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kangjaehee · 2 years

Text

RFA + sex headcanons

because i am in a Mood. minors do not interact

content under the cut

YOOSUNG.

SUBBY.

like... very. He likes it when u take control.

He likes it when you’re mean to him, when you demand, when you give him no choice but to do as you say if he wants to be a good boy for you.

Humiliation is his shit kinda... he says he doesn’t like it when you highlight how sensitive he is but you, who sees how he trembles at every word you say, you know different.

And on that regard... he’s sensitive. Like, the slightest touch and the right words can crumble him into a whimpering mess within seconds. You’re actually quite shocked. But you absolutely love it.

And he’s loud, too. Doesn’t at all hold back his cries, which sound oh so beautiful to you.

Very into pet play. Likes when you take care of him, likes the element of humiliation that comes with being treated like an animal.

Make him do the gross embarrassing things. Make him eat from a bowl and bark. It gets him off.

Surprisingly, he’s not that much into physical pain or impact, just the control element of it all. He likes it as part of something else, but not in and of itself.

Actually he gets off more in the concept of punishment than the act itself... it urges him on. You think it’s cute. It makes him harder to hear your little dismissive laugh after he whines.

He finishes quite fast but my god does he have stamina. He can go for rounds and rounds that leave you asking for a break.

it turns out all those lolol all nighters he pulled did actually mean something....

Also: the idea of you taking care of him while he’s in the middle of a game??? and not letting him cum until he wins????? GOD it makes him melt.

Very kissy during aftercare. Also very talkative.

You actually have no idea how a person can have this much energy after cumming so many times but hey this is Kim Yoosung we’re talking about.

He doesn’t sext but he does call you to tell you how needy he is. Over the line, you hear him stroke himself to your voice. It makes you lose your mind.

ZEN.

this man has 1 goal and 1 goal only: making you feel good

service top pleasure dom whatever you wanna call it. He just wants you to feel loved and sexy and give you the orgasm of your life.

He likes feeling you. Groping your thigh, manhandling you, kissing you red and raw.

(of course, all while he praises you and tells you how unbelievably gorgeous you are...)

And you absolutely love it. It makes you feel wanted, powerful.

Active sex drive. Y’all do it every other day or so. Not always for long. But it’s an integral part of your relationship.

He’d do it anywhere. In the kitchen, living room, bathroom, car... He doesn’t need to be comfortable, he just needs his hands and your body to touch.

But don’t misinterpret him, he loves planned affairs too. Especially when you go out of your way to set the mood with lighting and scents and stuff.

LOVES it when you dress up for him. Put on some cute lingerie and sit there, watching as he turns beet red and his breath deepens.

And send him pics. be the biggest tease you can be. Anything relating to you drives him crazy. In his eyes, you’re the sexiest being on the planet, no matter what anyone has told you.

Although keep in mind that he Will warn u about the power u have over him and The Beast potentially coming out at an unwanted moment...

You always tell him to be patient and wait, as if that’s not exactly what you’re after. The Beast always comes out when he gets home though, with him absolutely devouring you in kisses.

Stamina for days... like come on let’s be real he’s a musical theatre performer. He’s Never done.

Not very kinky but has a thing for breeding? creampieing? He wants to claim you, to have something of his inside you.

...And you don’t hate the idea but Babe don’t you think we’re... too young for kids?

Oh my God sorry I didn’t mean it like that... But, hey, don’t you think I’d make a good dad ;)?

You roll your eyes and laugh.

Also he’s not so opposed to the idea of bondage... to have unrestricted access to your body like that (or you to his...)

Surpisingly likes toys. If they make the experience better for you... (and he wants to try them too, though he’s not gonna admit it).

He’s not very keen on being on the receiving end. Doesn’t exactly like not being the one in charge, but he relents every once in a while.

He particularly loves blowjobs. He thinks you look so stupidly sexy while doing them, and the way he flusters and bites his lip... it’s so cute

(One day you’re gonna get him on his knees for you, one day.)

JAEHEE.

Although the tension between you two and the desire you harbored for each other was undeniable, it took you quite a while to get intimate.

When you crossed that threshold, though... Well, let’s just say there was no return.

Lots of kissing. Before, during, and after. She kisses you intensely, with purpose, like she wants to eat you whole. It’s a bit overwhelming. Makes you wonder for how long she’s been saving this.

Quick, does not hesitate. Teases very little, goes straight to it, and has you shaking and remembering nothing but her name in a matter of miniutes.

Stupidly skilled with her hands. They’re good for so many more things other than kneading dough...

Absolutely loves to hear your moans and other sounds. It urges her on. Please be as loud as you possibly can.

The sight of her large honey eyes looking up at you while she’s eating you out has to be one of your favorites.

But while she absolutely adores being the one to take care of you, she actually pefers it the other way around...

And you do too. Because, my god this woman is the cutest being in the universe when she’s flustered. And it’s extremely easy to fluster her.

All it takes is a smile, a kiss, a remark on how wet she is for you... and boom. You’ve reduced her to a mess of whimpers. She’s sensitive and easy to crack.

And it’s funny because all the while you’ll see her trying desperately to hold onto the propriety that she’s so known for. But soon enough it’s gone and she’s cursing and pleading.

You love to tease her because of this. She groans like she hates it but actually doesn’t, actually wants you to do it, draw this out as long as you can. It makes her climax much more satisfying.

She loves when u play with her boobs. Bite them, mark them, grab them, pinch them, maybe slap them if the occasion requires it...

Two words: Praise. Kink.

...Yeah she very obviously has it.

Tell her how well she’s doing no matter what it is that she’s doing. How good she is at taking your fingers down her pretty wet cunt. How well she’s sucking on your clit. It makes her feel like she’s in heaven.

And of course, tell her how she’s a good girl, how she’s your good girl. And watch her fucking dissolve.

(...yeah she’s quite a sub).

She’s into some other stuff... classics like bondage and the occasional spank, more adventurous stuff like wax play.

She likes sexual experimentation. She’d try most things once, just to have the experience, as long as they’re safe, sane, and consensual.

She has quite a bit of stamina and can last long, although she doesn’t exactly like cumming many times in a row or overstimulation in general. Instead, she prefers being edged until she can barely hold it in.

She also cries. It shocked you the first time, but... she cries when cumming.

And after you’re done, she’s always extremely tender and soft, wanting to cling to you for long. You always reassure her, tell her how good she did. Often you like to shower after, or eat something together. Cuddles after sex are mandatory but always remember to get up and do your necessities.

You guys don’t do it often, and don’t like to do it quick. The Jaehee motto is “If you’re going to do anything, do it how it’s supposed to be done” and that applies to sex. But that just makes the encounters you do have all the more special.

JUMIN

for someone whose only experience is having explored his best firend’s body once out of “curiosity” he’s surprisingly very good.

(JUMINV REAL i will die on this hill. i am cheritz actually.)

instinct-driven. doesn’t hesitate. takes you in whole.

composure and propriety thrown out the window, he will make you his. he’s gonna make sure that you forget your own name and only remember his, that you forget everything else but the feeling of his hands on your body and how he pounds inside you.

It’s not hard to get him going. Like at all. Just kiss him deep the way he likes it, grind agaist him, and bam.

He likes to tease verbally, you like grinding against my thigh, love? but not a lot. Eventually his desire to just have you wins him over.

It’s possessive, yes, but it’s his way of showing you just how much he wants you and no one else. You think of it as almost a privilege to be loved so deeply by someone.

Loves marking you, biting into you and then seeing the pretty purple bruises that from, that mark you as irrevocably his. Kisses you a lot during and after. A lot of You’re mines coming out of his mouth.

Also, he loves hearing your moans. And you love hearing his.

It’s actually very funny to tease him, because it’s very easy and he tries to make it subtle. Just push out your shoulder, watch as his face gets red and he swallows, struggling to keep his poise.

And then God save you, because he will not hold back...

You guys do it often. It’s a way for him to destress, so it’s almost a daily affair. A little quickie before bed and after waking up never hurt anyone...

Doesn’t like doing it in public, likes it when it’s just the two of you, though he for sure likes teasing you in public... You’ve given him a handjob in the limo in more than one occasion.

He’s averagely kinky. Likes bondage. Likes calling you his kitten. Likes slapping your ass when you’re both really into it. Not much beyond that.

The dominant position is comfortable to him, he can let his desires run wild and free, and you like how he exerts his power, how he’s so confident. It almost lights you up.

Though he also has a strange, almost hidden desire for the other side of the coin... he likes being the one with the power taken away, too.

It always oddly attracted him, but he never paid attention to those desires, as they made no sense. But then you suddenly decided to be more dominant one time, and oh boy something awoke in him.

It’s not very easy for him to submit and let go. But it’s extremely liberating once he does so. For a man who has to be thinking and making decisions and bearing more responsibility on his shoulders than any person could imagine, being in a position where he doesn’t have to make any of the decisions is almost cathartic.

He likes being your kitten. Likes the sight of you above him, holding him by a leash and smiling, just as much as he loves the sight of you under him.

Likes impact quite a bit, actually. More on him than on you. It’s a little humiliating to imagine the heir of one of Korea’s biggest conglomerates being spanked raw. But that’s inexplicably a turn-on.

Likes latex a lot. The sight of you on it is pure art.

Also into shibari. Likes the intricacy of it, the protocol, the fact that it’s an art form.

Lot’s of stamina, doesn’t cum easily. Will always make sure you’re the one to finish first or with him. Prefers to cuddle after, sometimes for hours, tightly and in silence or with just a few words exchanged. It’s the act of bodies becoming one, of feeling being not said but expressed in the way his skin contacts with yours.

SEVEN.

Okay so wbk this man is a menace. This applies to sex too.

Most of the time, it’s sloppy and imporvised. Undeliberate, hands everywhere, kisses all over the face. He doesn’t think, and you don’t either. It’s almost funny.

A tease, just because he absolutely loves to see you riled up and begging for it. But, do it a bit aggressively. He’s a bit of a brat. He pushes, and wants you to push back and push harder.

He doesn’t need things at all to be fancy, he can have fun with very little. He’s creative.

But you know what his absolute shit is?? Roleplay.

He does it almost naturally. Has fun with it. Likes the performance element, the not being himself, the play. It’s a way for him to take advantage of all the costumes he’s kept form his agency days.

You’ve found him on more than one occasion just weasring a maid dress and pretending to clean... The indirect was caught and enacted upon.

He’s kind of a jack of all trades. He can top, he can bottom, he can take the strap and rail you until walking is an arduous task.

freak in the streets and the sheets. Truly willing to try anything once.

Pain enjoyer. Likes spanking you, and likes you doing it to him too.

Also likes overstimulation. Edge him, then let him cum, and do not let him stop... just let him go off like that.

Lots and lots of stamina. And also just fucking dies after. Does everything and then five minutes after he’s absolutely fucking spent. To you, it’s shocking. To go from being so loud to being so still...

Likes to kiss during foreplay, but not much during or after. Prefers to tease with words or just let the actions speak for themselves.

One thing about Choi Saeyoung: he’s a romantic partner and extremely entertaining lover. You can trust that stuff will never get repetitive on him. Always switching it up... in all ways possible.

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angelyuji · 9 months

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skirts and promises

707 x reader (most (if not all) dialouge from day 9 phone call) reader wear a skirt but no gendered pronouns

hope you guys enjoy! i know not many of you follow me for mystic messenger stuff but it's summer so im back on the grind :)) no warnings! maybe a little suggestive so yk.... anyways, i'm a 707 girlie till i die thats literally my man i need him so bad it physically hurts me like omg thats my FREAKING MANNNN.... have fun reading!

you glance at seven sitting next to you on the couch, typing at lightening speed on his laptop. you quietly pull out your phone, pretending to look through the chatrooms before dialing his number on the RFA app.

“hello?” seven laughs next to you and you pout at the phone.

“why are you laughing?” you look over at him suspiciously.

“i noticed you glancing at me while pressing on the phone, so i wondered if you were trying to call me. and you really did! why are you so cute? i even love how predictable you are.” you blush at seven’s words. you jump up and run into the kitchen, giggling to yourself. “hmm? why are you running into the kitchen? i can’t see you now!” seven whines as you press yourself against the fridge and slide down to the floor.

“it feels like we’re actually talking on the phone if we can’t see each other!” you speak into the phone, smiling to yourself.

“what?” you peek your head around the corner and watch as seven tilts his head in confusion. “huh…you’re right…then i want to hide too! where should i go?” seven stands up, phone pressed to his ear. “i want to go into the kitchen too!”

“no, no! then there wouldn’t be any point in me hiding!” you whine, and you watch as seven throws his head back and laughs. he plops back onto the couch, arms spread out on the top of the couch. you bite your lip and watch as he relaxes into the couch.

seven sighs, “…i miss you when you disappear from my sight. i want to be right beside you… always.” a warm silence fills the apartment. you feel your heart beat faster. you turn your head back to face the cabinets across from you.

