elaborating, not to mention when he begins to talk about his stepmother as well.

But that’s a risk that Jumin can now accept. He understands now, that he hasn’t known love before you, and that there will be a great many times he will feel afraid, but he also knows that there is no one in the world he trusts more. 

Taking a deep breath, he continues.

///

Jumin is addicted—addicted—to making you cum.

The face you make when you orgasm—eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream, head thrown back—is the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his life. He considers spending eternity with his head between your legs, recklessly licking you to completion again and again.

The sounds you make—God. They have him rolling his hips against the sheets, so close to finishing just from your taste. It’s an obsession now, one that’s been growing ever since you two were married. A stressful day or a bad meeting or even projects being set back for whatever reason, Jumin can get all that frustration out as long as you allow him to spread your legs and devour you. As long as you squeal on his tongue, make a mess of his face, cum on his lips once or twice or more. He only stops when you beg him to. 

He could taste you forever.

But he reconsiders this commitment after he experiences the feeling of you coming on his cock once more.

A choked cry escapes him when he feels your walls clench around him. For a second, he can’t move, too lost in the way your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his skin. It’s the most pleasurable pain he’s ever had the fortune of experiencing.

“Ju-min,” you whine, legs clasping around his waist as he continues to thrust lazily, seeking his own release, “more, please.”

It really is always nice to know that he’s not the only one affected, enthralled and addicted to this madness.

///

Returning home to silence is still better than returning home to the sound of soft crying.

Jumin is on high alert in an instant, not bothering to take his suit or even his shoes off. You’re curled up on the couch, wiping your cheeks aggressively when you catch sight of him.

“J-Jumin, I didn’t hear you come in. Um…” You swallow, dried tears still obvious on your face. “I haven’t made anything, let me call the chef.”

He crosses the rug over to you almost blindly. There’s nothing else in his head, only you—your tears—you’re crying—you’re crying and he wasn’t here. His hands cup your face, wiping another fresh tear that rolls down your cheek as you look up at him, shaking.

“Who did it?” There’s a white-hot anger pulsing inside of him. He never sees you cry. “Tell me who I need to kill.”

A soft gasp escapes you, and you shake your head frantically as he sinks to his knees, taking your hands in his own and pressing reverent kisses to your knuckles. “N-no one did anything—I promise I’m fine, h-honey, please get up—“

Your laptop is set to the side, but the only thing on it is an email draft, giving him no clues at all. The last thing he desires is for you to have to recount that which distresses you, but he wants, needs, to ensure that you never get upset again.

“My love,” he swears, pressing his palms to yours, “please, tell me what happened. Was it something I did? One of the employees in the building?”

You whisper frantically, “No,” but even as you do another fresh wave of tears drip down your face.

Jumin wants to scream, wants to hurt someone, whoever is responsible, but he’s helpless, and so he lets intuition guide him, rising up until he’s next to you on the couch, and he’s pulling you in.

With a firm grip on his suit, you bury your face in his chest, shoulders shaking. In this moment, he recalls the predicament from that night, when the roles were reversed. How you’d simply let him cry, and held him all the while. Is he capable of…can he possibly bring you the same peace you bring him? Could you allow him to comfort you in the same way?

No matter what, he’s going to try. Anything for you.

Placing a kiss to your hair, he tightens his arms around you and murmurs sweet nothings, making sure you hear all of them. Everything from you’re the strongest person i know to i’m here for you, my love, i’ll be with you till the end of time.

“It’s just so much,” you finally hiccup, sniffing, “I’m busy all the time, they dump every project on me, I never get a chance to just take some time for myself and breathe! I’m always on some call, writing some email, visiting some area, I just want it all to stop. And you’re busier than me, and you do it so effortlessly, I can’t imagine how pathetic I must look compared to you.”

“You’re worth a hundred of me.” His voice is fierce, and he meets your eyes with his entire honest conviction. “Nothing about you is pathetic. You…you’re hardworking, you’re talented, you’re brave, and you’re the kindest person I know. I do not deserve you. I’ve never deserved you.”

“Please don’t say that,” you whimper, face still wet. He squeezes you tighter.

“I apologize. This isn’t about me. You need a break, sweetheart. Please, just request a week or at least a day off.”

“Jumin, I can’t—”

“I’ll request off too. Whenever you get a break, I’ll schedule one at the same time, and then I’ll take you wherever you desire, or we can simply spend it in the penthouse, and lay in bed all day. Or I could buy your company,” he half threatens, half jokes.

You let out a weak laugh, sinking into him, but he feels the tension in your shoulders release just slightly. Placing a kiss at the top of your head, he quickly texts for the chef to come by within the next hour, then tosses his phone aside to hold you better, which is when he catches sight of your own phone. On the screen is an image of the chatroom—a screenshot, he realizes, since his own messages are in it and he hasn’t been on the messenger today.

