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juni-writesx · 2 years

Text

once, i tried writing juminv's first time.

i never finished it. but i'll post what i have written so far here

for fun.

absolutely 🔞. minors do not interact.

this isn't beta'd or anything because i don't have anyone to go through my bad writing for me,... and i would rather not proofread shit or i'll be here for hours soooo 🤷‍♂️ oh well.

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“Jihyun. . .” the heir purrs; desire evident in the smooth, deep tone of his voice. Grey eyes slightly darkened by arousal as he takes in the sight of his boyfriend pinned down to the mattress underneath him, and the way the photographer’s cheeks are flushed a deep pink, the rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest, and the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips… along with the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Christ. You’re beautiful.” He continues. One of his calloused hands skim across Jihyun’s clothed chest; the soft fabric gentle and soothing, much like the man who was wearing it.

The fact that his boyfriend still remains dressed - and how disappointing it is - remains hidden from Jumin’s face, for he knows that, in due time, he’ll have the chance to undress his love all meticulous and slow-like.

At the moment, Jumin prefers to become acquainted with Jihyun in this intimate way.

Though they had been friends for over twenty years, never once had the heir ever thought that a scenario such as this would ever become a reality, despite the various times he’d imagined it. A dream he had buried deep within him - tangling his thoughts, his heart, for as long as he could remember. . .

It felt like a dream.

He was Jumin Han, after all. He thought himself a mutant for the way he’d occasionally find himself thinking about his best friend in such a way. . .

the night beginning with his boyfriend pinned down by holding his wrists above his head on their queen-sized bed. The heir between the photographer’s legs as he hovered over him. So close to touching in such intimate ways but actually not because he wouldn’t want the encounter to end so soon.

And the noises - oh the noises - that he imagined that would come from Jihyun’s lips would always send Jumin tumbling over the edge.

A tiny, soft whimper comes from Jihyun, and Jumin is pulled from his thoughts.

The heir can’t help but smirk. “Are you enjoying this?”

He watches as his boyfriend nods his head yes, and relishes the way it’s accompanied by a soft, low moan.

How interesting it is to see Jihyun begin to come undone with just a simple touch to clothed skin. Jumin was well-aware that his lover was a sensitive soul, but he hadn’t the slightest clue that he’d be so sensitive to touch, too.

His roaming hand continues its travel along Jihyun’s chest; his thumb accidentally grazing across one of his love’s nipples, and he’s rewarded with an arch of the back into his touch and a moan that’s quite audible.

The reaction sends a shiver down Jumin’s spine - arousal beginning to pool in his lower abdomen from the sound.

“Hm.” He hums before repeating the action, and being rewarded with a hitched breath and another arch of Jihyun’s back off of the bed. “You’re sensitive here.”

“Uh huh. . .” is the photographer’s reply as he licks his lips. His cloudy, mint-colored eyes are closed at the moment, as the heir had requested. Not that it bothers him - oh no. He’d have trouble seeing Jumin regardless, given that his eyes were still deteriorating after Rika’s assault on him.

But Jumin had advised him to close his eyes and just listen to the heir’s voice. And that when one sense is blocked off, all the others become more heightened - a fact that Jihyun knew all too well. Truly.

If things become too much, please tell me, Jihyun. I want you to enjoy this as much as I will.

“Is this all right?” The heir inquires as his thumb brushes against Jihyun’s nipple for a third time.

Yet before the photographer can reply, he can feel Jumin’s index finger and thumb take hold of his nipple through the fabric of his shirt and give it a slight pinch

and the gasp the tumbles from Jihyun's now slackened jaw is one of the prizes of the night.

Jumin hopes there will be many more to come.

A deep chuckle before the heir says, “I take that as a yes.”

Jihyun’s hands fumble for the sheet on the bed, and he balls his hands into fists as he holds on to the fabric tightly. The pleasure coursing through his body as Jumin teases him in such a slow manner makes him whine softly. Yet he doesn’t want Jumin to pick up the pace

nor does it seem like he will any time soon.

I want to take my time with you, Jihyun. I want to learn you as I have since we’ve met. Slowly. With time and patience. So we have a mutual understanding and agreement.

Little did Jihyun know, however, was just how quick he’d be to arouse while under Jumin’s touch. There were still layers of clothes to be discarded

and yet the tautness of his pants was obvious - to the photographer, anyway.

Jumin had yet to press closer to him in such a way that would make him feel his love’s growing need.