“i… i feel the same.” you whisper, afraid to disturb the feeling in the air.

seven’s voice quiets as he talks into the phone, “you know, it’s good to laugh. i mean, if we can manage to laugh in this situation, what other miracle can we hope for?” you hum, letting him continue. “i think this is what suits us. that no matter what happens, we can look at each other and laugh.” he stops talking and you wait. “promise me… promise me that from now on, we’ll look at each other, smile, and get through whatever comes.”

“i promise.” you smile.

seven stands up and walks towards the kitchen, stopping at the entry. “and if we get tired in the process… our robot can help us laugh.”

“i want to make you smile too.” you giggle, clutching the phone to your chest.

“then poke your head out!” you peek your head out, seven grabs your legs, and pulls. you scream and he cackles as you lay flat on the floor. he sits on his knees, clutching his sides. you raise yourself up onto your elbows and smile. “why are you smiling? you just looked into my eyes!”

“i don’t know, i guess i just like you a lot.” you lay back down, covering your face as you feel a blush creep back up your face.

seven laughs, pulling you closer. “do you like me that much?” he whispers and holds himself over you. one hand cups your face, “don’t pout, i like you too.” he moves back to his knees with a huff. “god, i like you so much… i want to tease you, i want to watch your cute little face.”

you sit up and hit his arm, feeling your face burn. “you’re so annoying.”

seven laughs harder, “i’m so happy we can manage to play in such a small apartment.”

“interesting you say that when you didn’t even want to be near me earlier.” you huff and cross your arms.

seven grabs your hand, “ahh, just forget about that now. what’s important is the present, and the future we’ll create… together.” you smile, crossing your fingers together. “oh, but there’s a problem right now.”

“huh? what problem?” your eyes widen in panic.

“you do realize that you’re pretty defenseless, right?” seven lets go of your hand to cup your face once more. “i’m not just a guy that types away at a laptop. i’m really, really trying hard to hold back right now.” his thumb brushes against your lips and you hold your breath. you watch as his eyes drift to your lips. his face gets close and you close your eyes. you feel as if time stops, but he pauses, you can feel his breath on your lips. all of a sudden, you hear a loud laugh, you open your eyes and seven’s on the floor once more.

you move closer to him and whack his arm, “you are such a jerk, seven.”

you flop back onto the floor, annoyance turning to laughter. seven sits back onto the floor, crisscross. “ahh, don’t worry, (y/n). i’m super good at holding it in. speaking of, can’t you- can’t you pull down your skirt a little. i think- i think it kind of crawled up when you were laughing.” his eyes drift to your thighs. you look down and notice that your skirt had ridden up, exposing more of your thighs.

you smile, innocently, “what if i don’t want to? what if i don’t want to listen to you?” you use a finger to slowly pull your skirt up higher. seven’s hands clasp yours, stopping you from going further.

his eyes were wide and you tilt your head, noticing how wide his pupils are. “you don’t want to? please… i feel like my nose is gonna start bleeding if you keep going like this… i’m sure of it.” you pull one side of your sweater down below your shoulder, smiling slightly. seven’s breathing gets heavy. “god… i don’t think- i can’t-” seven shoots up, surprising you. “i need to go work out a bit. i just want to work out of my body too, not just my brain all the time.” you get up with him. “maybe- maybe a cold shower too…” he mumbles, brushing his hand through his hair.

“wait- seven-” you grab his arm.

he looks back at you with a weird expression. “and uh… please be careful of your skirt. i’m sorry.” you bite your lip and pout.

“fine… i guess i should hang up then and help you.” you grab your phone and seven grabs your hand, pulling you closer to him.

“huh? help me? wait- why- why are you trying to hang up? not yet!”

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yoosungisbabie · 7 months

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all that really matters - day four

@juminweek2019

jumin x mc

rating: T

prompt: acts of service

warnings: slightly suggestive phrases/moments

word count: 2,925

ao3 link

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

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Han!”

“Is she injured?”

“What dress is she wearing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

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

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

Mel x

#mystic messenger #jumin han #jumin #mysme #my writing #han jumin #jumin fanfic #juminweek2023 #mysme fanfic #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger fanfic #jujuw23d4 #jujuw23

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xelasrecords · 1 year

Text

Thank You for the Food

Han Jumin x Reader

Living alone is fun and liberating until you fall sick and there's no one to ask for help when you're too tired to cook or fetch your own food. This is a lighthearted wintry story for anyone who needs a holiday pick-me-up.

In Another Story, when Jumin texts you "text denied", you can get a heart from him if you reply with "denial denied". That's when I know this man got verbal sparring potential, which is to say, my kind of man. The banter here is 100% powered by that.

Words: 3.5k

Masterlist Read on AO3

Jumin likes you. You don't know this yet, and perhaps his feelings haven't grown that deep to be labelled as love, but he has a very strong inclination towards you.

Jumin wants to do almost everything for you. You're an important member of the RFA, as he likes to remind you, so he wants to cook for you when you fall sick. It's a reasonable thing to do, so please don't read too much into this.

Jumin is atrocious at cooking. His list of experiences consists of making instant pancakes, and that's it, really.

But it's late and he's here after a hectic work day, arranging the steaming soup he'd personally packed from home on your dining table. He's here, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, winter coat hung by the door, concern knitted into his face. He's here, standing as awkward as the bare Christmas tree in the room that you haven't had the chance to decorate, but you don't feel uncomfortable because he's here. He's here, he's here.

Your heart makes way for him.

Jumin sets down a spoon by your hand. "Is your headache persisting? If you need to see a doctor, I can refer you to a specialist in the area."

You shake your head. "It's fine, I just need to rest. I'm only like this because I overworked myself. The holiday season is always rough. And yes," you say, holding up a hand before he could protest, "I've taken a break from work." If you don't stop him in time, you know you'd be subjected to a slew of nagging, fully backed up with scientific research.

"How about your fever?" Jumin asks while sliding into the chair opposing you. After a beat, he leans across the table with an arm stretched out. "May I?"

It's an opportunity to engage in physical contact with Jumin, and you are an opportunist when it comes to him. Your hand reaches for his and presses it to your forehead. Your skin burns against his cold palm, but the fault isn't entirely on your fever.

Jumin stands up immediately and places his other hand on the side of your neck. "Your temperature is still very high. Are you sure you can take care of yourself like this?"

You give him a pointed look. "If it's low I'd be a corpse."

"If it's lower you'd be normal."

"Are you saying I'm abnormal, strange, odd, peculiar, et cetera?"

"I'm referring to your current biological state. Only with a healthy body, you can function with optimal productivity." Jumin is very determined to share his wisdom. "If you'd like a caretaker…" he trails off, frowning. "Actually, I'm available to stay over if you need me to," he enunciates his offer carefully, letting it hang like a question.

Though every cell in your body screams in agreement, you set your hopes aside. He could have meant nothing by it. He could have only been extending his hospitality as a friend, nothing more.

His hands are still on you for longer than necessary.

"I'll decide based on how good your masterpiece tastes." It was a safe answer. As you shift your attention to the soup in front of you, Jumin pulls back, seemingly too aware of what he has let happen.

The soup is still hot, its swirling steam brushing your face. It has a muddy texture and a stuffy aroma with a note of coarseness, which you doubt it's how it's supposed to smell, but you're willing to give Jumin the benefit of the doubt.

"Masterpiece? Well, I suppose it is." He straightens his vest and slides back into his chair. "My chef said ginseng chicken soup is an effective remedy to fever, so I would have to thank him later."

"Wait." Your mouth hangs open, spoon hovering. "This is supposed to be chicken soup?"

"Yes."

You blink. "Then where's the chicken?"

"I burned it." Jumin clasps his fingers on the table. "I didn't have time to boil another one, but I'm sure its essence has seeped into the broth. Chicken essence also has medicinal qualities, I heard."

"Medicinal," you echo. Perhaps you should retract the benefit you extended to him.

Jumin gives you a confident nod and you smile hesitantly, raising the spoon as a cheer then take a sip. Then fight back a cough. Then fight to keep your expression straight.

Not to be dramatic, but it tastes like death. Did Jumin pour the entire ocean tainted by factory waste into this soup?

His creation should be on the Guinness record. It's a miracle how it can be excruciatingly salty and bitter with none of the usual earthy sweetness from the ginseng. This is best served for your worst enemies, except you aren't sure if your current worst enemy is the soup or Jumin. If he told you this is an elaborate plot to worsen your health to prevent you from returning to your hellish routine, you would probably believe it.

It would be an insult to thank the chef for this.

But Jumin's watching you eagerly and you can't bear to stomp on his spirit, so despite how your stomach is very much stomping in protest, you force a wide grin. "It's very unique and flavourful! I can still taste the chicken on my tongue. It's like its poor burnt soul had never left the pot. The power of phantom chicken, truly." You cover your mouth, attempting to hide a cough. "Did you follow the exact recipe?"

Jumin seems relieved at your reaction. "Actually, I took some liberties. I may be a beginner, but it would be boring if I followed the chef's instructions precisely, so I put my own twist and innovated a brand new dish."

This innovation could invent a new illness in people.

"Wow, I didn't know you're creative too. Good for you!" You can feel your grin evolving into a wince, so you quickly scoop more soup into your mouth. Better finish it fast than let it grow cold. Who knows how it would taste then.

"May I give it a try? I'm curious how it managed to warrant such high praise from you," he asks.

Your throat is as rough as asphalt when you croak, "You didn't try when you made this?"

"I was rushing to get to you. As you already know, I'm good in all my endeavours, so I was confident this would turn out well." Jumin sits back with arms crossed, a smug smile tugging his lips. "It appears that once again, I'm right."

Look where over-the-top lying and grade-A bullshitting got you.

"No," you briskly say.

His smile turns into a frown. "No?"

"No! You're not suggesting we share a spoon, are you? That'd be unhygienic."

"Surely you have another spoon at home?" He looks around the kitchen and sees the cutlery rack. "Oh, it's there. Please sit down, don't exert yourself. I can get it on my own."

As Jumin walks towards the rack, you quickly jump off your chair while ignoring the pounding headache that follows. "Jumin, wait." You grab at his arm desperately. "You made that soup for me, yes? That means it's mine to finish. Don't even think about stealing my food."

He turns to you almost just as fast. "Don't jump like that. Are you all right?" He holds you by your shoulders, grey eyes flitting up and down to examine you. Only when he's reassured of your wellbeing that he relaxes. "I find it surprising that you don't want to share food. When have you changed?"

"Since you made that soup with your whole heart." You motion at the bowl beside you. "It's mine, all right?" Without waiting, you swipe it off the table and try to gulp down the rest.

Keyword: try.

It's a fantastically failed attempt. They say the more you grow, the more you know yourself. Well, it's true. The questionable things you'd do for a crush know no bounds. Turns out, it's you who deserves an award for being the best fool in love.

You're about to finish when you begin to choke, and what a sight it is. You, trying to dial back the coughing to a minimum to avoid spreading the virus and embarrassment, yet visibly cringing from swallowing the contents. Jumin, his whole body frigid in alarm before switching the bowl out of your grasp with a glass of water, which you gratefully gulp down.

So much for pretension.

"Okay, fine, it's horrible," you give in, tears blurring your sight. Would it be too much to declare your taste buds to be damaged?

Jumin's expression is a slow-motion picturesque of horror. "You lied to me."

"I can't mock your hard work to your face," you hurriedly say. "I love the, um, texture? It's soupy. Transported me to the seaside. Very refreshing."

If the seaside is engulfed by a tsunami, that is.

"Soup is supposed to have the texture of soup," he says.

"It could've gone worse! It could've been so lumpy it's chewy."

Jumin looks affronted. "Has the fever gone to your head? What kind of liquid is chewable?"

The salt has.

"The fever is in my head. And in my other body parts. Don't you know how fever works?" You cross your arms. "And, insinuating me of delirium and therefore incapable of forming coherent thoughts just because I'm slightly sick only makes you sound all the more condescending. Maybe your soup has transformed me. Maybe your soup has dissolved my brain into mush. Maybe your power of cooking has transcended science."

"Then stop eating it if you hate it so much. Just how bad could it be?" Jumin fetches a spoon from the cutlery rack and tries it himself.

To no one's surprise and probably Jumin's only, he instantly sputters it out. You watch him. Then, with an attitude fuelled by a hundred I-told-you-so's, you calmly pass him a glass of water.

"Why," he gasps, "would you put your body through this? This is inedible."

You pat the edge of his lips with a tissue—a wonderful disguise to touch him again—and decide to test him. "Why do you think?"

"If you're doing this to spare my feelings, you're only wasting your energy. I don't get easily offended and I'm excellent at receiving feedback. I would've improved this soup if you had told me the truth."

You wrestle the bowl out of his hand and place it on the table. "Jumin, from the bottom of my heart, I'm begging you not to do anything more to it. Ever heard of what doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result means?"

"The very definition of improvement means implementing different methods to make it better."