Your gaze follows his, and a slight smile finally forms on your face. “Messages from when we first met. Ah, the day I came to your apartment, I think.”

Oh, no. To put it lightly, those days were not a good time for him (although he’d never say such a thing, because he finds it cruel to say that some of the hardest days of his life included the one where he met the most wonderful woman in the world). Heaven knows what foolish things he’d said, he’s tried to block out most of the times that didn’t include the sight of you in front of him.

“They calm me down,” you admit softly, “the screenshots I have. I’m glad I took them, I have almost a hundred pictures that remind me of all the butterflies I would get when I talked to you. Knowing you’re my husband is the biggest calm of the storm.” Your cheeks are still stained with tears, but in your eyes is a newfound admiration as you and him look at each other, as though you have all the time in the world.

Jumin’s heart seizes.

“I’ll request a week off.” You reach up, a thumb on his cheek. “Thank you, Jumin.”

Surely, he thinks, being needed by you is the best experience of all.

///

“Thank you.” Your voice breaks the silence, muffled on his skin. “For letting me love you, and for loving me.”

Your husband kisses you, impatient as always, and you adore it.

“You’re welcome,” he breathes.

[animeomegas]

So, you and your omega are…. uh… going at it… when your neighbour angrily bangs on the wall, yelling at you to keep it down. Oops. How does your omega react? 

“SORRY THAT YOU’RE LIFE IS BORING! TRY LOOSENING UP, IT WON’T KILL YOU!”: Kiba

*Proceeds to be louder on purpose, out of spite*: Kankuro, Deidara, Denki, Satan, Belphie, Seven, 

Barely acknowledges it. He’s busy, after all: Sai, Kisame, Todoroki, L, Solomon, Diavolo, 

He gives you the “deer in headlights” look for a moment, before collapsing into giggles. Oops. : Naruto, Kirishima, Mic, Mirio, Baxter

He kind of likes that people can hear him. He’ll probably quieten down to be polite, but it makes him hornier: Haku, Light (he can’t ruin his image too much after all)

He stops because it’s kind of awkward and he feels bad, but he’s not embarrassed: Sero, Beel, Barbatos (can’t ruin his image), Zen, V

His face is hot and he’s embarrassed, and it’s undeniably a little awkward, but he’ll get over it. He either stops for the night, or moves farther away from the shared wall. He might apologise the next day to smooth things over: Lee, Gaara, Yamato, (non-massacre) Itachi, Minato, Midoriya (it does make him a little horny though), Aizawa, Matsuda, Mammon, Yoosung, Derek

Stop immediately. Has a wave of aggression, which is really to hide the embarrassment. Pretends he doesn’t care, but he does and wants to stop for the evening: Sasuke, Neji, Bakugou, Lucifer, 

Humiliated, utterly and completely, his face heats up like you wouldn’t believe. He wants to stop, and is not going to be in the mood for a week: Shino, Iida, Toshinori, Tamaki, Leviathan, Cove

Stops immediately. He’s uncomfortable with the idea that people can hear him, but he’s not crazy embarrassed or anything (as long as it wasn’t anything particularly humiliating): (canon) Itachi, Kakashi, Simeon, Jumin, Saeran, 

[married-to-google-translater]

Can I request a yandere headcannon with 707,Jumin and V with a darling who love to cosplaying as a magical girl or neko

Jihyun Kim

You and Jiyhun would have been together for a while.

In the beginning, you wouldn't talk much about your hobby.

Maybe you're afraid that he wouldn't be interested…

But one day he came home when you were preparing your cosplay.

So that's where the whole situation started.

Jiyhun would surely have heard of this hobby.

He would work as a photographer.

So maybe someone would have asked her to take cosplay pictures earlier.

However, he would not have much knowledge on the subject.

He would certainly listen to the subject if you wanted to talk about it.

And if you asked, he would definitely take pictures of you.

Lots of pictures.

Jiyhun would really love you.

And he thinks you're most beautiful when you do something that makes you happy.

And this would definitely be the thing.

You went to different cons together a lot.

Saeyoung Choi/707/Luciel

Saeyoung was totally involved in this.

As we know, he would already be into cross dressing.

So he would know what you are talking about when you talk about your hobby.

And Saeyoung would probably know about your hobby before you even tell.

He ran a background check…

And Saeyoung isn't doing a bad job.

He would be enthusiastic about your hobby.

Definitely something you two could do together.

Couple cosplays are a thing.

And surely you would when he had no work to do.

Although Saeyoung would rather google what characters you could cosplay while working.

He would also give Vanderwood a headache.

Saeyoung would definitely love to make the outfits herself with you.