Another - louder - whimper makes Jumin’s lips curve into another smirk, and he releases the pressure of his thumb and forefinger. His hand eventually smoothing down Jihyun's chest.

“. . .Jumin.”

A gentle cry of his name - it’s like music to the heir’s ears. “What is it, my love?”

“Need you. Please.”

And the please is accentuated by a slight roll of his hips and another whimper as he’s left without the friction he’s so desperately seeking.

Jumin can’t say he’s all that surprised by Jihyun’s arousal, as it had been a long time coming to get to this point between them -

with their flirtations months after they began living together

and the line of friendship shifted and blurred to something much more than that. . .

If Jumin hadn’t pulled back - hadn’t hesitated and thought that it was just him that was falling deeper, feeling deeper

they would have reached this point many moons ago.

Perhaps to the point where Jihyun wouldn’t have lost his sight. And Jumin wouldn’t have felt as though he was drifting apart from his best friend. . .

. . .the heir pushes those thoughts from his mind. There’s no use thinking about the what-ifs or what-could-have-beens.

What matters the most is that they made it here. Together.

He swallows. “Not yet.” And dips his head down, close to his lover’s neck and breathes him in. Oh, how he loves the floral, yet earthy tone that is solely Jihyun.

Though he does not care much for the tobacco scent that sometimes overpowers the softer smells, he’s gotten used to it after being in such close proximity, and he knows it’s just yet another scent of Jihyun’s that he’s come to find comfort in since they’ve been living together.

Jumin exhales a hot breath against the other's neck and delights in the way his love shivers slightly.

As if he could read the heir’s mind, Jihyun tilts his head ever so slightly to the opposite side, effectively exposing as much skin as he possibly can to Jumin.

And Jumin chuckles. “Impatient, are we?” His nose brushes the flesh along Jihyun’s neck which, in turn, causes the photographer’s breath to hitch once more.

“Yes.”

The response is immediate, and can only be described as whiny.

“Mmm.” The heir responds; a moan under his breath. “And here I always thought you had the patience of a saint. You are a photographer, after all. Do you not have to wait for the perfect moment to capture the best shot…?”

Jumin takes another breath in through his nose before brushing his lips against Jihyun’s neck, and his reward is a gasped moan from the man underneath him.

The photographer can feel the heat of his love’s lips spread through him like a wildfire. He’s never been so aroused in his life. “I - I. . .”

cannot think straight. need you now. have been waiting so long for this.

“You what, Jihyun?” The words are spoken between multiple soft, gentle, closed-mouth kisses up and down his neck.

“. . .Please-!”

It’s all he can manage to say at the moment, for he’s so caught up in all that he’s feeling that he can do nothing but beg and plead for something more than touches above clothing. More than just gentle kisses along his neck.

But Jumin isn’t having it.

“Please, what?” And he kisses his way up along the photographer’s neck, until his nose brushes against his ear, and he whispers, “Tell me what you need, Jihyun.”

“-You. I need you.” His words come out as a ragged gasp. Jumin’s voice so low in his ear has him trembling and releasing his grip of the sheets and fumbling to seek out the heir - any part of him at this point. He needs to feel Jumin in more ways than one.

A hum of approval escapes the heir as Jihyun’s fingers manage to thread through his hair and give it a slight tug. Whether the photographer meant the action or not was a question Jumin would ask later. For now, however, all he knows is that he doesn’t mind it, and he wants his lover to do it again.

Yet he won’t verbalize his desire right now. No - this was Jihyun’s time. After all he’d gone through in his twenty-seven years of living, and all the times he had put others first. . . Jumin wanted this moment to be about Jihyun’s pleasure.

Of course, his boyfriend’s pleasure was much his own. Knowing that he was the one making Jihyun feel aroused and make those noises unabashed for him was pleasurable in itself, and aroused him so. And if he were to focus on himself, the heir would realize just how uncomfortable his boxer-briefs and form-fitting dress pants were becoming as his length hardened within them.

Opening his mouth slightly, he lets out a breath of air as his mouth begins to descend along his love’s neck - open-mouthed kisses this time as he makes a trail to the top of Jihyun’s t-shirt, where his collarbone was visible. He presses his mouth around the flesh and bone then proceeds to suck gently.

“Ju - min!” The photographer cries out in pleasure. His hardened length throbs and he knows the tip is leaking precum against his boxers. His fingers curl even more into Jumin’s hair and he tugs a bit harder, earning a low growl that’s stifled due to the heir’s mouth being occupied at the moment. “I can't - I can’t take much more. . .”