"Not when those methods have one thing in common: you."

"You seem to have lost your pleasantries, but I'll excuse it since you're ill," says Jumin, tone totally pleasant.

"Do you know how aggravating you can be?" you retort, not at all pleasant.

Jumin nods solemnly. "I've heard Zen accusing me with more colourful insults. It also appears that Assistant Kang often shares his opinion." Then he puts on a neutral expression so carefully crafted that you know it's anything but. It's an expression designed to boast. "Of course, I'm one of a kind. It's natural that not everyone can get along with me. It'd be a privilege to gain my courtesy."

And yet here you are in my house. "I wouldn't say it's a privilege to be personally poisoned by you."

Jumin grunts. "That's not what you implied when you doled out those high compliments."

"If you'd read into the subtext, you'd know I wasn't praising you." You pick up the bowl again and sigh. "Let's move on to something else after I finish this."

"Are you serious?"

You mimic his deadpan tone the best you can, "I'm always serious."

"So now you drink poison."

You shrug. "You said it, not me."

This time, Jumin touches you first. His fingers splay out on your arm, halting you from doing another stupid thing. As you proclaimed earlier: the best fool in love.

"Pardon me if I still can't comprehend why you're so adamant to finish that," he says. "Unless you're trying to prove that the fever has infected your brain?"

You aren't going to let Jumin push you to confess first. Not when you're in your worst shape, complete with ashen lips and bird-nest hair from lying in bed the whole day. Your nightmare before Christmas has arrived too soon.

"Are you asking because you really have no idea or are you looking for confirmation?"

Jumin tilts his head. "What are you insinuating?"

"Don't play coy, Jumin."

"I'm not playing anything. It would be cruel to play with a sick person."

Sometimes, a person could get a sharp zing of epiphany and it would feel like this is it, this is what you're meant to do. And sometimes, that moment comes when the man who stirs up a flurry of emotions in you is so infuriating that it has become your new mission to make him confess first.

The visit, the food, the dancing around the truth. They all click. The fever has not gone to your head.

Who visits a random woman's place on a freezing night, during peak season at work, when the said woman is only felled with a mild illness, nothing medication and rest can't cure?

Not Jumin.

"Let me ask you one thing. Why are you here?" you prod.

Jumin looks at you as if it's something you should already know. A common answer to a common question. "You need to eat a proper meal and no one's around to take care of you. I'm not going to let you drag yourself out for food when it's a blizzard outside."

Glancing out the window where snow is falling rapidly, you won't deny that trudging alone in that weather would be a poor survival method. Zero out of ten doctors would suggest it.

You snort, eyeing the soup at hand. "And this is a proper meal?"

"Accidents happen, but my intention remains the same."

"You could've ordered something for me, sent over a chef, or asked Jaehee to check on me. Aren't you too busy to waste your precious time like this?"

"No time is wasted if it's spent on you. You're an important person to me, so I needed to make sure with my own eyes that you're all right." Jumin's forehead creases with worry. "All I could think about at work was you. I was afraid you might faint and no one would be here to help."

You don't bother to hold back a small smile. "Well, you're here now, so what's your assessment?"

At least he has the decency to look contrite. "Moderately alarming upon first look, worse after consuming my soup. My alarm is on full blare now, so please, stop this madness." Jumin pries the bowl out of your hand and sets it back on the table before fixing his posture. After a moment, he pushes the bowl farther out of your reach for good measure.

You shake your head at how adorable he is. "I also have an assessment on my own."

"Go on."

"I think the things you said and did are a roundabout way to confess your feelings for me. You like me."

You let it float between you, trying to gauge Jumin's reaction, but he's still, too still for your liking. You know you aren't wrong, but could this be the wrong time to poke at his feelings?

"And would it bother you," Jumin asks slowly, "if I tell you that you are correct?"

Bother you?

Bother you.

Jumin must think that his feelings could disrupt your peace, but if they could, then you don't want to know another moment of peace. He's the one who gives you the sense of calmness that you long for. His mere presence brings you comfort. He's the one you rely on to lift your spirits. It's appalling how your feelings that are so palpable to you could be invisible in the eye of your direct affection.

You take a step closer, studying him. Black hair thoroughly mussed by the wind, ruddy cheeks, and a tender expression that you've never seen him wear with other people. "Do you really think you're the only one with a crush?" you whisper.

Jumin stares at you in disbelief, but it slowly morphs into relief when the truth dawns on him. "I didn't want to be," he murmurs. "Truth be told, I've had my suspicions since you insisted to eat that cursed dish, but I couldn't be sure until you give me a clear sign."

"So you admit that you're searching for a confirmation." A smug grin appears on your lips. "I literally swallowed poison for you. If that isn't a clear enough sign, then I don't know what is."

He clears his throat. "I wouldn't go so far as to call my cooking poison. It was a beginner mistake at worst. Can't you spare some mercy on my first trial?"

You gawp. "To hell with mercy. I was your experiment subject?"

"I thought it'd be more special if you were the first person to try my cooking."

"It was certainly nothing like anything I've tasted before," you say.

His lips pressed into a smile. "Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I was responding to your sarcasm with sarcasm. Do keep up." Jumin's eyes twinkle with mischief, and it makes you want to strangle and kiss him at the same time.

You rake your fingers through your hair. "Should I kick you out?"

He raises his dark brows. "You wouldn't want to do that."

"I want to do a lot of things to you, Jumin." You hoist yourself up the table and smirk at him. "Shame they'd have to wait until I recover."

Carefully, he slots himself between your legs, arms kept to his sides so he won't touch your bare thighs by accident. It's endearing how cautious he is. "Is there anything I can do to make your illness go away faster? I can't wait to see what you've got planned."

You laugh. "You'd be scandalised."

You close your legs just a bit more so they brush against his trousers. Jumin's breath hitches and you arch a brow, a silent dare for him to make his next move. He chuckles, then settles his hands on your thighs. A light touch that turns into a reassuring grip.

"I doubt they could rival my desires against you." His tone takes on a sultry cadence that draws your body in.

"Stay the night. You made the offer earlier, and the weather is too harsh to go home. So, stay."

Jumin lights up at your request, and you feel giddy with how transparent he is. Look at the joy you can spark within him. "Are you going to pour wine for me while putting on the records too?"

You crack up laughing. "I can't believe you just quoted 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'!"

"Paraphrased," he corrects. "It's unfortunate that they don't mention wine in the song. Didn't they know wine is the most fitting drink for the holidays?"

"You think wine is the best fitting drink for any occasion."

"Red wine contains antioxidants that are helpful in preventing coronary artery disease and has been proven to reduce stress and anxiety. It has countless qualities that are beneficial for your health," says Jumin.

"Like your ginseng chicken soup?"

He sighs. "I see you're fond of reminding me of my failures."

You make a show of cleaning invisible dirt on his shoulders. "I'm fond of seeing you admitting defeat," you say. "And you haven't given me an answer. Will you stay or do I have to belt out the whole song to persuade you?"

The corner of Jumin's mouth twitches up. He's always been fond of your theatrics, and now, finally, he knows that you want to be with him as much as he does. "Of course I'll stay, I'd be a fool to turn you down. In any case, I'm glad everything works out."

The triumph in your chest transforms into suspicion. "What works out?"

"My overnight clothes are packed inside that briefcase." Jumin gestures at the leather briefcase on your couch.

"You planned for this?" you ask, partly in awe, mostly in surprise.

"I simply prepared for all the possible scenarios."

"And one of them is to sleep with me."

Jumin rubs his lips. "I never mentioned anything about sleeping together."

You roll your eyes. "Fine, but don't ask me to sleep with you later, because I won't."

"Is this the game you want to play?" Jumin braces his hands on the counter, trapping you between him. You have to keep reminding yourself not to make out with him when you're still sick. "Very well. For your information, I never lose. If you don't want to sleep with me, then don't." He leans in, lips nearly brushing your ear. "See how long you can last."

But just because you're ill doesn't mean you've lost your touch. You tilt your head to meet his gaze and smirk. "Game on."

Footnotes:

Wanted to title this "Jumin's Bullshit" as a reference to Tyler's Bullshit from the film The Menu, but alas. Holler if you've watched it tho!

Went with ginseng chicken soup because it's a traditional Korean healing food and I thought Jumin would want to cook something with a homemade feel to comfort you. Also, I was craving it.

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

#jumin's naïve borderline unhinged side is the highlight of his character actually #mysme jumin #jumin han #jumin x mc #jumin x you #jumin x reader #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger imagines #jumin han fluff #mm #jumin han fic #xela writes

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thestargirlfromoon · 1 year

Text

Ge Saeran

Headcanons

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

● Saeran did not have a normal childhood, he never had toys during his childhood, so when you give him something like a new plush toy, he is very happy and names them all with flower-related names.

● When you has a birthday, he sends those pictures of flowers with cheesy happy birthday phrases (don't make fun of him, he'll be sad lmao).

● Saeran became a vegetarian, this all started when on his birthday he went fishing with Seven, he felt very sad to hear that the worms were going to be sacrificed.Seven noticed and gave up fishing but from that day on Saeran decided to stop eating fish and then stopped all kinds of meat for good.

● He loves to feel connected with nature, he prefers to go to parks rather than to busy places like shopping malls.

● Saeran is very sensitive when it comes to physical affection, just a kiss on the forehead is enough to make him blush and feel needy (he will hug you and not want to let you go).

● He's cheesy but in a cute way, he'll be constantly spouting lines about how much he'll love you forever.

● Although he has a lot of talent in the area of technology like hacking, he is not the kind of person who uses his cell phone very often.Saeran usually uses them only for exchanging messages or calls.He spent a lot of time in front of screens in Magenta so now he just wants to spend his free time with other things like reading, looking at the sky and look at flowers with you.

● He is not used to physical touch but when it comes to you he loves to touch you, he is constantly holding your hand and will not let go of you at all, even the RFA has noticed and play with you two because of this.

● Saeran still has a very hard time dealing with compliments (although he loves it when you compliment him), so if you just tell him how adorable and beautiful he is, he will just get embarrassed and change the subject saying that you are.

● If he has a favorite cartoon that he watches with you, it's probably "We bare bears."

● One of Saeran's favorite colors is pink (this is the reason why he doesn't mind bleaching to even out the color of the ends of his hair).

● He had never been to the beach before he left Magenta.when you, he and the whole RFA went for the first time he was very delighted to see the blue sky reflecting on the water(he didn't want to leave so soon so you all went back to the hotel only at night lol).

● GE Saeran likes less "agitated" music, I see him listening a lot to the music of cigarettes after s3x and Lana del rey.

● His favorite movie genre is adventure.

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dilucsrevenge · 2 years

Note

headcanons for jaehee as a dom and as a sub? 👁️

every time i think about jaehee my brain just goes #women.

nsfw content under the cut. minors do not interact.

jaehee as a dom

not much of an aggressive or assertive dom, more of a service top so she is more than willing to do what she needs to for your pleasure

however, she does like it very much when you dress up for her. she cannot deny how pretty you look in lingerie bought specifically for her

at first she needed a little guidance with things you like a dislike, with work taking up most of her time she was quite inexperienced until she met you.

now she has an obnoxiously high sex drive, but she can’t help it when her partner is this stunning!

she’s always asking if you like what she’s doing to you, and may get the slightest bit bossy to hear you verbally tell her how much you are enjoying this.

jaehee learned very quickly that her favorite place to be is between your legs, looking up at you to watch you squirm as she goes down on you. even if she is the dominant one, she’ll never pass up an opportunity to please you

she loves it when you are loud, it puts the biggest smile on her face every time she hears you moaning and whimpering her name.

she’s very good with her fingers. which is not a surprise to anyone considering the speed she has to move them at to reply to emails and messages while at work

she’s madly in love with you so aftercare is a huge must with her. thankfully she is quite literally the master of it and has you soothed and falling asleep in a matter of minutes,

jaehee as a sub

jaehee as a sub is almost exactly what you would expect from her. shy, quiet, overly sweet, never asks for too much out of you.

you almost have to encourage her over and over again to get any noises out of her.

luckily, she’s very sensitive so it’s not too hard to eventually get her away from being quiet,

she does beg for you to not leave marks on her where they can be visibly seen, which isn’t a problem since the inside of her thighs and chest are her most sensitive spots.

you learned quickly that she enjoys being the submissive one with you. relieving all the stress that builds up on her makes the experience even more enjoyable.

she usually likes things a little soft when she’s submissive, but won’t deny you being a little rough with her every once in a while if she’s really in the mood,

that being said, her favorite things are having your fingers in her mouth and being pinned down to the bed with your hands holding her wrists down.

she found out quickly that she likes temperature play. the two of you had just enjoyed a cold dessert and you happened to go down on her and the rest is history after that.

she likes to dress up for you. a lot. the way you stare her down and worship her body and compliment her over and over again puts her on cloud nine instantly.

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sentinelpri · 1 year

Text

Dye

Saeyoung Choi is sick of having red hair.