Nice thing to do together.

Jumin Han

You and Jumin had just moved in together.

You were unpacking your moving boxes.

And Jumin would be interested in why you would have one box full of different cat ears.

Jumin doesn't really know what cosplay is.

He's never even heard of it.

And he might not understand if you try to explain to him.

It would really be out of his world.

But he would try to understand.

And would listen to your explanation…

If it was something that would make you happy.

Jumin would really love to see you happy ;)

He would definitely like to support your hobby.

Things that are important to you are also important to him.

Jumin would probably support this hobby financially.

Or he could try to help you make outfits.

But a little warning.

Because Jumin really isn't terribly good at it.

However, it would be fun.

And if you dressed up as a Neko…

Ummmmmm

Well, let's just say that it wouldn't really bother Jumin ;)

[luc606]

She’d do anything to keep him smiling. This includes burying her reservations, denying her hopes, freeing Saeyoung of any responsibility to care for her feelings.

- MC/707 friends with benefits AU where Saeyoung stayed at the agency and didn't end up with MC at the end of his route (no names or placeholders, she/her for MC)

read on ao3

(team i just wanted to write fwb angst like please don't take the AU logistics too seriously i am just a little guy with glasses on)

“This didn’t happen.” Saeyoung’s voice is breathy, his chest heaving as he comes back to Earth. He drapes a lead-heavy arm over her waist and negotiates her closer, pressing her back into his stomach, tangling their legs together. His next words fall in the shallow of her neck, heady and warm. “None of it happened.”

Part of her is still an hour behind the present moment, still thrilling at the way his hands melted into her waist as he bent down to kiss her for the first time. Things had moved quickly from that point. Once he knew that she wanted him, his hands had rushed from her waist to the hem of her dress and beneath. He’d touched her in the doorway, looking down at her reactions with unrepentant awe. The rest plays back in a blur—frantic, desperate.

It had happened almost accidentally. He’d texted her, annoyed and frustrated by work, needing a distraction. She’d invited him over with a text that used plausibly deniable suggestive language. The two of them had been on the precipice of something for long enough that the suggestion alone was enough. Before anything happened, though, they’d agreed that this would be strictly no strings attached.

She shifts against him, moving her hand to press against her own hip. She wonders if the tender spot there will bruise. This didn’t happen.

Saeyoung had spent the better part of the evening touching her, denying reciprocation at every turn. “All I want is you,” he’d said. “Let me have this.”

None of it happened.

He squeezes her against his chest, prompting a response. When she doesn’t answer, worry floods his voice. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, sorry.” She pushes his arm away just long enough to turn around and face him. She meets his eyes, lets herself sink into his warm honey gaze once more before she agrees, offering a soft smile. “None of it happened.”

Saeyoung breathes a sigh of relief, burying his face in her neck. She wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him impossibly closer, wordlessly begging him to stay.

Ever since uncovering Mint Eye, Saeyoung has been drowning in work. Even with help from everyone in the RFA—even with Jumin’s money and connections, a whole task force dedicated to the cause—the work is never-ending. Every moment of his limited free time is devoted to his brother. He’s been reintroducing himself to Saeran with the supervision of a full hospital staff and even that is risky. It isn’t hard to guess at the results by the way Saeyoung’s voice shakes every time his twin comes up in conversation.

Regardless of whether he wants one or not, Saeyoung doesn’t have the time to pursue a relationship. He doesn’t have the peace of mind, either. He’s always going, always on high alert. Figures from his past loom in the distance. Saeyoung has seemed to resign to the fact that he’ll never quite be free to live the life he wants.

Therefore, secrecy is understandable. Expected, even. The RFA members would ask questions, would push them toward pursuing something more rounded and wholesome. The last thing that Saeyoung needs is more expectations, more ties, more obligations.

She pushes a hand through his hair, gently teasing sticky curls away from his forehead with the pads of her fingers. Her nails scratching the back of his neck elicit a satisfied hum. She wonders whether she could get him to fall asleep with her. It would be nice to confirm with her own eyes that, for once, he’s getting a good night’s sleep.

“Stay with me,” she whispers. “Sleep here.”

For a moment, he considers it. He pulls back, locking eyes with her again. She watches his eyes trace the shape of her beneath the sheets, watches him linger on her lips, maybe thinking about kissing her again. She can see the exact moment that he pulls back into himself. His eyes darken, his brow furrows. He shakes his head and pushes himself away.

“I have to meet with Saeran’s doctors in the morning.” He stands at the end of the bed, quickly pulling on clothes. Just a moment later, he looks just like he did when he stepped in the door. None of it happened.

“Right.” She’s never felt more naked than she does in this moment. When he turns away to pick his jacket off the floor, she scrambles out of bed and into the bathroom to put on her bath robe.