Certainly not if Jumin is capable of making noises such as that. Holy hell, Jihyun thinks to himself. Who knew the heir had such an animalistic side of him and could produce such a noise? Who knew it would go straight through him and down to his aching hardness?

Jumin reluctantly releases his hold on the photographer’s skin and collarbone, pulling back with an audible sigh. However, he is pleased to see the pink tint to where he was sucking on -what he would give to make sure that it would deepen in color; a visible mark where he had claimed his love - a proof of his own love and feeling for the turquoise-haired man beneath him.

“Are you close to coming?”

Leave it to Jumin to be as blunt and straightforward as possible, even at a time like this.

“Yes-!” Jihyun gasps out. “Please touch me. Anywhere. Fuck me. I need to feel you, my love.”

He’s begging at this point, which makes Jumin all the more aroused. It is then that he feels the arousal coursing through his veins; the throb of his fully hardened length pressing uncomfortably against his dress pants.

And the thought of fucking his boyfriend - rough, with wrists tied to the bedposts - has Jumin groaning. “I won’t fuck you, Jihyun,” he whispers huskily as he moves his head from the other’s neck. He shifts himself so he’s able to press the lower half of his body against Jihyun’s, causing the photographer to moan loudly at the friction it caused. “I’d much prefer to continue to take my time. I want you to cum for me, over and over. . .”

and a moan escapes his own lips as he feels his love roll his hips against him. “If you’re not careful. . .you’ll cum too soon and make more of a mess than I intend to make.”

With that, he moves once more - this time up and back away from Jihyun, and the turquoise-haired man lets out a loud noise of complaint at the loss.

“I never pegged you as the impatient type,” he says, moving his hands to the hem of the photographer’s shirt so he can lift it up and over his love’s head. “How long have you wanted this?”

“Too long.” Jihyun blurts out as he sits up and eases out of his shirt. Goosebumps spread across the exposed flesh of his chest, torso, and arms as the temperature difference between the warmth of arousal and the air to the room are quite different. “. . .Much too long,” he whispers as he lies back down on the plush bed.

A rare, tender smile curls Jumin’s lips before he leans down in order to capture his boyfriend’s lips in a kiss that is slow, meaningful, and they both cannot help but to moan within it - each of them swallowing the other's sound.

The heir ends the kiss with soft pecks to his lover’s lips before pulling back and maneuvering himself into a position that would make it easiest for him to strip Jihyun from his pants.

As for Jihyun - his hands fall onto the bed and he inhales a sharp breath at the feeling of Jumin’s own hands oh so close to where he desperately needs to be touched and he whimpers over the fact that he’s not getting the touch that he desires most. “I’m sorry,” he says gently. “We’ll build up to this. . .”

And Jumin finds himself chuckling; his motions stalling for a moment. “It is quite all right, my love. As long as you’re enjoying yourself and enjoying this.” And with that, he begins to work the other out of his pants.

Jumin had always thought Jihyun was a very attractive man. But now. . . with the photographer stripped down to his boxers, the heir had to take the time to appreciate just how beautiful, angelic even, the other was.

From the top of his disheveled hair to the tips of his toes - Jihyun was breathtaking.

“Beautiful.” He murmurs as he crawls back between the man’s thighs, resting his hands upon each of the other's hips.

A silence rests over them for a moment before the turquoise-haired man softly inquires, “Even the scars? . . .The tattoo?”

“Yes.” The answer is immediate. “Every inch of you is beautiful to me. . .”

I may not be able to undo the past, but you are my present, Jihyun.

“. . .We can do something about the tattoo, if you’d like. After a visit with Dr. Lee about your eyes.”

Jihyun nods, and says quietly, “All right.”

“Look at me, Jihyun.” It’s a hushed request that is obliged, and grey eyes focus on the cloudy mint-colored hues of his boyfriend’s - remembering that once, long ago, when asked, the heir would proclaim that that same color, though more vibrant at the time, were his favorite color.

And he swallows, knowing full well that Jihyun had trouble seeing him, despite them being so close in proximity. He reaches one hand up so he can cup Jihyun’s cheek, and he smiles gently as he feels his love press into his touch.

“I love you,” Jihyun’s voice is soft, gentle, as he speaks. He turns his head in the heir’s hand so he can place a gently kiss to his lover’s palm. An act that has Jumin’s breath hitching, while the turquoise-haired man hums softly. “So much.”