It’s three in the morning as the redhead stands in front of the mirror in his bathroom, golden eyes tired and body covered in nothing but a black tank-top and matching boxer shorts. He’s exhausted and should really be in bed considering that he has to take Saeran to therapy at eight, but his dreams have rendered him unable to sleep yet again. He drums his fingers against the edge of the marble that lines the counter, his eyes on the two boxes of bleach and the box of toner that are sat there.

There’s a shower cap over his hair, that of which is soaking in a copious amount of coconut oil. It’s been that way for a few hours, just as the tutorial he googled at 12AM told him. As he follows the instructions on the first bottle of bleach to develop it before pulling out his phone and logging into the RFA chatroom.

707 has entered the chatroom.

707: hey guys!

707: guess what

Yoosung☆: What is it Seven?

707: I’M DYEING MY HAIR

Jumin Han: Right now?

Yoosung☆: What color??

707: It’s a surprise!

707: d:

707: You’ll have to catch the glory of it in person next time you see me! I’m still working on it as we speak : D

ZEN: You have such a beautiful natural red that people would kill for and you’re over here dyeing it…

Seven feels his stomach drop at that, a little offended. He’s been wanting to dye his hair for years to escape the striking resemblance he has to his mother. After the new member joined the RFA and everything went to shit, leading to the discovery of Mint Eye and the retrieval of Saeran, things have calmed down somewhat. Saeran is back from the psychiatric ward he was placed in for a few months and is now living along with Seven and Vanderwood in Seven’s large home. The new member has settled into a comfortable romantic relationship with Jaehee (who deserves to be happy after all her years of servitude under Jumin) and helped the former assistant with her new coffee shop. Everything is peaceful and Seven has gotten a lot of closure regarding the situation (minus what has happened with V and Rika, who have been impossible for him to track down), and things are settling.

Seven is ready to escape the past somehow now that things have changed. What better way to do that than to change his classic look?

ZEN: Seven, I sure hope this is just one of your pranks. If not… RIP beautiful red hair T_T

Jumin Han: Seven.

And now Jumin’s there.

Honestly, Seven didn’t expect for the older man to be online so late, but seeing his name pop up on the chat log makes him smile. While the rest of the RFA may see them as nothing more than friends, their relationship crossed into romantic territory a while ago and their one year anniversary is in less than two weeks. They’ve agreed that for both of their safety, it’s best to keep their relationship under wraps until everything settles down and Jumin inherits C&R from Chairman Han, but that doesn’t bother Seven too much. He’s used to keeping secrets, anyhow.

707: YES DADDY!?!??

ZEN: I suddenly feel very nauseous.

Yoosung☆: Same… ew.

Jumin Han: Can I call you?

Seven’s heart skips a beat at that.

707: Yes, daddy (;

Jumin Han: Don’t call me that here. You’re going to disturb the other members.

707: Fine, fine. Master it is, then!

707: Talk to you in a minute then, master Jumin (;

707 has left the chatroom.

Jumin Han has left the chatroom.

Yoosung☆: So are we just going to ignore all of that?

ZEN: For the sake of my sanity and mental health?

ZEN: Yeah

ZEN: We are going to ignore all of it.

Yoosung☆: Ight then ima dip.

Yoosung☆ has left the chatroom.

ZEN has left the chatroom.

Seconds later, Seven’s phone starts to ring. He answers the call, sets it on speaker, and places the device face-up on the bathroom counter. Then, he puts on the gloves that came with the bleach and starts on his hair. Part of him thinks it’ll turn out great. The other part of him suspects that it’ll be ugly or botched enough for him to have to wear a wig over it, especially considering that his glasses are abandoned in his bedroom and he can hardly see anything.

“Jumin, why are you calling this early?” Seven asks and smiles when he hears Jumin’s low, sleepy voice on the other line.

“Is it early or is it late for you, Saeyoung? It sounds as if you’ve been awake all night,” Jumin subtly calls Seven out like he always does.

“You’re not wrong, but why are you awake?”

“Ah… I woke up on my own. I could sense that you were awake, waiting for me.”

Seven chuckles.

“I don’t know if that’s romantic or creepy.”

“Interpret it as you please, but did you mean what you said in the chatroom?”

“What, about calling you master?” Seven snarks with a quirked brow and starts to paint his hair with the bleach solution.

“No, about dyeing your hair.”

“Oh, yeah, no, I was a hundred percent serious! I’m actually doing it right now!”

“What color?”

“White.”

“...In one night? Won’t that damage it severely?”

Admittedly, Jumin has a point. Hair-bleaching is something you should go get done at a salon, and it’s also something you should only do once every few months to avoid damage to your hair. Bleaching it back to back comes with the risk of frying it off. Seven knows that. He just doesn’t care all that much.

“I don’t care if it does. Worst comes to worst, my hair starts falling out or turning brittle so I have to shave my head and wear a wig for a couple of months. I think I’ll live.”

“Alright, then…” Jumin trails off. There’s an awkward few seconds of silence that makes Seven wonder if the older man hung up until he looks down at the screen to see that the call is still going. Finally, Jumin speaks again. “Are you doing okay?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You usually only make sudden, drastic changes to your physical appearance when you’re struggling mentally.”

Seven’s stomach drops at that- mostly because it’s true. He’s done crazy shit to his hair, pierced his own body, and gotten a variety of tattoos when under immense stress. Most of the time, he doesn’t regret any of it, but sometimes… Well, sometimes it’s gone terribly; an infected piercing here, an ugly tattoo there, the occasional hat-over-his-head-for-a-few-months. Still, he tries to deny it, because denying his problems is something that Seven is accustomed to.

“C’mon, Jumin! That’s ridiculous! When have I ever done that?”

“Well… Do you recall illegally buying a tattoo gun to tattoo your own chest a few years back?”

Seven flinches and thinks of touching his chest before realizing that his gloved hands are drenched in hair bleach. Still, he remembers it like yesterday- a shitty hand-done cross with crooked lines that he had to have covered up a few years later. The new piece is nice, the ugly cross turned into a cross-marked gravestone with flowers all over it to cover the bad line-work. Though he wouldn’t say it out loud, he wishes he’d never had any of it done in the first place.

“Yes, yes, I remember! Are you not going to let me live that down?”

“Considering that you cried and squeezed my hand so hard that you nearly broke the bones in it when I took you to go get a cover up done for it last year because of how badly it hurt? No, I’m not.”

“Okay, that was one time when I was like fifteen, and have you ever gotten a tattoo before? Yeah, I didn’t think so! Those bitches hurt!”

Seven can’t help but be defensive about it. After all, his least favorite thing in their relationship is when Jumin tries to scold and parent him like he’s a child. It’s embarrassing, especially coming from someone who didn’t have to grow up nearly as fast as he did- from someone who was handed a kind father and an entire empire from the very start instead of the shit hand that Seven got. And it’s true that Jumin is a responsible adult, much more responsible than Seven, but still. Seven is a prideful man who hates feeling like he’s being talked down to.

“Alright, fine. How about the instance a couple years ago where you got snake bite piercings done on your tongue and complained afterwards because you couldn’t eat solid food for a week?”

Seven’s frustration quickly builds. Jumin won’t just drop the issue, nor will Jumin allow him so much as a moment to defend himself.

“That was-”

“And when you were eighteen and got gauges in your ears that you tried to upgrade too fast to the point where you had a gauge blowout?”

“Jumin, that’s different!” Seven exclaims.

“You still hide your ears with your hair because of that. Your earlobes are deformed around the holes because of it and they won’t close back. It’s serious,” Jumin continues, going on and on. Seven’s eyes flicker to the mirror and land on his ears, which are- as Jumin said- incredibly scarred and misshapen around the perimeter of his gauges. “And I know you haven’t changed since then, either. Right after we brought Saeran back, you went and pierced your own belly button and it still hasn’t fully healed. Remember when you had to take antibiotics for the infection that gave you?”

“I thought you said it looked good!”

“It does look good now that it’s not red and oozing with puss from a localized bacterial infection. I never said I didn’t like any of the things I’ve mentioned, just that they’ve been rash decisions made under intense stress that you’ve complained about or suffered because of later. I don’t want you going and dyeing your hair only to hate it or risk burning your scalp with bleach, but since you’ve already started the process, I suppose I can’t stop you… Saeyoung, you really need to go to a professional next time.”

“Really? You’re going to judge me for this?”

“I’m not judging you, I’m concerned. There’s a difference.”

“Fine, Jumin… If you’re going to be like that-”

“Saeyoung,” Jumin cuts him off once more, but this time, his tone is much softer. The tension seeps from Seven’s body as the ravenette tries to calm him down. “I’m not judging you. What you’re doing is an unhealthy coping mechanism of yours and I’m trying to make you aware of it so you don’t go and do it again. I’ll stop talking about it if it’s upsetting you so much, but please bring it up to your therapist at your next appointment and get her input.”

“Yeah, okay,” Seven replies. He’s sure it sounds sarcastic, because in all honesty, he didn’t want to hear any of the rants that Jumin just went on about his bad coping mechanisms. Part of getting closer to the RFA and maintaining close personal relationships is accepting concern from others, though, even if it’s expressed in a way that he doesn’t always like. “...Thank you for worrying.”

“What’s got you so stressed out?”

“Who said I’m stressed out?”

“Well, you’re up past three in the morning dyeing your hair. You know you can tell me, Saeyoung.”

Seven sighs and finishes covering his hair in the bleach, careful to cover it so the color develops properly. Then, he answers Jumin’s question while disposing of his gloves and sitting on the bathroom counter.

“It’s Saeran… He was doing pretty good for a few week stint there, going on walks with me and coming out for meals, but he’s been getting bad again over the last couple days and I’m scared he’s going into a depressive episode. Any time I go to check on him he ignores me or tells me to go away.”

“Can you not just go into his room?”

And of course Jumin would say that because he doesn’t understand being mentally ill- at least not in the way that Saeran is. Since the younger man has moved in with Seven, it’s been a relief, but it’s also been difficult. Between making sure Saeran eats, drinks, showers, and goes to therapy, Seven is starting to crumble. On top of that, following RFA’s party, he hasn’t been able to track down V or RIka- so God knows what they’re up to.

“Not really? It’s a fine balance, you know! That’s his safe space, I don’t want to invade it unless it’s a life or death situation,” Seven explains. He remembers clearing out his old work room and setting it up for Saeran before he came home from the psychiatric ward. It looks completely different with a brand new bed, a desk, a television, bookshelves, and curtains that weren’t there before. Unfortunately, even though Seven offered to take Saeran to buy decorations and help him personalize it, Saeran hasn’t taken him up on the offer. So, the room has remained incredibly bland and bleak. “I told him that the room I gave him is his to decorate and live in as he pleases and that I won’t go in there without his permission. Plus, he’s an adult… He’s capable of making his own decisions! I can’t infantalize him just because he’s struggling with his mental health. I mean, I’m almost as bad as he is, I just… He’s been through more, and he hasn’t had the chance to really live as his own person- as an adult- like I have.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to either of you for you to compare traumas. Don’t think like that.”

Suddenly, the conversation is far too tense and far more personal than it should be. Seven is at a point where he doesn’t really need to do anything but wait for a half hour to wash the bleach out of his hair, but he figures he can use it as an excuse to hang up on his overly-concerned boyfriend.

“You’re right. Well, I’m going to get off here and finish my hair! I’m pretty sure by the time it develops and everything, I’ll have to take Saeran to his weekly therapy session, so I’ve gotta haul ass.”

“Alright, then. I look forward to seeing how it turns out,” Jumin responds. Seven can hear his smile through the phone. “I love you, Saeyoung.”

“I love you, too… Jumin. Go back to bed and get some rest if you can.”

“I’ll try. Talk to you soon, then.”

Then, Jumin hangs up, leaving Seven with no one but himself and this bleached hair that he’s sure to regret.

Somehow, with enough bleach, a shit ton of toner, and probably a pound of coconut oil, Seven manages to get his hair bright white without making it fall out. Unfortunately, it leaves him with so little time that he can’t even spare half an hour to get a nap in. When he approaches Saeran’s door around 7AM, he’s exhausted and a little loopy.

He knocks, his fist lightly tapping the wood three times. No response. After a couple minutes, he knocks again. Still no response.

“Saeran, are you awake?” Seven asks, to which Saeran snaps at him.

“What do you want?”

“We need to go to your therapy appointment! C’mon, let’s go- we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave in the next ten minutes!”

“I already texted my therapist,” Seven’s stomach drops at those words. It makes sense that Saeran wants to skip after the decline he’s had over the past few days. It’s frustrating. All he wants is for Saeran to feel better and it just can’t happen fast enough. “I’m not going today.”