He’ll probably go home and straight back to agency work. This is how he spends most of his nights, sacrificing as many of his sleeping hours as possible to the agency so that he can leave the day to Saeran and the RFA. She would admire his work ethic if she weren’t so fucking worried about him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, so quiet that she almost doesn’t hear it.

There is nothing to say, so she says nothing. This is exactly what she expected, exactly what she agreed to. When he called earlier that night, frustrated and angry and exhausted, she’d harbored no secret hopes in inviting him over. Still, she can’t help the lump that forms in the back of her throat.

Saeyoung frowns. Worry, again, evident in his furrowed brow. It’s impossible for her to keep from going to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his chest to hear his beating heart.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

He squeezes her back. When she looks up, he offers a soft smile. He repeats, “I’m sorry.”

She forces herself to smile back, swallowing her heart. “Don’t worry about me. Like you said, none of this happened.”

The next week is uneventful. Saeyoung is just as busy as always and no one in the RFA hears from him. He can be a ghost when he wants to be, completely missing in action, hidden away at the desk in his dark office.

She worries, thinks about calling, fantasizes about cooking a warm meal for him and bringing it over. None of these fantasies stick long enough for her to follow through with them. After all, she has her own responsibilities to attend to.

It’s not until the very end of the weekend, a rainy Sunday night, that she hears from him again. He appears on her doorstep in the dark, still dressed in a suit and tie befitting the C&R office, rain soaking through his trim jacket.

“Can I come in?” he asks, already halfway through the door. 

This time, she’s the first to touch him. All the regret and worry of the past week floods her in an instant, so she distracts the feeling by wrapping her hands around his tie and pulling him down to her height.

He responds quickly, grasping at her waist and kissing her back. He kisses her like he wants to eat her alive. Desperate, frantic.

“Is everything okay?” she asks in-between kisses.

“Please,” he groans, “just you.” He grabs two handfuls of her thighs, pressing her against him like his ultimate goal is complete fusion of the atoms that make them up. “It’s been such a long week… I just want you.”

She breaks the kiss and falls to her knees in front of him, gratified by how he squirms and blushes at her undoing his belt. “Is this okay?” She takes him in her hand, pumps slowly.

He gives a breathless laugh, truly caught off guard. “Please don’t ask silly questions.”

The sound he makes when she takes him into her mouth sends a thrill up her spine. She quickens her pace, coaxing more sounds from him. He threads his hands through her hair, rewarding her efforts with gentle tugging at her scalp. When it’s too much, he pulls her away.

“Please,” he begs, “if you keep going, I’m not going to be able to do what I came here to.”

She releases him, looking up with a smile, and he pulls her to her feet and into his arms. He carries her to the bed in a rush, then tosses her onto it.

This time, he is not so thorough in exploring her. He helps her out of her pajamas, then hooks his hands under her knees and pulls her to the edge of the bed.

“You’re so beautiful.” He palms her breasts with calloused hands as he leans down to kiss her again. “Seriously, men kill for this.” He chuckles at his own hyperbole. One hand ventures further down, splaying against her stomach before finding its place between her thighs. “I’d be one of the men in question if it came to that.”

Her laugh is smothered by a sigh as Saeyoung pushes inside her. When she looks up at him, she can see a once-familiar humor on his face. He looks like he’s trying to produce another joke and coming up short. She takes in his smile and the scrunch of his nose and the warmth of his eyes as if she is seeing him for the first or last time.

Saeyoung pouts. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He lets out a breath, pushing into her again. He leans forward, leveraging himself so that he can go faster without breaking eye contact. “Like…” He grunts. “Like I’ve got something on my face?”

“I think you’re beautiful,” she admits, her hands finding his face and holding him steady while he fucks her, “especially when you’re like this.”

When they’re like this, his shoulders are light, his eyes sparkle. She remembers what things were like when they first met.

Somehow, things were simpler when there was a nameless hacker and a secret agency and a mysterious cult. Now, the complications are in the specifics. Saeyoung has to care for his brother, he has more work for the agency, he’s been betrayed by his friends and threatened by his family. The RFA members occasionally wring their hands and worry for him but, for the most part, they go about their lives while Saeyoung drowns. Here, now, everything fades away. Saeyoung is able to laugh like he used to.

“What do you mean ‘especially?’” He chuckles. “You think I’m prettier naked?”

“No.” She reaches out for him, pressing a hand against his stomach and tracing the muscles there. “I mean, when you’re not worried about anything.”

“You think this is me not worrying?” He thrusts again, harder.

“Isn’t it?” She frowns. Her eyes find his and it causes his hips to stutter.