“And I, you,” the heir replies, regaining his composure quickly. He hadn’t the slightest idea that such a simple action could have such an effect on him, and he's grateful that his boyfriend doesn’t explore it further.

There will be plenty of time for Jihyun to learn all of Jumin another time. For this moment was all about the photographer and his pleasure. . .

The heir moves his hand and places it on Jihyun’s hip once more, thumbs hooking around the top of the other's boxers. “May I?”

“Please do.”

And he does, almost agonizingly slow. Feeling the warmth of Jihyun’s skin on his own as he frees him from the confines of his boxers, and allows it to join the rest of the photographer’s clothes in a neat pile on the floor beside the bed.

The turquoise-haired man shivers from the contrast of the warmth of his body and the temperature of the room. “This is truly what you want, Jumin?”

He raises an eyebrow at the question, and his head tilts slightly to the side. “Shouldn’t I be the one inquiring? You’re currently stripped completely bare. . .”

The photographer’s cheeks flush red at that. “. . .You should be, too.”

“Soon.” Jumin states firmly. “Right now, this is all about you. Allow me to be greedy - like this.” One of his hands slides across Jihyun’s sides, causing the man to shiver again, and he lets out a soft sigh.

When his other hand grips the photographer’s hip, however, he’s rewarded with a hitched breath. “Good. Let me hear you, Jihyun. I want to know how you feel. Vocalize your pleasure as best you can, or inform me that an adjustment is needed.”

“O - Okay. . .” is his breathy reply to Jumin’s wants, and the heir is pleased - as evident by the upward curve of his lips.

Jumin’s hand that's roaming across Jihyun’s side begins to descend lower: down the side, across his hip bone, and along the flesh of his thigh, and the heir is delighted to hear his boyfriend’s breath come in soft pants as he allows a soft breathy whines tumble from his lips.

“That’s it. . .” Jumin encourages; allowing a low moan to escape from his own slightly parted lips, and his tongue quickly darts out to wet it. “Moan for me.”

And Jihyun does just that.

“I love the sounds you’re making.” Though Jumin would never admit it aloud, they were much better than any his mind had conjured up when he imagined Jihyun coming undone for him.

And he had never imagined the turquoise-haired man would react so positively to his praises, for out of the corner of his eye, the heir notices his boyfriend’s hardened length twitch at the praise; precum leaking from the tip and coating it a bit. “God, Jihyun,” he praises; voice thick. He wets his lips once again and swallows thickly.

He ghosts his roaming hand over the other’s length, and he’s rewarded by a roll of the hips - a desperate attempt for the touch. . .for the release that Jihyun needs. “J -Ju...min.”

“What is it, love? Tell me.”

As grateful as the heir is whenever Jihyun voiced his wants, needs, or desires - because he knew the photographer had trouble doing so -

he’d always imagined him unable to form coherent words because he was too worked up. It was one (of many) desires that the heir thought of whenever he needed release. He hopes to have that same effect on Jihyun at some point during this intimate exchange between them.

“I need to come.” The photographer whined. Hips still slowly rolling, pressing up against Jumin’s hand that was now stilled and hovering over his throbbing, aching length.

At that admission, Jumin presses himself against Jihyun once again; allowing the photographer to feel just how much he needed him, too. He maneuvers himself in such a way where he’s able to slip his hand around Jihyun’s aching length with ease and stroke firmly, and he relishes the sounds that tumble from the other's mouth - whines and sighs and moans and panted breathing; a melodic symphony to Jumin’s ears - all for him, and because of him.

He cannot help but feel proud. Greedy. Yet as much as he wants more, he knows that Jihyun is near his peak.

At least the first, Jumin hopes. He isn't sure how many climaxes Jihyun would be able to reach, but he's more than willing to find out.

“Come for me.” It's certainly more of a command than a request; a low growl that seems as though it was made wholly for Jihyun’s ears.

And oh, does the photographer do just as he is told. Back arching slightly off the mattress as his climax takes hold - a high-pitched moan of relief escapes him as he comes in spurts across his lower abdomen, and a bit on Jumin’s hand. Lingering whimpers as Jumin continues to stroke him even while his length becomes flaccid.

“Good.” The heir says simply, then ceases his ministrations. A smirk curves his lips as his eyes take in all of the photographer now… the way his chest and face are flushed pink. The hair matted to his forehead from sweat. The heavy breathing and the way his chest rises and falls with each breath.