“What? Saeran, we talked about this! You can’t just skip therapy because you don’t feel like going- hell, the times you don’t want to go are the times you need to the most! You have to be consistent if you want to feel better,” The words are met with silence. Seven lets out a groan. Sometimes, he wishes Saeran would argue or scream or hit rather than just close himself off entirely. Part of him wants nothing more than for Saeran to take out all of the pent up sorrow and rage he’s been bottling up on him. But it doesn’t work like that, and neither does Saeran. The only thing that will make things better is time and effort, and Seven knows that. He has to be patient. “Okay, fine. Did you at least schedule a virtual appointment for today.”

“No.”

Seven frowns and holds his head in his hands. His long, shaky fingers tangle in his hair. The wavy locks are totally fried.

“Okay, did you take your meds?”

“No, now fuck off!”

“Wow, um… Sure, I guess! I’m going out for a bit,” Seven says and clears his throat. He’s embarrassed, uncomfortable, and confused. He’s tried to do everything right, but he can’t make Saeran happy by himself and it’s killing him. “Vanderwood’s here if you need anything, or if you don’t feel comfortable asking him, you can just call me. I love you!”

Seven receives no response. Dejected, he decides he’ll at least try to get out of the house. Maybe seeing Zen will lift his spirits…

Zen is working on a new movie, so Seven goes to see the actor on set whenever it’s time for his lunch break. How he gets in without clearance, none of them need to know. He knocks on the door of Zen’s large dressing room and barges in before he gets an answer. Zen, who is sitting at the vanity doing his makeup, spins around in his chair after nearly jabbing his eye out with an eyeliner pencil to face Seven with a pointed look.

“Zen!” Seven greets excitedly and stands in the doorway.

“Wow, Seven! I didn’t recognize you for a second there, uh,” Zen looks a little guilty, but that doesn’t stop him from saying the following words as he points to Seven’s hair. “Please tell me that’s a wig.”

“No, it’s not! I dyed it, remember?” Seven reminds him, just hoping that he forgot the conversation from the chatroom last night. Though, he suspects that Zen remembers and just hates how it looks. “C’mon, don’t tell me it’s that bad!”

“It’s not bad, per say… Just doesn’t work with your skin tone. I liked the red a lot better.”

At that, Seven sighs and tries to change the subject. So Zen doesn’t like his hair. With such a sudden change, and with Zen being so particular about beauty, it makes sense. So what? Surely, someone else will like it. Despite the awkward feelings of hurt and rejection that swirl around in the pit of his stomach, Seven plasters on a smile and asks Zen about his upcoming role.

That night is LOLOL night with Yoosung. Seven almost forgets that it’s happening until he’s reminded with an ‘omw’ text from Yoosung half an hour before it’s supposed to start. He panics and thinks of just canceling it, citing some fake illness or emergency, but then he remembers that Yoosung is one of the few people who can actually get Saeran out of his room. So, he sends back a simple text saying ‘okay’, sets up snacks and drinks at the coffee table, gets his PC set up in the living room, and shoots Saeran a text to let him know that Yoosung will be there.

Right around eight, Yoosung shows up. Seven answers the door and excitedly greets his good friend while leaning against the doorway.

“Hey, Yoosung, you ready for LOLOL night? I’ve got Honey Buddha chips and PHD Pepper set up at the coffee table and-!”

“Seven, what’d you do to your hair?” Yoosung asks with wide violet eyes as he reaches forward and touches one of the dry, bright white strands.

“I dyed it last night, remember? Pretty snazzy, huh? What do you think?”

“No offense, but it looks pretty weird on you! Can’t say I ever expected you to go white,” Yoosung mutters and walks past Seven and into the living room. Seven shuts and locks the door behind them, then goes with Yoosung to the living room couch. The two men sit together with Yoosung still talking about Seven’s new look as he digs his own laptop out of his school backpack. “You even did your brows! You really gotta give us a warning, man, I thought I was having an aneurysm or something when I saw you with white hair!”

“...Huh,” Seven disguises a frown with a fake smile, nothing new. He expected Zen to dislike his new hair, but Yoosung, too? It makes him anxious. If those two have already reacted so badly (i.e. clearly being taken aback and not liking it, but trying to feign that it’s not terrible even though they clearly think it is), what will Jaehee, Jumin, and Saeran say when they see it? “Well, that aside, have you made any progress on that game event yet?”

“Oh, yeah, that reminds me! I…”

Yoosung opens his laptop to show Seven his progress on the event, excitedly rambling with a grin that Seven can’t help but find endearing- a grin that Saeran would find endearing, too, if he would’ve responded to Seven’s text and surfaced from his room instead of leaving the former agent on read.

Seven opens his laptop as well, and with that, LOLOL night starts- even without Saeran.

Saeran never does surface from his room for LOLOL night, much to Seven’s surprise. He figures that the younger man’s depression must be pretty bad right now, but at the very least, there’s signs that he’s alive (the occasional shuffling noise, leaving Seven’s texts on read, etc.), so Seven is relieved.

Still, he’s worried, and he misses his little brother’s face. With Yoosung’s presence not working to draw Saeran out, and with Seven’s attempts at texting Saeran or visiting his room working to draw Saeran out, he decides he’ll do the next best thing; lure Saeran out with ice cream and coffee. Having not seen the former assistant in a while anyway, Seven goes to Jaehee’s coffee shop.

When Seven opens the front door, a bell rings. Jaehee, whose hair has grown out to her shoulders, rushes to the counter. Though there are plenty of people seated in the cafe who are enjoying their drinks and sweet treats, no one is in line, so Seven approaches the register to talk to her.

“Jaehee, how are ya?” He asks, but he doesn’t get an answer- instead, he gets a comment (or a few) about his newly dyed hair.

“Oh my, Seven… You’ve dyed your hair,” Jaehee reaches out with her perfectly manicured, coffee-brown finger nails. The paint on them is glossy and covered in a light sheen of glitter clear coat. It’s clear that she wants to touch Seven’s hair, but she doesn’t, probably realizing just how impolite it is. Jaehee allows her hands to fall to her side as she continues. “I saw that you’d mentioned it in the chat room the other night, but I honestly thought it was just one of your pranks. Is that permanent dye, or…?”

“It is,” Seven nods. “I guess you’re the only one who hasn’t seen it yet, huh?”

“It’s quite… Different,” Jaehee says with a forced smile, to which Seven gasps and exclaims-

“Oh, come on, Jaehee, don’t tell me you hate it too!”

“No, no, I think you did a good job,” Jaehee frantically rushes to correct herself, even if it’s already too late. It’s obvious that she doesn’t like it, just like Zen and Yoosung. “It’ll just take some getting used to. It works for you, really.”

“...Thanks,” “Can I just get a large caramel frappe, a pint of the homemade vanilla bean ice cream, and a medium iced mocha with a breakfast sandwich to go?”

“Of course,” Jaehee nods, but doesn’t ring anything up. She turns to make the drinks, grab the breakfast sandwich from the warmer, and remove a pint of her homemade ice cream from the small freezer behind the counter. She slides everything forward to Seven with the drinks in a carrier, a smile on her face. “Here you go.”

“How much? You forgot to ring me up.”

Jaehee shakes her head.

“It’s on the house. Tell Saeran and Vanderwood that I said hello.”

“Will do,” Seven grins back and takes the items, ready to head home to his brother and former handler with the treats. “See ya later!”

Upon arriving home, Seven labels the medium iced mocha and the paper wrapper that covers the breakfast sandwich with Vanderwood’s name and a little note so he can put them in the fridge for the older man to have whenever he returns from whatever it is he’s out doing. Next, carries the pint of homemade vanilla bean ice cream and the large caramel frappe along with a spoon to Saeran’s bedroom door.

“Hey, little bro,” Seven knocks. “You holding up okay in there?”

“Don’t call me that… And I’m fine, leave me alone.”

“Saeran… I want you to be happy, but I can’t let you stay in that room forever. I’m starting to get worried about you,” Seven insists as if he isn’t already worried about Saeran when, honestly, he’s worried to death.

“I said to leave me alone!” Saeran yells back.

“Please, Saeran, it’s been days! When’s the last time you’ve eaten? Please, just talk to me… All I want to do is help…” Seven trails off, then sighs. A pit of sadness pools in the bottom of his stomach as tears fill his golden eyes. “Look, you don’t have to come all the way out, and you don’t have to let me in, but I brought you breakfast from Jaehee. I even got you your favorite coffee and something sweet so you’d eat. Just come open the door enough to grab it from me, you don’t have to do anything else. I promise.”

“And you’re not going to drag me out or try to force your way in?”

“Of course not,” Seven relents, as tempting as the idea is. “I want you to trust me.”

“Fine, give me a sec,” Seven hears some shuffling, which is followed by footsteps. The door opens and Saeran is on the other side, matching eyes bloodshot and tired, white and red hair matted, and skin pale. It looks like he’s lost a few pounds, but he’s alive, and he’s okay. Seven expects Saeran to snatch the ice cream and the coffee out of his hands, which does happen, but it’s not immediately followed by Saeran slamming the door shut. Instead, Saeran looks up at him as if he’s grown another head. “...You dyed your hair. Why? Why the fuck did you dye your hair?”

Saeran doesn’t look like he hates it, at least not immediately. He just appears curious. Seven smiles and starts to explain.

“I was getting sick of the red… Makes me look too much like Mom, y’know. It sucks hating what’s in the mirror just because of the past.”

“Okay, but why did you make it the same color as mine?” Saeran asks with narrowed eyes.

“It looked good on you- thought it’d look good on me, too,” Seven explains.

“It looks stupid. You should’ve gone pink or black or something… Would’ve suited you more.”

The words hurt more than they should. It’s just hair dye. Seven likes it, he’s liked it since he did it. But everyone else’s opinions matter to him more than they should, and his feelings are hurt, especially when Saeran slams the door shut in his face with not another word.

“...At this point, I’m not even surprised anymore,” Seven deadpans and turns to walk down the hallway and back to his own bedroom. “Oh well.”

“Seven,” Vanderwood greets lowly. He almost walks right past Seven, at least until he stops in his tracks and stares down at the younger man with a baffled expression. “What the hell is going on with your hair?”

“Don’t even ask, Vanderwood, I’m not in the mood.”