Saeyoung pulls back and flips her onto her stomach with one swift hand. He crawls into bed on top of her and pushes into her again. Closer, harder. The thread of their attempt at conversation is momentarily lost, then forgotten entirely.

When they’re finished, Saeyoung bends at the elbows, pressing his full weight into her for just a moment. His lips graze her shoulder—a half-hearted attempt at a kiss—as he rolls over to lay on his back. 

“Don’t you know that being with you terrifies me?” he asks, voice sounding far away. “Just because I’m having fun doesn’t mean I’m not worried.”

She stays on her stomach. Something in her knows that it’s easier for him to admit this when he doesn’t have to look her in the eyes. That’s what all of this is, isn’t it? Closeness without any of the vulnerability. She pushes up onto her knees. Below her, Saeyoung’s face is stuck in a soft smile, even though he’s still catching his breath. His curls are mussed, sticking up in every direction, and for the first time she notices the galaxy of freckles on his chest.

Gently, as if Saeyoung is the most fragile thing in the world, she ghosts one finger over his torso, tracing a line from one freckle to another on the path to a full constellation.

“Are you terrified even if it, um—“ She swallows, trying to find the words. Her finger keeps on its path and Saeyoung’s breath hitches when she stops at a mole at the base of his neck. “—if it’s just this?” If it’s like it never happened. If no one finds out. If they aren’t attached.

He catches her hand in his and clutches it against his chest. “Weren’t you listening?” Again, there’s a flicker of his old humor in his eyes. “Just because I’m having fun doesn’t mean I’m not worried.”

Her first thought is one that she stifles. What is the point of all the secrecy and avoidance if it’s only going to worry him anyway? She frees her hand to trace the corner of his smile. She’d do anything to keep him smiling. This includes burying her reservations, denying her hopes, freeing Saeyoung of any responsibility to care for her feelings.

“There’s no reason to worry. None of this matters, right?” She reaches down to kiss him, her hair falling to form a curtain around their faces. For just a moment, the whole world consists of only the two of them.

Saeyoung pulls back from the kiss, his eyes darkening. He seems to remember himself, pushing up into a seated position and smoothing his hair back into place.

“You’re right.” When he speaks, his voice sounds uncharacteristically bitter.

He dresses quickly and a distinct feeling of déjà vu overtakes the girl watching. Just like the first time, he sheds all traces of her from himself with remarkable ease. In moments, he is dressed again. Soon after, he is out the door.

[juminies]

Thinking about early relationship Jumin... He gets used to coming home to you after his routine goes back go normal. There's soft "Will you be staying here tonight?" conversations in the evenings where he doesn't quite want to assume but also doesn't want to be alone. You're not even sure when it happened but there's permanently perfume beside his cologne and hair ties in the bathroom cabinet and two toothbrushes in his en-suite. As you bond with Elizabeth the 3rd his adoration only grows. He takes a load of unsteady photos the first time she sleeps on your lap or cuddles up to you; texts you pictures of her with a "We miss you" message when you aren't there for a couple of days. You finally manage to convince him you don't need Driver Kim to take you home every time but he still insists on walking you to the bus or train station (if not just to spend a little bit of extra time with you). Leaving is always followed up by too-formal messages to check you got home safe. There's nights where both of you can't sleep alone and he says enough and comes over at midnight so you can squeeze into bed together and actually get some rest even if it means pushing back a morning schedule or two. His mood totally shifts for the better the first time you pay a surprise visit to his office and it hits you all at once how being around each other is so good for the both of you. You can hear the fondness in his voice at business events where he gets to introduce you as his fiancée and feel his pride when you get comfortable and blend in. You belong together, he thinks, plain and simple. Little parts of your lifestyles become intertwined and it feels so natural. He teaches you his pancake recipe and watches diligently if you cook for him in turn. Subconsciously you start picking up on each other's little habits. As you learn what the other likes touches are soft and hesitant and then one day they're passionate and purposeful and you don't even know when things clicked. Kisses are always "Just one more?" with him because he can never get enough of you. The first time someone assumes you're married before you actually are and you don't correct them he brings it up later – his wife? He can't wait to get used to that. And it all feels a bit surreal for a while, but he's always always there to ground you

[erimeows]

Mystic Messenger: Masterlist

Hi there! I'm Eri, and I write for all sorts of stuff. While I do have everything published on here, I personally choose to have my masterlists linked to my Ao3.

Some of these are NSFW, so be sure to check the tags!

If you'd like to learn more about me, send in a request, or look at my works for other fandoms, check out my pinned post! P.S. some of these are a little old... Like, from when I was a middle-schooler old. Please be kind ^^

Headcanons:

Mystic Messenger Drabbles/Headcanons/Scenarios- this is my gigantic compilation of headcanons and little drabbles! Includes character x character, character x reader, gen, etc.!