And he can't help but to moan - low and deep - at the sight. If things were to end here, Jumin would be more than satisfied. The smirk on his lips shift to a soft, tender smile that he reserves just for his boyfriend. “Are you alright, my love?”

Jihyun licks his lips as he nods sleepily. “. . .Yes.” And he takes a moment to swallow. “Yes, I’m fine.”

The heir knows that the other is being honest and sincere, and not just saying he is in order to make Jumin more comfortable with their coupling. “I love you.”

The photographer relaxes against the bed. “I love you, too. . .”

And the photographer feels the heir release his length, which falls to rest against his lower abdomen - while his mint eyes watch as Jumin pulls back and kneels between his legs before bringing the hand that was wrapped around his once hardened length up to his lips

and begin lick the essence that was left behind.

Jihyun gasps just as Jumin moans. He wasn't prepared for such a sight, nor would he have ever imagined such a thing would occur or how erotic it would be to see it.

Jumin, on the other hand, had imagined doing such a thing before. Tasting Jihyun was just one of many fantasies he’s had over time, though he never could imagine just how the photographer tasted. . .

better than the finest of red wines.

The turquoise-haired man swallowed thickly; arousal beginning to flow through his veins once more. Is this normal? he finds himself wondering, though he keeps it to himself for the time being. He watches, still, as Jumin pulls his hand away from his lips and tongue - a sure sign that he's cleaned his hands and fingers of the photographer’s essence.

Silently, Jumin brings that hand, along with his other one, to the first button of his work jacket and oh so slowly begins to undo them - one

one.

And he hears Jihyun’s breath hitch, which causes his fingers to immediately stop. “We don't have to do this --” the heir says.

“--No.” His boyfriend's response is immediate, and the room falls silent. “I want this. Seeing you taste me on your fingers and then watching you undress so slow. . .”

He cannot seem to find the words to finish his sentence, for he lets out a whimper instead. His length twitching against his abdomen as it begins to harden once more. A moment passes before he says, “Please let me help you.”

His hands reach up and come to rest over Jumin’s - slender fingers finding the button that the heir was just about to undo. A comfortable silence falls over the room as Jihyun undoes the button, allowing the jacket to fall open.

Jumin wastes no time at all; shrugging out of the jacket and allowing it to fall onto the bed behind him. All the while Jihyun’s hands slide up Jumin's chest in order to seek out the first button of Jumin's dress shirt.

“Your impatience is showing again, Jihyun.” There’s amusement in the heir’s tone. “You've completely skipped over my tie.”

Not that he minds, really. It's something he’s able to get undone easily enough. He loosens it and slips it off with ease, and allows it to join his jacket.

“Sorry,” the turquoise-haired man replies softly as he continues to undo the buttons of Jumin’s dress shirt; his fingers slightly trembling as he anticipates what's to come.

"Relax…" the heir says, soothingly. "I'm just teasing…" and his fingers come to rest on Jihyun's to steady them and help in undoing the buttons, then discards it to the floor after he's pushed out of it and he's quickly folded it up. Next comes the tank top he wears underneath it, and he shivers as Jihyun's fingertips roam across his chest and abdomen.

"I want to feel you…." the photographer whispers. "All of you."

Jumin swallows a groan that threatens to escape through his now parted lips, and his breath catches in his throat. His eyes become half-lidded, and though Jihyun may not be able to properly see the other's come hither, I want to be inside of you look … the heir surely hopes he can, at the very least, sense it in the air between them. "As do I, to you." He can only reply through panted breaths.

"Are you becoming impatient, my love?" Jihyun inquires as his hands roam to the top of Jumin's dress slacks. What a shame it was that Jumin wore such tight fitting dress pants, along with a belt. He'd love nothing more than to surprise his boyfriend by reaching down past his slacks and boxer-briefs and grab ahold of his length and stroke him slow.

"Perhaps."

"Please do…" and he moans a little as his fingers meet in the middle of the Heir's belt buckle, fumbling with it a little.

Jumin's silent as he assists Jihyun in unbuckling his pants — shedding the belt off in a swift motion and dropping it to the floor with his pile of clothes so the buckle doesn't clang against the ground and make Jihyun startled. And it isn't long until they both shed Jumin of the clothes that Jihyun wished were gone a long while ago.