WIth that, Seven storms off to his bedroom, so frustrated with the reactions he’s gotten to his new hair that he decides he’ll just have to cut it all off.

~~~

That night, Jumin stays over. Seven supposes he didn’t think it through very well, but as soon as the older man fell asleep, he finds himself sneaking to the master bathroom. Leaving the door unlocked, he flicks on the lights, plugs in his electric razor, and grabs a pair of hair scissors from the drawer. He’ll have to cut off all the longer parts, then tackle what’s left with the razor. After that, he’ll wear a wig for a few weeks until it grows back red- the only color that looks good on him, apparently.

To his surprise, though, despite Jumin having an incredibly long work day, he wakes up and walks into the bathroom to lean back against the wall. Seven sees him, not because he turns around, but because the ravenette aligns perfectly with the mirror that Seven is currently using as visual aid while he holds the scissors up to the first strand he plans to cut off.

“Saeyoung,” Jumin starts, voice groggy. He’s dressed in his blue and white striped satin pajamas, fully finished with that silly pajama hat that Seven makes fun of every once in a blue moon. His dark eyes are full of sleep and his long arms are crossed over his narrow chest. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Cutting my hair.”

“Why? I thought you trimmed the ends when you dyed it last week.”

“I did.”

“Then why are you cutting it now?”

“Honestly, Jumin, I don’t want to talk about it,” Seven frowns. The thought of how everyone- Zen, Yoosung, Saeran, Vanderwood, and Jaehee- reacted to his new hairstyle, it bothers him. As used as he is to them teasing him for his weird personality and silly jokes, he doesn’t like it when his appearance is judged like this, even if they don’t mean to offend him. “Please just let me shave my hair off in peace.”

“...Saeyoung, put the scissors down for a moment and listen to me,” Jumin sighs, and Seven listens. He sets the hair scissors down on top of the bathroom counter and turns around to face his lover. “I don’t know what inner turmoil you’re going through, and I don’t know what you’re thinking right now. What I do know is you’re stressed, which is probably why you made such a big change in the first place… But I like it. I think you did an excellent job with your hair. Please, don’t cut it off just because everyone else is struggling to get used to it.”

“Jumin, everyone hates it! I’ve had multiple people tell me it looks weird or stupid since I did it, and I know they’re not wrong. At this point, I may as well just chop the shit off and start over.”

“That’s a terrible idea and you know it, because if you cut it off, tomorrow you’re going to be complaining that you’re bald,” Jumin points out, and it’s true. Even if he wears a wig for a while, he’ll hate the way he looks without it; he’s tried shaving his head a handful of times and it never looks proper because of his head shape. “It looks fine, you can’t blame everyone for struggling to adjust to it. After all, we’ve only ever seen you with bright red hair before this- minus the occasional wig. Give it a few more weeks. If you don’t like it after that, you can dye it back to what it was or dye it another color, or even shave your head if you so please. Just don’t go and make a rash decision about your appearance because things haven’t been going well lately.”

“...You’re right,” Seven admits and reaches out to unplug the electric razor. “But you should probably hide the scissors and the razor from me for at least a month. I may get tempted when you’re not here to stop me.”

“Fine. I can do that much after you fall asleep tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Seven moves to push past Jumin and go back to the bedroom to sleep with his sad, ugly white hair, only to get caught by the wrist. He looks over his shoulder and sees Jumin staring down at him with a small smile.

“Saeyoung, wait,” Jumin murmurs and leans down to press a kiss into his hair. Seven’s heart skips a beat at the gesture of affection. “I do mean what I said. You look beautiful. I love the white more than I thought I would when you told me about it over the phone.”

“Thanks, Jumin,”

“Hey, I have an idea,”

“And what would that be?”

“...Got any more of that bleach? Perhaps a makeover for me would distract the RFA from your new look.”

At that, Seven smiles and starts to dig through his bathroom cabinet for the last bottle of bleach.

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onlinekitsune · 2 years

Text

kiss goodnight | s.c

pairing: saeyoung choi + gn!reader

word count: 1263, very short

author’s note: this is my first time actually posting writing like this! i apologize in advance for the possible grammar mistakes and just lack of flow. i am a little bit rusty with writing, but i hope you enjoy! i might edit this or possibly delete it. i am not very confident in it, but i really really wanted to post at least something.

synopsis: somewhat of an au of what if mc didn’t romance anyone until the rfa was back to ‘normal’, celebratory dinner turns into the both of you mutually confessing your feelings

the sound of clattering silverware and various bits and pieces of conversation spilled into your ears. you all decided to have a celebratory dinner for your one year anniversary with the rfa. it was a very eventful year, in ways you never expected, but nonetheless you were grateful. your eyes roamed across the table, seeing jumin and zen bicker probably over something cat related. jaehee was deep in a glass of wine, simply enjoying herself. if anyone deserved to be relaxing, it'd be her. yoosung and saeyoung seemed to be in their own world as well. yoosung's eyes widened as saeyoung deviously began spilling out the most fabricated story anyone has ever heard. but sweet, young, and naïve yoosung was in the spider's web. your eyes focus back on saeyoung, being very enthusiastic about this story. his hair would gently bounce up occasionally while he'd dramatically talk with his hands. it was very charming. he was very charming. with the time you've spent with the rfa, it was hard not to gravitate towards him. "i mean, if you don't believe me... i'm sure you'd believe them. right?" he smirked, nodding his head towards yourself. you gave a small sigh and leaned in towards the two.

"well, he is right." you sighed, "saeyoung would never lie about this, at all. it's pretty serious... for him." you actually had no idea what was even the topic but you had a soft spot continuing saeyoung's chaotic antics.

"wait, really? i thought... i'm sorry i thought that.." yoosung replied, his sentence fading away as you once again get lost in your sea of thoughts containing the messy haired boy in front of you. it was a little difficult to differentiate between your actual feelings or silly tipsy feelings. you push the thoughts away, deciding to deal with that later. you had more important matters to take care of, like tricking yoosung with whatever saeyoung sunk into his brain.

hours had passed and one by one, each of the members decided to leave. the apartment wasn't far so you decided to see everyone off. and soon it was just you and saeyoung. he offered to walk you home, which was more of a demand. he couldn't let you walk alone especially alone and tipsy. which you denied multiple times but he insisted. "thank you, saeyoung." you smiled, walking out of the restaurant.

"for what?" he asked, tilting his head a bit. he reminded you of a puppy sometimes. he'd be so smart and other times there would be nothing in that head of his. you turn your head away from him, hiding the smile forming across your face.

"walking me home, i am pretty much sober now. you didn't have to, but i appreciate the gesture." you uttered, slightly bumping into his shoulder. "i'm glad you decided to come, i was a little worried you wouldn't. i know saeran is still trying to get used to everything.” he nodded, not saying anything. you metaphorically kicked yourself, knowing that it was still a sensitive subject.

“yeah, but thanks for inviting the both of us. i know... it’s a little awkward between us and the rfa a little bit. i really.. uh.. appreciate inviting us both.”

“oh! it’s no worries! ahah, i didn’t want him to feel left out at least. i know it’s hard dealing with... everything. but, i don’t harbor any bad feelings or anything. and i want you both to know that! i would still really like the both of you to continue being and feeling comfortable here.” you beamed. saeyoung gave a soft smile. you two continued walking in silence, a comfortable silence. there was something about him that made even silence the most soothing thing. “saeyoung-”

a sudden boom of thunder interrupted your thought, spilling any thought you had in your brain. you jumped almost falling onto the pavement if it wasn’t for saeyoung. along with the thunder, came the rain. it was instant, leaving no time to pour onto the streets. without any hesitation, saeyoung picked you up to carry you bridal style. you face turns a bright red, still shocked of the quick turn of events. and what seemed like a matter of seconds, you were at the front door. he gently placed you back down and waiting for you to open the door. your hands shook a bit, twisting the key in. you couldn’t tell from what, but it didn’t matter. you walked in to your dark apartment, turning to face saeyoung. he gave a smile before going to walk away.

“you’re just going to leave?” you called out, instantly covering your mouth. you didn’t mean to say that but it just spilled out. “i mean, it’s raining pretty hard... you’d take the chance of ruining your seats without an umbrella. y-you’re free to stay a while... if you want.” your hand drew circles on the back of the door. the nervous shook your core as you awaited a response.

“uh, well, i guess i can stay a bit until the rain stops” he murmured, turning around. he slowly walked in the apartment gazing around the space. you’d admit you got a little carried away redecorating it. it looked different, but it was a good different. a better different from everything that happened here. “it looks... nice. i like it.”

your hands curled up towards your chest, before you shook yourself. what were you doing? what are these feelings? did you sincerely start falling for him? it... wasn’t hard to do. saeyoung had a charm to him. he was sweet, immensely caring, and the funniest guy you’ve ever met.

“hey? you okay?” the voice ran chills down your spine. you looked up to see saeyoung give you a worried smile. “you know, you’ve been acting a little odd, since the dinner. i’m a special agent, i have a knack for spotting these things yanno.” he grinned, lighting the mood a bit. you playfully rolled your eyes and moved in closer. his eyes looked so bright somehow, even in your dimly lit kitchen.

“oh really. if you’re so good at this, then why am i acting so odd? do you.. know?” you whispered, leaning in closer. you could slightly smell perhaps his shampoo? maybe his lotion? it gave a slight apple cider smell, it was cute. saeyoung just raised his eyebrow and slightly bit his lip. you were never this bold but, it just felt so natural. “you’re... too charming. it’s so very distracting, yanno?” you went to grab his hands, they just laid there entangled in yours. saeyoung didn’t move or really react. it was almost as if he was just frozen in time. “it’s hard pretending that they’re not there. uh, these feelings... for you. clearly. i don’t know how long they’ve been there, i think i just realized them now. i know maybe it’s not the right time or... maybe it’s one-sided but...”

just like the thunder, saeyoung pulling you closer to his arms startled you. as you were once again lost in your own world, trying to find the best words to say to him. but maybe there was none. there was no words to truly put out there that was even begin to explain every emotion you felt with him. and it was okay, because sometimes words aren’t enough. he rested his forehead onto yours, pausing for a moment. he tucked a loose hair strand from your face, letting out a soft sigh. along followed five simple words along with a sweet kiss.

“i think i love you.”

#going to use every tag whoops #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger oneshot #mysmes fanfic #mysmes fanfiction #mysmes oneshot #saeyoung choi #707 mystic messenger #707 mysmes #luciel choi #saeyoung x mc #saeyoung choi x mc #saeyoung x reader #saeyoung choi x reader #707 x mc #707 x reader #🌸🍙 ━ mochi's recipebook

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kashwitdabias · 2 years

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I never liked her she was always in the way of me trying to fuck zen😭😭😭

#mystic messenger #mystic messeger headcanon #zen mystic messenger #mc mystic messenger #jaehee mystic messenger #mystic messenger meme #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger fanart #zen #mc #jaehee #mystic messenger yoosung #yoosung fanart #mysme jumin #juminmysticmessenger #707

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jaeheeweek22 · 1 year

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✨☕️ The Jaehee Week 2022 Schedule is Here!

Hello! And, finally, welcome to…. Jaehee Week 2022! ✨💛

A creation event to celebrate Jaehee Kang’s birthday that will take place the least week of December, with every day having a new prompt.

Here is the schedule for this year!

The theme is “A word + a quote.” You can choose to create something based on both, or only one of them, or combine if you wish. The goal here is to inspire creativity!

Here’s a list of the prompts, for your convenience:

day 1 (25/12): mistletoe - “all my heart longs for, fulfill” [Immortal Aphrodite, Sappho]

day 2 (26/12): honey - “I cannot deny myself any longer.” [Una Llum Tímida, Andrea Puig & Africa Alonso Bada]

day 3 (27/12): arabica - “open your life, open your hands.” [I Don’t Want To Live A Small Life, Mary Oliver]

day 4 (28/12): cupcake - “love liberates. It doesn’t bind. Love says I love you.” [Maya Angelou]

day 5 (29/12): film - “the lights go off and that’s when I know you.” [Una Llum Tímida, Andrea Puig & Africa Alonso Bada]

day 6 (30/12): dance - “I bet you could sometimes find all the mysteries of the universe in someone’s hand.” [Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, Benjamin Aliré Saenz]

day 7 (31/12): ring - “under the water, I know of a timeless place.” [Una Llum Tímida, Andrea Puig & Africa Alonso Bada]

Any and all creations are allowed! Whether it’s fanart, fanfiction, graphics… so long as it has Jaehee as the main focus, everything is welcome. Go crazy go wild!

Please, tag your creations with #JaeheeWeek22 as well as the day, so for example, #JHW01, #JHW02.. etc. If you post on ao3, please use this tags too.

You don’t have to submit everything in the day. It’s okay to post a couple days late, this event is just for fun! So, don’t stress about it.

…And that’s everything. If you have any questions, please send an ask, and we’ll be happy to reply.

Hope everyone has fun during this week, and happy early birthday, Jaehee Kang 💛✨

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darling-aries · 11 months

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Taylor Swifts unreleased song Need 100% gives me GE Saeran and Ray vibes.

youtube

Want is the cigarette smoke on a jacket

You wore to the wrong part of town

Desire is the sound of the whiskey

Telling me you miss me, can you come around?

Passion is a passing thing

It's accidental chemistry

Lust is a liar, a short-lived fire

It ain't what you and I are at all

Oh, it's a need, it's a need

I would go anywhere that you lead

I am hopeless, breathless, burning slow

Touch me, hold me, tell me, "I won't let you go"

I won't leave, it's a need

Danger is a thousand prickles on my neck

That tell me to run or to freeze

Fear is the nightmare I had, you were with someone else

You forgot about me

Passion is a passing thing

It's accidental chemistry

Caught up in a feeling, it can be deceiving

This is like breathing for me

Oh, it's a need, it's a need

I would go anywhere that you lead

I am hopeless, breathless, burning slow

Touch me, hold me, tell me, "I won't let you go"

I won't leave, it's a need

Baby, it's always

A new kiss every time we do this

The truth is

It's essential to me

That you love me more than

Wishing, longing

Oh, it's a need (It's a need), it's a need (Ah-ah, ah-ah)

I would go (I would go) anywhere (Anywhere) that you lead (Oh, oh)

I am hopeless, breathless, burning slow (Burning slow)