Multichapters/Series:

Cared For (Jumin Han x 707)

Never Changing (Jumin Han x V): Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Eclipse (Jumin Han x Zen)

Safekeeping (Vanderwood x Zen)

Character x Character Oneshots:

A New Hobby (Zen x 707)

Next To You (Zen x 707)

Secrets (Zen x Saeran Choi)

Mysterious Clues (Yoosung Kim x Saeran Choi)

The Letter (Yoosung Kim x 707)

Just A Little Longer (Yoosung Kim x 707)

Uptight (Vanderwood x Saeran Choi)

Again And Again (Vanderwood x 707)

Hurting You (Jumin Han x V)

Happy Tears (Jumin Han x V)

Tangerine Skies (Jumin Han x V)

Falling (Jumin Han x 707)

My Funny Valentine (Jumin Han x 707)

Philocalist (Jumin Han x 707)

Kissaphobic (Jumin Han x 707)

Priorities (Jumin Han x 707)

Dye (Jumin Han x 707)

The Things You Don't Talk About (Jumin Han x 707)

Bad Idea! (Jumin Han x Zen)

Character x Reader Oneshots:

Sleeping Beauty (Jumin Han x Reader)

Drunken Confessions (Saeran Choi x Reader)

I Could Use A Little Danger (Zen x Reader)

Shy (Zen x Reader)

Tell Me What You Want (V x Reader)

Love And Coffee (Jaehee x Reader)

Don't Tell (Jaehee x Reader)

Midnight Chips And Madeline (707 x Reader)

Webcam (707 x Reader)

Partnership (707 x Reader)

In The Same Bed (707 x Reader)

Movie Night (707 x Reader)

Cherry (707 x Reader x Saeran) (Angsty love triangle with unreciprocated love, NOT incest)

[cupcakefactory]

Things mc would do for their depressed partner...aka all the rfa! or just saeyoung/saeran :D

Thank you so much for this!! i had a lot of fun writing it for you, i hope you enjoy. Our M/FLs need some love sometimes they can't always be strong!

Wordcount: 1637

Spoilers for Mystic Messenger below.

ZEN: 

It would be very rare for ZEN to get depressed, he was a positive person by nature and even when things got hard a simple run was normally enough to shake those feelings. The only time you could recall seeing ZEN depressed was when he hurt his leg and couldn’t rehearse; and the following actions from Echo girl after. Even then, he cheered up quickly, with help from yourself and Jumin Han.

That being that, it would be rare ZEN was depressed enough to need any assistance from you, but after being rejected from 3 jobs he had auditioned for he was starting to feel down in the dumps.

Cheering ZEN up is simple in some ways and complicated in others. First you need to actually discover he's feeling bad - he is an actor by trade. He doesn’t want to worry his partner with something that he feels is superficial but once you know how he's feeling you can start working on cheering him up. First thing first, you went to the convenience store to pick up his favourite drink and a snack - he normally gravitated towards salads but you brought him something sugary instead. Everyone craves sugar when depressed and Hyun Ryu wasn't the exception. Once you’d shared the treats you went for a run with him - if running isn’t your thing don’t worry, he would go slow for you to help you keep up. Maybe even just walking around your local park if that's all you can manage - he wouldn’t mind or complain. He could see how hard you're trying to cheer him up and that in itself works magic. 

By the time you both get home and collapse on the sofa all his worries are forgotten; another job would come before long. Thanks to your efforts today he learnt that he was the luckiest man alive because he got to have you by his side.

Yoosung Kim: 

Since dating Yoosung you had noticed he had a tendency to worry over things and try to be a hero always. He wouldn’t let you know if he was struggling - just like when he was attacked in mint eye and injured his eye! You had no idea it had happened until the party and you were almost impressed at how easily he hid it. 

Once you spent enough time together you learnt easily how to know when Yoosung was struggling, he had a habit of isolating himself a little and that was the case recently. He was so close to finishing college; and Jumin had told him if he passed with his expected grades he would personally help him open a vet clinic in Rika and Sally's honour. He was stressed and working himself to the bone to prove that he could do it. 

You felt his anxiety from afar when you visited his dorm; you got concerned with Luciel mentioned in passing that he hadn’t been on LOLOL recently - you knew why he was working so hard but it was important to take breaks too! When you arrived, you pulled him away from his work despite his protests and made him share the take out you had brought with you. A simple meal would do him some good, and after that you were able to convince him to play some games with you. 

By the time you both fell asleep next to each other on the sofa, he felt lighter and happier. The exams didn’t feel as looming with you by his side; and if he didn’t get the grades? You would be by his side and that's enough.

Jaehee Kang: 

Jaehee was a strong woman; no one would argue that - ever since she found her step and was able to leave C&R and ask you to be her partner she hadn’t had a reason to feel blue. You were her main help, you made her days better and working by your side was more than a dream come true. 