The photographer's hand reaches for the Heir's hardened length and he takes it into his hand gently; slowly giving him experimental strokes. He can't help but smile hearing the other curse under his breath and feel the pre-come leak from the tip.

"You're ready."

"God, yes," he says through gritted teeth as he gently places his own fingers under Jihyun's chin to brush his lips against the other's. "Are you?"

Jihyun breathes out, "yes….." as he strokes himself; not truly surprised that he's hard once again for his love.

And Jumin kisses him passionately and deeply as he lays Jihyun back down onto the bed, a groan slipping through the kiss as Jihyun's hand moves away from his aching hardness.

#juminv #vumin #jumin x v #mystic messenger jumin #v mystic messenger #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fic #mystic messenger smut #🔞#fanfiction #juni writes

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juni-writesx · 2 years

Text

another wip Wednesday that no one asked for.

this time it's a juminv hanahaki AU.(a not so great one. lol.)

the reason why i don't write angst .... i'm terrible at it.

rated pg.

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Jumin’s 8 when he first has a tickle in the back of his throat, followed by the feeling of something velvety soft and an overwhelming urge to cough.

He’s well-aware it’s best to cough into his elbow, or even into a handkerchief, but he isn’t quick enough; the urge is much too strong, and he places his hand over his mouth instead so the germs do not get into the air.

And he feels something land in his hand as he coughs – a curious feeling indeed. Had something come up? He hadn’t eaten since lunch… so he couldn’t be coughing up food. Right?

It wasn’t as if he was sick, or at least he didn’t believe that he was. So he didn’t believe that it could be phlegm…

Troubled, he pulled his hand away when he had finished coughing, and his eyes peered down into his hand. Eyebrows raising curiously when he spots a few small blue forget-me-nots laying in his palm.

He’s heard of this before. Hanahaki disease. A disease that makes someone cough up flowers due to unrequited love.

A silly thing, he thinks. There is no one that he feels that way toward.

He finds his way to the nearest bathroom to wash his hands and convinces himself that since he and a friend were roaming around in a garden, he must have accidentally swallowed some flowers there.

He’s twelve when he’s sitting on his bed, glancing down at a child sleeping on the floor nearby. The child’s parents had gone on a trip, leaving him and his sister alone for a week.

Can’t he stay with us? He has nowhere else to go, and no one to look after him–

No. We’re not babysitters. And I don’t see why you feel the need to hang out with him–

–He’s my friend!

That does not mean that he has any right staying with us, which he will not be.

Except that he was. At least during the night. Jumin had made sure that the boy had a somewhat comfortable place to rest his head.

And so the boy wouldn’t be alone.

The heir takes a breath before he succumbs to a coughing fit so sudden that he’s unable to cover his mouth quick enough, and a few forget-me-nots sputter from his mouth and onto his lap.

“…Jumin?” the boy on the floor says groggily.

To which Jumin quickly reaches behind him to grab a pillow so he can stifle the sound.

“…Jumin….are you okay?”

It takes him a few moments to respond to the inquiry, as he is busy swallowing in order to coat his throat and to refrain from coughing more.

“Y–Yeah, Jihyun. I’m okay…. Just need water.” He’s quick on his feet when he needs to be; covering up his actions with a lie. He makes a note to clean up the strange flowers before sunrise, since he doesn’t want anyone, let alone Jihyun, to know.

“…Go back to sleep.”

Years later, he’s sixteen and he doesn’t remember the last time he felt the need to cough so strongly. He’d just finished saying goodbye to Jihyun on the phone when it happens.

Only this time it feels as though he cannot catch an adequate breath as he coughs and spits out the flowers.

He doesn’t understand it. The attacks are few and far between, and he doesn’t know what triggers it. Each time has been different.

This time he had called his friend to inform him that he was going abroad for a while for school. He hoped that, in the future, he would have the chance to go to University outside of Seoul.

And when an opportunity presented itself for Jumin to take a trip with his school for learning purposes, he felt as though it would be a good place to start – a chance to see if there was a school that captured his interest.

He thought it much better than just researching and going by hearsay.

Jihyun sounded quite sad to hear the news, but sounded thankful when Jumin said he wouldn’t be gone long; that he’d certainly keep in touch, and that he would tell him when he returned.

And the heir was sure that the conversation ended on a good note – they both seemed to be okay with this.

However, for some reason, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Jumin’s stomach as he reaches for his throat. As he tries to breathe…

It takes a bit of time until he’s able to relaxed, and he’s slumped back against the wall. His chest heaving as he takes full, deep breaths after what feels like a million small ones.