Touch me, hold me, tell me, "I won't let you go"

I won't leave (I won't leave), it's a need (Oh)

#ge suit saeran #ge saeran x mc #ge saeran x reader #ge saeran #searan choi #se searan #mysticmessenger #mystic mesenger #mysme #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger searan #ray mm #ray mystic messenger #mystic messenger ray #Youtube

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anarchysmut · 1 year

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Twisted Love

Warnings: afab!reader/Rika, implied sub!Rika (very subtle), praising, cunnilingus, marking, body worshipping, position "69"

this is a smutty fic based on V's bad end where mc ends up with Rika, making love to each other. MC is replaced with reader.

Even though it's apparent that in the game the relationship is very unhealthy and based on obsession, i still have to say that i do not condone unhealthy/toxic dynamic in any shape, way or form.

Your lips are on hers, hunger stored inside your chests now unleashed as you kiss your lover. Her silky golden locks brush against your cheeks, tickling the skin.

Rika holds onto your shoulders like her life depends on it, as if you could disappear any second. She breaks the contact, looking deeply in your eyes, her emerald ones filled with lust.

"You're not going to leave me, right? Please, say you won't!" She bites her bottom lip, awaiting your answer. You can see the distant fear in her eyes, body tense.

"Rika, my love, I'm never going to leave you. No matter what, I will stay with you." She visibly relaxes at your reply, satisfied with it.

"Touch me, kiss me... Love me," Rika takes your hands in hers and guides them on her body, placing your palms right on her chest. She shivers as you slide them down to where she needs you the most.

You resume your kiss, pulling Rika on one of your thighs, grabbing her plump ass. She gasps against your lips, grinding down on your leg. You can feel how wet she is, how desperate she is.

You reach your hand down, rubbing slow circles through her lace underwear. Rika digs her nails in your back, overtaken by the pleasure you give her. She lands sloppy kisses on your face, lips, jaw and neck.

"Let's take these off, hm?" She is hypnotized by your whispers, only able to nod in agreement as she lets you lay her down on the bed and pull her underwear off, leaving a black lingerie gown on. She looks absolutely angelic in it.

Rika can feel your hands roam down her thigs, squeezing them ever so slightly. She feels so good, so loved and appreciated. Not the same as when she was with Jihyun, he never was enough for her, you opened her eyes with the unconditional love and devotion to her. Something that aroused her even more.

"You're so beautiful, so perfect. Rika, my Rika. I love you so much, no one will ever love you like i do, especially not him. Let me show you just how much i love you." You kiss her inner thigh, biting down on it. She smells amazing, looks amazing, tastes amazing. Everything about her is ethereal.

Kissing and licking your way up to her vagina, you don't break eye contact with Rika. You spread her inner lips with your thumbs, blowing air on her sex. She can't help but whine at the coldness, it's uncomfortable but not so much that makes her want to stop.

She curls her fingers in your hair, pulling your closer to her pussy. You'd love to tease your lover some more, but she's been good enough to receive her reward. You lick a long stripe from her hole to her clit, enjoying a loud gasp. Her grip on your hair tightens as you continue licking and sucking.

"Ah! [Name], wait. I want you to feel good, too." You smile at her sudden request, before crawling on top of her, your vagina above her face. Rika kisses your skin, leaving hickeys on your thighs. Desperately she pulls you down on her face, circling her tongue around your clitoris.

"Love you, love you, love you..." Rika whispers against your skin frantically, relishing in your scent. It drove her crazy, you drove her crazy. She wanted to be yours, she wanted to have you whole, be as one. She loved you, she loved you with her whole heart.

She finally found her true love, someone she could be herself with. And she wasn't planning on letting you go. Ever.

#mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger rika #mysme rika #mystic messenger smut #mystic messenger fanfiction #mysme smut #mysme fanfic #rika x reader #rika smut

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fartmaster200-blog · 3 months

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Hi!!!!

Welcome to my (mainly) fanfiction blog!

this is super new so i don't have anything out yet but request all you like!

Fandoms i'll write for:

Harry Potter (mainly)

Mystic Messenger

Crush Crush

Obey me

Percy Jackson (and hoo)

Teen Titans

Young Justice

Paul Dano (his characters)

IT (2017-2019 and 1990 so please specify which version of the character you'd like!)

One Piece (i'm really early in tho >_<)

Garfield (i practically mean just fanfics about jon)

Ride the cyclone

Heathers

Little shop of horrors

Type of Fanfiction:

masc and fem reader

stories and headcannons (please specify!)

mainly x readers but i can do ships if people suggest it!

Off limits!:

smut stories (will do hc or suggestive stuff!)

Incest

Pedophelia

Teacher x Student

Abuse

Hurt without comfort

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yoosungisbabie · 7 months

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you're my gift - day two

@juminweek2019

jumin x mc

rating: G

prompt: receiving gifts

warnings: none♡

word count: 3,045

ao3 link

“You are adorable, Jumin,” she said, watching his jaw muscles tighten and his eyes flicker to hers. She was savoring the way he began to blush when he pulled her into another hug, leaning down to embrace her completely. “That title is reserved for you,” he mumbled, almost in a pout, making her heart flip at the uncharacteristic way he’d spoken. “We can share,” she responded, hearing him laugh through his nose quietly.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

She hummed lightly to herself, ambling slowly past the shops as she made her way toward Jumin’s apartment building. She was early; he wouldn’t be home from work for another 20 minutes, so she decided to take her time on her way to see her fiancé.

As she approached the small flower shop on the corner, she wondered why the cozy storefront always made her stop and admire all of the different arrangements. Bending down to smell a gorgeous bouquet of lilies, she smiled and wondered if Jumin would enjoy receiving a bouquet of flowers.

Since the beginning of their engagement, she’d been hesitant about giving Jumin gifts. It wasn’t as if he didn’t already have everything, and all of his clients and business partners often provided unsentimental gifts whenever they held meetings or finalized deals. It felt like a losing game for her to try and one-up any previous gift he’d gotten, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to try.

She glanced around until she found a small, simple bouquet that made her smile. It had a mixture of red and pink roses, daisies, and some gentle, green foliage that made it just intricate enough that she thought it would do.

After purchasing the arrangement and speaking with the shopkeeper about how inviting their storefront was, she continued along the path toward the apartment building. She was thinking it would be a nice change of pace for her to meet Jumin up in the penthouse when he arrived home instead of in the lobby.

She smiled to herself as she rode the elevator up, exchanging a friendly greeting with the chief of Jumin’s security once she’d arrived at the top floor.

“Is there anything you need from us, Miss MC?” he wondered, keeping pace with her as they walked toward the entrance to Jumin’s penthouse.

“Will you make sure he knows I’m already up here when he arrives? I don’t want him to wait for me downstairs,” she smiled, bowing gratefully as he agreed and opened the door for her.

“Thank you,” she grinned, feeling the familiar smell and noise of his apartment settle around her. Elizabeth the 3rd called out to her from Jumin’s room, meeting her at the door excitedly only moments later.

“Hello, lovely!” MC smiled, reaching down to pet her as she slipped her shoes off. She made her way through to the kitchen as the cat followed where she grabbed a simple vase from the cupboard. She prepped the flowers, arranging them nicely and leaving the display visible on his kitchen island.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” she whispered to Elizabeth, receiving a soft meow in reply and chuckling to herself.

“I hope so,” she replied, removing the informational card that came with the flowers from its packaging and leaving a simple ‘I love you’ on the backside.

After only a few more moments, she heard the distant ding of the elevator arriving at the top floor. She headed toward the entryway, turning the corner just as he opened the door and met her eyes in anticipation.

Seeing Jumin soften as soon as he laid his eyes on her was always one of her favorite parts of the day. The slope of his shoulders became less intense, his hands relaxed, and the set of his brow eased up so much that she wondered if it hadn’t been hurting all day.

“Welcome home,” she smiled, rushing over to meet him with a swift kiss and a lingering hug. He pulled her close by the small of her back, exhaling slowly against her and humming a mumbled hello into her ear.

“My last meeting didn’t run over. Was there another strange man in the lobby today?” he wondered, pulling away from her to look her once over. She chuckled, reaching up to loosen his tie slightly and fix a few stray hairs.

“Oh, I can’t meet you up here?” she teased, stepping only a pace away so he could put his briefcase to the side and shrug off his suit jacket. He first replied with a low laugh, lifting an eyebrow at her.

“I’ll admit that I prefer you waiting here in a safe place, but I’m just curious as to why,” he explained, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on her forehead as he awaited her answer.

“I brought a gift home and didn’t want it to be spoiled for you right away,” she smiled, watching his eyes widen ever so slightly and flit around the room.

“A gift? What’s the occasion?” he asked, letting her take his hand and begin to lead him towards the kitchen.

“No occasion,” she shrugged, rubbing a thumb over the backs of his cold fingers. Once they had rounded the corner, she noticed how insignificant the bouquet looked in contrast to his exquisite kitchen and living space. Biting her tongue, she looked up at him, wondering if he would even notice that she’d placed it there.

Instead of looking right past it, she watched as his gaze moved quickly back and forth from her to the gift on the counter.

“You brought me flowers?” he asked, just above a whisper, the question making her stomach tighten even more.

“They made me think of you,” she replied weakly. He reached down to wrap her in a tight hug, making her blink in surprise and hesitate for almost too long in reciprocating his embrace.

“This was an absolutely lovely surprise to come home to,” he murmured into her hair, nearly lifting her off the ground as he pulled her tightly into his chest. She bit back a larger smile, lightly scolding herself for being so insecure.

“Thank you, darling,” he continued, pulling away only enough to kiss her cheek before hugging her tightly again.

“You’re welcome, Jumin. It can only convey a fraction of the love I have for you,” she replied in a whisper, feeling his hands twitch slightly as they splayed out across her back. He didn’t respond, pressing his lips down onto her shoulder for a long moment before finally pulling away.

She was surprised to see the highest point of his cheekbones had slightly reddened, his eyes having a gentle sparkle in them that might have just been from the setting sun across the horizon. He was focused only on her, placing a hand on her cheek and tilting her head up gently.

“I love you,” he said softly, making her heart stutter even though she heard him say it every day, multiple times a day. Placing her hand over his, she leaned into his touch, nodding in complete content.

“I love you, Jumin.”

—

It was only a few weeks later that she decided to get him another gift. They had started having lunch together at his office on a biweekly basis, and it had become such a highlight of her day that she wanted to express that to him somehow.

While exploring the antique shop in the basement of his apartment building one day after work, she came across a picture frame that stuck out to her. While admiring it, she thought of the perfect picture to frame inside it, quickly purchasing it and heading home so she could prepare the gift before their lunch meeting the next day.

“Good afternoon, Jaehee!” MC smiled, walking towards the assistant’s desk the following day and setting down the coffee that she had grabbed on the way. Jaehee smiled, her shoulders loosening as she laughed a little.

“I appreciate you,” she grinned, taking a small sip of the coffee as MC chuckled.

“And I appreciate you, ma’am,” she replied teasingly, knowing that Jaehee felt strange every time MC called her that.

“Enjoy your lunch,” Jaehee chuckled, turning her attention back to her computer screen. MC laughed to herself, walking past her desk and down the hall towards Jumin’s office.

He had begun to leave his door propped open when he knew she was coming, something he would have never done if not for her. She peeked past the door frame, seeing him nearly frowning as he concentrated on his monitor.

“Mr. Han?” she called, altering her voice ever so slightly. His eyebrows twitched downward, his fingers not faltering as he continued to type.

“Not at this moment. I’m waiting for my fiancée,” he replied, almost foregoing a glance in her direction. When he looked up, he immediately sighed in mock annoyance, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Should I have Assistant Kang alert me as soon as you arrive? You are something else, my love,” he teased, immediately standing and smoothing out his slacks as he started towards her.

“Have your phone update you when I arrive at this location if you’d like. It won’t stop me from messing with you,” she replied snarkily, laughing when he narrowed his eyes at her and playfully lunged forward to pull her into his chest. He started to tickle her, pressing multiple kisses to her cheeks as she squirmed. When his hands bumped hers behind her back as she hid her gift from him, he settled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips in greeting and looking at her curiously.

“Did Assistant Kang ask you to bring in a report?” he wondered, leaning forward to look over her shoulder. She pressed the picture frame tightly against her back, holding back a grin.

“No. I brought you something for your desk,” she replied, seeing his expression continue to grow in curiosity.

“My desk?” he repeated softly, stepping back from her so she could present it to him. She pulled it out from behind her back, revealing the picture frame that she had found. It was certainly old, being primarily made of black wood. The frame was outlined in worn, gold trim that had Victorian accents to it, making the whole thing remind her of Jumin. The picture she’d decided to place inside was the photo they’d taken when Jumin had finally convinced her to dress up in a couple’s Halloween costume together last Autumn. It always managed to make him laugh, even just a little.

She watched as his eyes widened and scanned the frame multiple times before he finally looked up at her, grinning briefly before dropping his smile to try and speak.

“It’s–” he started, laughing breathily and shaking his head. “I love this.” She watched him as her heart grew in her chest, her fingertips tingling at the amount of love for him flowing through her veins.

“I’m glad,” she replied softly, letting him take it from her hands and examine it more closely.

“I’ll keep it in my office here,” he nodded, taking her hand in his and leading her over to watch him place it on his desk. “Yes, I think this will be efficient in motivating me when I begin to tire.�� He squeezed her hand in his as he continued to admire it, exhaling happily. She looked up at him, seeing how effortlessly he was able to smile and wondering if he had always been like this when he received gifts.

“That title is reserved for you,” he mumbled, almost in a pout, making her heart flip at the uncharacteristic way he’d spoken.