However, running a new business is hard work. Jaehee was a very talented lady, emails and numbers came easily to her thanks to her years of experience as Jumins assistant. The Cafe normally ran like clockwork; nothing went wrong except for the few times a delivery was late.. Until, multiple employees called in sick and Jaehee came home stressed and tired. She had worked herself to the bone and the only thanks she got was confrontation from the customers. 

You made her a drink when she got in, settling easily next to her on the couch where you let her head fall onto your shoulder. She stayed like that for a while before you stood - walking to the DVD collection in the corner and picking up one of her favourites. Zen's musicals always helped Jaehee after a hard day when she worked for Jumin, she could recount every word from her favourite ones now. Why wouldn’t it be any different working by herself?

After all - she had the best partner she could ask for. Who knew how to help her stay calm and knew what her favourite musical was after all.

Jumin Han: 

Jumin was taught from his childhood that his emotions didn’t matter. People worked tirelessly to try and impress him and get his praise, no one did anything for him simply because they wanted too until you came along. You came to his aid just because you wanted to make things easier for him and to help him smile again. 

That's what he loved about you; how you gave him a reason to feel again. You made his emotions feel more real than ever before. He felt he could be honest with you about all the struggles in his life. Work stress was something he simply shook off but after meeting you? He didn’t bother too anymore - you were his dear partner. He returned home that day tired, his eye bags heavy as he didnt even both greet Elizabeth before collapsing onto the sofa. He didn’t want to worry you but he was tired; more so than he realised. Once you had gave him some time to collect his thoughts you sat by his side, giving him a glass of wine and taking one for yourself if that's what you wished. Jumin would tell you his struggles in time - but right now he appreciated the quiet by your side. 

Your quiet breathing as he lay his head on your chest was more than enough noise to calm his racing mind, make him feel better and make everything make sense. He had never felt so lucky before.

Saeyoung Choi:

Saeyoung hid his depression behind laughter and jokes - you had worked that out quickly in the chatroom; and that had been proven when he came to your aid in the apartment. His jokey demeanour was gone; the sadness in his eyes obvious as he worked and even more so when his brother appeared.

Once everything setted and he had his family back, Saeyoung became more and more like Luciel. He joked all the time, teased everyone around him and this time it wasn’t to cover the hurt in his heart - it was to be himself for the first time in his life. Saeyoung had never been happier - but the rare times he did struggle with depression it wasn’t hard not to spot. He went quiet, isolated in his room until someone; normally you; came to check on him. He didn’t know how to tell you how he felt, he didn’t need to. You’d always be there to give him a drink and a shoulder to cry on. He didn’t want to talk about how he felt, the memories of his past destroying his future. He would simply cry on your shoulder and you'd stay there for him; for ever.

He knew how lucky he was, to get his family back for one but also to get to have you by his side. Someone who understood, who didn’t push too hard when things got hard and someone that would come to his side without a moment's warning. He didn’t need to ask you for help because you would offer it without even thinking - That was one of the things he loved most about you after all. 

Saeran Choi:

Saeran had all but escaped hell by the time he had a moment to process his own feelings. He didn’t really know what it felt like to be depressed because he had never been truly happy not until you came into his life and taught him it was okay to be him, to be human and to feel. 

He struggled with feeling, too caught up in the new found joy life had gifted him by having you at one side and his brother at the other. He had no reason to be depressed - but sometimes at night when everything got quiet and everyone was asleep he couldn’t stop his mind racing through everything in his life. Everything that had happened and everything that could happen. You heard him, every time he woke in a cold sweat and scared; he claimed your love cured him but you knew it couldn’t, this was no fairytale. You wanted to reach out and touch him, gently caress his hair to make him feel better but you wouldn’t not unless he asked for that as you knew your touch could be triggering. Instead, you hummed a gentle melody off you tongue which was able to ground him and make him feel better without the strain physical touch would cause. 

He knew how lucky he was to have picked you as his game tester, he knew that now more than ever - the gentle melody on your lips calming him and luring him back into sleep and away from the horrors his mind created.

If you enjoyed this please check out my masterlist! My requests are always open :D

[killjoy-prince]

They're so silly :3c

[brighteststar707]

Parallels

You carry parts of past lives with you. You can't help it, you're made up of all the people you've loved before.

A reset theory idea I revived from a years-old draft about picking up traits from people you spend a lot of time around (as I'm quite prone to doing🤭).

There has always been this strange familiarity to you. Even back in the early days, it always felt like you were someone Saeyoung had known for years.

He likes to tease you about being easy to read, but it's more than that. The things he recognises in you are things he has grown to love so much in his closest friends.