His floor is a random array of forget-me-nots, and he sputters some more out before his head tilts upward and against the wall – his fingers curling into fists at his side.

When he’s in his early twenties, he forgets all about the strange flowers, as it had been yet another stretch of time when he found himself not coughing anything up.

Hell, he hadn’t even caught a cold in that stretch of time. He was as fit as a fiddle; as healthy as ever.

Yet he notices that Jihyun seems different. More silent than usual; his mind is elsewhere.

“Are you alright?” Jumin asks.

“Yes. I’m fine.” Silence falls between them until… “I think I’m in love.”

The heir cocks his head to the side and looks at his friend. “Oh? How do you know?”

“I…. I have a disease, Jumin. Hanahaki disease. Have you heard of it before?”

He’s quick to blurt out, “No. I haven’t.” and his fingers fiddle with one of the cuffs of his sleeve. Half afraid of what his friend is going to say, but he would be damned if he knew why.

“Well. It’s a disease where you cough up flowers due to unrequited love…”

“…Is there a cure?”

“Yes.” Jihyun nods. “Either the one you love reciprocates your feelings, or you get surgery to remove the flowers.”

“I see.” Jumin knew the first cure, but not the second. Not that he had the disease – oh no. There was no way. Whatever he had (that clearly wasn’t affecting him anymore, he thinks) was something else entirely. “So… who is the lucky person?”

“Ah. Her name’s Rika. She’s very nice. I think you’d like her. I should introduce you two sometime.”

As he listens to Jihyun, Jumin feels a sensation in his mouth – close to his molars and the sides of his cheeks – and he swallows repeatedly. He breathes slowly through his nose as he tries to make the feeling go away.

He feels like he is going to be ill, and feels like he’s burning up.

Jihyun notices the change in the atmosphere, and he glances in his direction. “You don’t look too good. Are you alright?” He shifts a little and reaches out to him. “Here let me–”

“–No!” Jumin all but shouts, which triggers him to cough and sputter. He moves quickly away from the other’s outstretched hand and stands up, swaying as he does. He covers his mouth as he begins to cough more, and he shakes his head back and forth repeatedly in an attempt to not allow the flowers to escape from his mouth and, in turn, having them seen.

So he tries to swallow. once. twice. hoping to consume the flowers that he’s coughed up. And he turns on his heel so his friend cannot see that he’s trying so desperately not to choke on the flowers that are caught in his throat.

“Jumin–!” Jihyun says in a tone unlike any he has heard. He sounds concerned. Panicked.

And over the thrum in Jumin’s ears, he can hear rustling as if the other is moving.

Which he was and he had because the next thing the heir knows is there’s a hand on his shoulder and his flinching and moving away from the touch.

Suddenly, he hears Jihyun coughing and gagging and Jumin doesn’t understand why.

…Perhaps whatever he had, was, in fact, something so rare and contagious and now Jihyun caught it. With that thought in his muddled mind, he muffles an excuse to leave.

But not before catching the other leaning over, hands resting upon his knees, and almost violently coughing up a pink dog rose that seems to fall to the ground as if it’s heavier than what it should be.

Jihyun wipes his mouth as he takes a few deep breaths and turns his head in Jumin’s direction…

only to find him gone.

It’s been a week since, and Jumin is bedridden. Feverish, weak, and his bed is an explosion of those blue forget-me-nots that he cannot seem to stop coughing up.

What other sort of illness could make one cough up flowers to the point where it would feel as though their lungs were on fire and the weight of their chest was crushing them and breathing was the most laborious and tiring thing they had to do?

Now is the time that he wishes he had looked into it sooner. There must be a reasonable explanation for this. …Something other than the known disease, of course.

Instead, he groans weakly, and closes his eyes tighter as he kicks off the sheet on top of him – sending the forget-me-nots resting upon it flying into the air and floating back down on top of, and around, him.

The sunlight filtering into his room is too much. The heat – is it cranked? is it off? he cannot remember – makes him feel as though he’s standing in front of a fire. It couldn’t be his body temperature as Jumin is, typically, cold by nature; he’s always had a low body temperature and, as such, been one to become cold rather easily.

However, even kicking off the sheet isn’t enough for him to cool down. If anything, he feels worse.

He attempts to sleep – he attempts to do anything to help him get through this. Although, most of the time, his feverish dreams lead him down memory lane… of the events that had happened a week ago… when all he wants to do is forget about them.

How could he allow himself to become so ill that he would start coughing up the damn flowers in front of his friend?

In hindsight, he should have made sure that he was healthy enough to spend some time with Jihyun.

Because if he was healthy then, he certainly wouldn’t be bedridden right now.

It’s another week and he’s feeling a bit better than before. He’s no longer laying helpless among what feels like a garden of forget-me-nots. He’s even vacuumed most of them up –

Though it was rather concerning to see that some of them were spotted red.

Jumin doesn’t know what that means and does not care to venture too far down that path.

All he knows is that he can breathe a little easier. He’s out of bed. And he hasn’t thought about what had happened prior to this day.

In fact, he had managed to repress any and all feeling that he had before this okay feeling he was now left with. A big accomplishment, he believes.

He’d much rather feel this than that.

This state of being has also made it so he hasn’t spoken to Jihyun since the incident. Which, truth be told, probably wasn’t such a bad thing. With a wince, he believes it better this way. The other would have much more time to spend with the woman he’s falling in love with–

–The threat of a cough has Jumin’s train of thought changing immediately.

Although he isn’t one hundred percent better, he feels the best course of action would be to dive into his work. As a new employee of C&R International, he will do what he can to make his father proud.

He’d do anything to keep his mind occupied. His feelings and emotions under control.

The coughing at bay.

About a month later, Jumin is invited to go out with Jihyun and his now girlfriend, Rika. As much as he’d prefer to stay home and continue his work, he agrees, albeit after much convincing from his friend.

He watches their interactions – her display of affection that Jihyun seems to shy away from – (or was that just Jumin’s imagination?) – because he’s a rather private person and the heir wants to tell her to stop being rude and inconsiderate…

On the other hand, this is their first meeting, and perhaps he’s judging her a bit too hard, too fast. With his experiences with women, it’s nothing new; he’s always been rather judgmental toward them… mostly because all they’ve ever wanted was his title, status, and wealth.

That’s not to say that she’s like those he’s encountered before, but he still can’t help but be weary of her. As such, he makes sure to keep an eye and an ear on her. All the while convincing himself that it’s for his own sake – not for anyone else’s.

…With his hands in his jacket pockets, he trails behind them. Silent. Observant.

Yet when Rika turns her head to look at him over her shoulder, there’s something about the look in her eyes that makes him falter slightly. “I heard you and V have been friends for a very long time!“ She says. "It’s nice to finally meet you, Jumin! V talks about you a lot!”

Her voice grates on his ears a bit. It’s saccharine – and he’s never been particularly fond of sweets.

“Funny. I haven’t heard all that much about you.” oh, he doesn’t mean to quip, but the words are out much faster than he can think not to verbalize it.

And he knows how rude it was to say, and he isn’t at all surprised when she stops in her tracks, grabbing onto Jihyun to make sure that he stops right along with her.

Jumin’s eyes flick from the young woman to the man at her side and back again. And there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach – a heaviness to his chest that he can’t explain.

“Really?” Rika pouts, turning her attention to Jihyun. “You haven’t said anything about me?”

“He told me you were nice,” Jumin responds.

She seems pleased with that, for she smiles a little. “Oh, well… I try to be. The world would be a better place if we all treated one another with love and care. Without hate fueling our hearts.” and she leans up against her boyfriend a little, nuzzling her head against him. “Isn’t that right, V?”

He nods in return, a smile curving his own lips as he glances down at her.

The velvety feeling in the back of Jumin’s throat is sudden and he spits a few forget-me-nots toward the couple.

“Jumin!? What’s going on?” Jihyun asks, reaching out toward his friend. “Talk to me!”

Defensively, Jumin takes a few steps back… his elbow covering his mouth as he hunches over. Willing himself to stop coughing and to breathe through this.

“Is he sick?” Rika inquires, looking at Jumin, watching his movements.

“I don’t think so.” Jihyun replies. His concern is evident in his voice and etched on his face. “Jumin… –!”

The heir takes in a gasping breath and manages to say, “I must go…” before turning on his heel.

Rika frowns as she looks down at the small flowers that have fallen at her feet. She takes in the delicateness of them… the softness… their shade of blue.

And she sees red.

#juminv #vumin #mystic messenger #mystic messenger jumin #mystic messenger v #hanahaki au #mysme #jumin x v #fanfiction #juni writes

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