He loves to tell silly jokes just to hear you laugh. When he promised you a life that would be happy and without worry, he meant it. Your laugh is infectious, addicting even. A laugh from you is an affirmation to someone as insecure as him.

It took him a while to catch on to the way your giggles resemble Yoosung's sometimes. It's not every time, but more than enough times to be a noticeable quirk of yours. The slight hiss of air escaping through your teeth, the precursor to a proper, real laugh.

That was the first parallel he drew. But it was not the last.

He thought he was imagining things at first, making connections where there weren't any to be made. But then you teasingly called him honey for the first time, truly affectionate and sugary-sweet and it was impossible to not think about how he had seen Zen do the same thing before to make fans of his blush. Of course, this trick worked just as well on him when you did it. When you were in these moods, you were magnetic, more so than even Zen could be.

There is something about how, during discussions, you pause to gather your thoughts right before you're about to conclude a point. You have told him you do it to try and collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence so you don't jumble everything up. He thinks it's smart (and cute). It's something he is trying to implement in his life now.

He also knows it's something Jumin practices and advises others to do too. On occasion, during RFA gatherings, Saeyoung watches you and Jumin have a conversation and fall into similar patterns of speech. It's mesmerising, like watching two mirror images.

It is only after a few years, after getting closer to Jaehee at all that realises there are similarities between the two of you too.

He sees a small echo of her in the way that you tackle challenges, not just the resilience he has always known you're capable of but the way you can dissect a problem down to its core and handle it piece by piece. In the tone and cadence you use when instructing others, kind but deliberate, with no room for doubt.

But she's also in your excitement, in the way your voice builds up and rises in pitch when you're talking about something you love. If it wasn't something he recognised from your first weeks together, he'd attribute it to your many musical movie nights.

It wouldn't be fair to say that these traits are identical to theirs. They're things that are so inherent to you, he couldn't imagine you without your funny hiss-laugh or the cadence of your voice when you're measuring out your words. He finds comfort all the same in the little overlap between you and his friends. It may puzzle him sometimes, but he wouldn't change it for the world.

The cherry on the cake was one day when you were chatting and you scrunched your nose before telling a joke, in the same way he knows he does sometimes. His heart swelled three sizes that day and he wouldn't stop teasing you about it.

[cheritzteam]

[MM] Announcement on Birthday Event for Jumin Han, October 2023

Hello, this is Cheritz.

The answer you shared with us in September helped V maintain his valuable relationship. 

He wants to make sure to thank you for sharing your answer with him. 😉

The high, clear skies are a great reminder that fall is here.

It's been an unusually hot and humid summer, so the cooler weather is a welcome relief.

What kind of summer did you have?

And do you know who has a birthday coming up when the weather gets a little cooler than it has been?

It's none other than C&R's next chairman, Jumin Han!

Jumin seems to be perfect at everything he does, 

but there was a time when he was not so perfect.

Jumin is particularly interested in your frugal habits because he wants to look perfect at things that he rarely sees in his daily life too.

Would you like to show Jumin a little bit of your frugal life for his birthday? 

Check out the announcement below to find out more ~😉

< ��� Jumin Han Birthday Event : Your Frugal Living Tips? >

Jumin Han is very interested in the thrifty and commoner(?) behavior that you have unconsciously in your daily life.

The fast food you ate yesterday, the bags you've been using for years, the coupons for your favorite stores...

'What is seasoned fried chicken...? Is it different from sweet and sour pork?'

Please share your frugal money-saving wisdom with Jumin Han, who is even confused about seasoned fried chicken and sweet and sour pork!

Share your piece of commoner wisdom on social media with the hashtag #MM_CommonerWisdom_JuminHan and try your chances at winning 300 ⌛ hourglasses!

*The content should start with "To Jumin Han" and be written in a tone of speech appropriate for informing the next chairman.

We're also celebrating Jumin Han’s birthday with a bonus giveaway!

Use the hashtag #Happy_Birthday_JuminHan to wish him a happy birthday, and try your chances to win 50 hourglasses⌛ as a reward!♥

Last but not least, we're having a birthday sale on some Jumin Han merchandise

so if you've been hesitant to purchase, please take advantage★ of this opportunity!

Cheritz Market discounted period : October 5th(Thur), 2PM - October 12th(Thur), 2PM (KST) 

< ② Game-Access Event >

If you access the game during the event below, you'll see a commemorative title image for Jumin Han’s birthday! Enjoy the game with the new title image and wish Jumin a happy birthday.

Title Illustration : October 5th(Thur) - October 18th(Wed)

Did you enjoy the announcement of October events?

We would like to thank you in advance

for joining us for Jumin Han’s birthday event.

We wish you a happy October!

Thank you!

Cheritz.