“We can share,” she responded, hearing him laugh through his nose quietly.

“Thank you for this thoughtful gift. Thank you,” he said softly as she closed her eyes, feeling her emotions bubble up into her throat. She wished she could always make him feel like this. There was so much love for him inside her, and helping to show him even a little bit of it felt like an accomplishment that she could be proud of.

Once she’d realized how meaningful gifts were to him, she put a little more thought into them, waiting for the perfect moment to surprise him with one in particular.

—

After another week of tight schedules, long meetings, and calls that seemed to drag, Jumin was finally finished. He’d been working tirelessly to lock in the biggest deal in years, and all of his efforts had paid off. He’d let everyone in the office go home early, and as he stumbled through the door that night, he felt blessed that his fianceé was already waiting there for him.

“Jumin, congrats!” she exclaimed, having tied up a few silver balloons around the apartment. He smiled tiredly, chuckling as she rushed over to meet him.

“Thank you, my love,” he replied, pressing a swift kiss to her cheek as she stood on her toes to hug him. He reciprocated her embrace, feeling the fuzzy edges of sleep threatening to close in already.

“I’m sure you’re exhausted,” she said, pulling back and taking his jacket for him. He shook his head minutely, smiling at the warmth that constantly emanated from her.

“With you here, I could run a marathon,” he replied, knowing that neither of them believed that. Jumin was more than ready to take time to rest, and he knew that he hadn’t succeeded in hiding how much of a toll the project had been taking on him the last few weeks.

“Okay, strong guy,” she snickered, hanging his jacket up and holding her hand out for him. “I have some wine ready, and I have a little present that I’ve been saving for this occasion.” He blinked down at her, following without complaint.

“You’re much too thoughtful. You didn’t have to go to the trouble,” he said softly, seeing her flash him a feigned look of offense.

“Trouble,” she scoffed, leading him over to the couch to sit down next to her. She handed him a glass of wine, pulling out a large box wrapped in purple and silver foil. Jumin hesitated to continue with the sip of wine he’d been taking, not wanting to stain anything as he moved forward in surprise.

“What kind of present is this?” he wondered aloud, setting the wine down on the coffee table as she giggled quietly next to him. He received the box into his lap, delicately breaking open the wrapping and taking the lid off the box.

Taking out the large, white item, it took his strained eyes just a moment to realize what he was looking at.

“Elizabeth, I think your father needs glasses,” MC muttered under her breath to the cat, glancing back at him as he held the object further away from himself.

“I’m…” Jumin started, trailing off as he struggled to contain the emotions that threatened to spill out.

She had gotten him a pillow of Elizabeth the 3rd’s face. There was no blur; it was a perfect replication of her beauty, and it was unlike any other gift he’d ever even heard of.

“I know it’s cheesy,” she chuckled lightly, looking over to see his eyes sparkling with tears. She blanched, panicking and scooting closer to him.

“I’m sorry, Jumin. Do you hate it?” she wondered, watching as he placed it in his lap and felt at the whiskers that had been placed in the cushion as if they were real.

“Why would you think that? This is the most amazing gift I’ve ever received,” he replied, looking at her in disbelief and awe. She held back a bigger smile, sighing quietly in relief and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You think so? I wondered if you would like to put it on the couch in your office or in the study here at home,” she offered, watching him nod and blink his tears away.

“What an excellent idea. Every time I see this, I will think of my two favorite ladies in this world,” he agreed, moving the pillow back into the box for safekeeping and turning to face her. She grinned, slightly surprised when he pulled her into a hug where they sat.

“I’m sure you’ve had a long day, my love. Would you like me to run you a bath? Is there anything special you’d like to eat? We could even go out if you’d like,” he began, smoothing his hand over her hair as he spoke. She laughed lightly, shaking her head at the outpouring of affection her gift had spurred from him.

“No, I’m alright, Jumin. I’m just here to spend time with you,” she replied with a laugh still in her voice. He hummed, the sound buzzing through her collarbone as he pulled away to meet her eyes. They were filled with such intensity that she didn’t speak before he had a chance to.

“Do you know how much I love you?” he wondered, tracing a gentle finger over her cheek. She felt her heart flutter at his unexpected words, blinking up at him in surprise.

“You tell me every day,” she replied in a whisper, gripping the fabric of his shirt on his forearm that gently held her waist.

“That I do,” he nodded, holding her gaze as their breathing began to slow. “And I know that you love me too. It’s obvious,” he continued, moving forward to kiss the corner of her mouth. She felt her core begin to twist and butterflies begin to swirl, so she cracked a small smile.

“I didn’t realize you liked gifts so much, Jumin,” she said, barely able to speak above a whisper. He pressed another kiss to her cheek, his breath warming her face as he gently laughed.

“Gifts from you,” he clarified, his nose brushing hers as he locked eyes with her once more. She pressed her lips together in anticipation, feeling the heat of his hand against her waist begin to burn.

“You’re my gift.” His eyes looked between both of hers, his eyebrows drawing down ever so slightly before he dove down to bury his face in her neck and pull her into a tight hug once more. He’d lost the ability to form words, feeling like his heart would burst at any moment.

Neither of them let go for a long while, wondering if the other could feel how strongly their hearts were beating with love for each other.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

thank you all for reading! thank you as well for the overwhelming support you gave me on the first entry for this event! seeing reblogs and likes in my notifications is a lovely thing <3

stay tuned, and thank you again!

Mel x

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xelasrecords · 2 months

Text

Secrets and Sacrifices

Han Jumin x Reader

NSFW

Jumin and you make sacrifices for the RFA. You don't know how much more you can take, but Jumin does not plan to let you out of his sight.

Secret Ending AU where the secrets drag on and relationships are more complicated.

TW: depression, self-harm, controlling behaviour

Words: 2.8k

Masterlist Read on AO3

Your friends are laughing around you. The restaurant lighting has dimmed, and the lambent glow from the candle on the table illuminates their happy faces. All of you are tucked into a padded leather sofa in the corner, the live music playing behind you.

You echo their laughter. It's the appropriate response.

Seven is sharing an outrageous tale, and Yoosung is his enraptured audience, constantly nodding and asking follow-up questions. Zen chides him for believing everything Seven says but still laughs along. Beside you, Jaehee reaches over you and sets the empty plates aside in anticipation of Seven's dramatic gestures.

Jumin is impervious to the racket. He swirls his wine and watches the advertising screen outside the window, the billboard flashing bright in the evening. His grey eyes are glazed, unfocused. He's missing V, you're sure. That's all he does, aside from worrying about you. Waits for V to contact him.

Languidly, you lay your head against the cushion. This should be a pleasant dinner, but there's a damper placed on your emotion valve. You've lost the means to conjure the excitement you once felt. The knowledge of missing them is not the same as feeling it.

You look down at the corduroy skirt that has ridden up to your waist, exposing more than half of your thighs. You dig your nails into them. Five seconds and release. Little scythes are imprinted on your skin. There, a feeling. You swipe your fingers through the indents with dull fascination.

Today is one of the rare days when you are cleared to venture outside without compromising security, but showing up here feels like a farce. You're playing puppet to prove that you're fine before being corralled back to Rika’s sterile shoebox apartment.

Jumin and Seven's dutiful little puppet, that's what you are.

When you glance up, you can feel the weight of Jumin's attention on you, intense gaze shifting from your lap to your neutral face.

You don't feel guilty. He will find out anyway.

You drag your skirt down and straighten your posture, the band sitting around your hips again.

"Is everything well?" Across from you, Jumin's smooth baritone voice rises above the peals of laughter and the increasingly loud music.

The chatter halts as your friends turn to you with a concerned expression.

You crack a smile. "I'm all right. Just tired." Jaehee squeezes your hand, and you pat hers with reassurance. The friendship you foster with this little group is built on thin ice, and long cracks have been crawling across the surface. "Let's go back, I have work tomorrow. So do all of you."

Seven's shrewd eyes flash at you before he grins widely at the others. "Except for Yoosung!" He pokes Yoosung's side, which earns him a light punch on his shoulder.

"A wise decision," Jumin says. "Everyone should get some rest."

"Easy for you to say." Zen glares at him. "I don't think I can sleep a wink tonight. My skin is ruined from all my lost beauty sleep." He sighs and turns to Seven. "Is there no progress on V's secret files?"

Seven pouts and shakes his head. "I'm still trying to break through the encryption walls, but Jumin can give me Elly to boost my motivation!"

Zen instantly sneezes and curses while Jaehee hurries to pass him a napkin.

An agent with a lifetime of diversion training. You hold back a scoff.

Jumin, Seven, and you are only shrouding yourselves with more secrets because you are determined to reach the same goal: Don't let harm come to the RFA. Don't share any information unless it's crucial. Not even Jaehee. Not yet. Let them live in the almost idyllic bubble as long as they can.

For a split second, Jumin seems as if he's about to scold Seven for the deliberate mispronunciation of his cat's name, but he shakes his head and calls for the bill instead.

Jumin has changed. You wonder how much he has to pay in unravelling V's secrets. If selling his peace is worth the members' peace. But you know what answer he would give. It has never been a matter of choosing for him. He will always protect the RFA.

He will always protect you.

Along with the others, you file out of the restaurant through its gilded swinging doors. Jumin immediately arranges their transport home and reminds them to inform their arrival in the chatroom. You pretend not to see Seven exchanging a calculating look with Jumin, his mask briefly slipping. You wait for your turn, but it never comes.

You have anticipated that, though.

Jumin places his hand on your lower back, his dark hair in slight disarray from the wind. You shiver. His touch still has the power to hold you together just as it has the strength to pull you apart. "Driver Kim is already on his way. You won't have to wait for long."

You nod and stare out the parking lot. Surveillance disguised as an act of chivalry. Since Seven stopped trusting V's contingency plans and revealed your address to the members, he and Jumin have worked together to keep you safe as you help them clean up the mess V left behind.

A familiar black car pulls up before you, and Jumin holds the backseat door open. You climb in, greeting Driver Kim before giving him your address. Jumin enters after and sits so close beside you that his trousers brush against your bare leg.

You press your thigh against him a little more.

Jumin gently caresses your knee, but there's a frown on his face. "Your address is already saved in my car navigation. Did you forget that?"

You have honestly forgotten. Thoughts slip around you these days. Try as you may to capture them, it's as if you have to squint through a lattice window to make out the memory fragments and piece them together. You get away with it most of the time, the fact that you struggle to pay attention.

But Jumin always pays too close attention to you.

"I remember now." You shrug.

Jumin isn't inclined to drop the matter. "I have picked you up more than once. If there's any problem with your memories, you should get it checked out. I will arrange a doctor's appointment for you."

"You're blowing things out of proportion."

The car starts to move. Driver Kim has polished his pretence of not hearing your conversation. He taps the radio screen, and a soft murmur floats through the small space.

Jumin's hand on your knee tightens into a grip, but not firm enough to hurt. "You have been forgetting a lot of things."

"Not when they're important," you say. "I won't compromise our mission, so lay off me. I can forget things. I'm human." You huff out a tired sigh. "Don't you have more things to worry about?"

His voice is constricted. "Do not presume other matters are more important than you."

"V?"

He draws his hand into his lap. "Both of you are of equal importance."

You stare out the window, yellow street lamps and glass towers sweeping past you. You're going back to a place that makes you want to scratch your skin loose. Your freedom is restricted to the apartment and wherever an RFA member accompanies you.

"I've watched the romantic drama you recommended," Jumin says after a few moments. "You're right, I did like it. It's curious how the man is always there to catch the woman when she falls. The distance and his human speed should've made it impossible."

At another time, you would have smiled at his endearing fascination and proclivity to pick apart a mystery until he understood it inside out. Now you glance at him without emotion. "Dramas operate by their own logic."

Jumin tries for a smile. "Nevertheless, it was sufficient entertainment to unwind after work. I must thank you for that."

"I'm glad it helped."

He shifts his body towards you. "How would you feel if I attempted to catch you when you fell?"

You purse your lips. "I won't fall around you."

"But if you do?"

You try to ponder over it, but it's like trying to break through rough currents that threaten to swallow you. The effort is exhausting. "You might not be fast enough," you say. "You're not armed with magical drama abilities."

"Then being there with you at all times would solve it." There's a hint of finality in Jumin's tone.

Of course.

You rest your head against the window, the glass cold against your temple. "That sounds impractical."

"It is better than watching the people I love lose themselves because they're too stubborn to ask for help."

Your lips tug up in the tiniest smirk. "Interesting. Han Jumin feels more than me. I never thought this day would come."

You glimpse at him, but he doesn't seem offended. How disappointing. You're right at the centre where his emotions are concentrated. You thought that would have included his anger.

"I would say it's concerning," Jumin says. "I know how that emptiness feels. If what you're experiencing is worse than that—"

"You'll force me to get treatment?"

His hands curl into a fist in his lap. "I'm not fond of coercion, but if you pose a danger to yourself, then I will do what I must."

You can't keep the irritation out of your voice. "Of course. Thank you for caring."

"I always care." Jumin's fingers hover near your cheek, and you think he's going to touch you, and you wait for him to—but he drops it to his side.

"And look how it ruins you."

Jumin dips his chin sharply. The shadow in the car obscures his expression, but you can make out the lines of exhaustion in the corner of his eyes. There is only so much he can put up with before it eats at him, always bracing for tragedy to befall everyone around him.

You're not supposed to be on the list of the people he wants to protect.

"Loving you doesn't ruin me. It's the best emotion I have ever felt." He runs his hand up your arm and pauses at the slope of your shoulder. "So let me care for you. Don't go. Don't go as far as V has."

You can't wrap your head around the driving force behind Jumin's obsession for your survival. You don't even care as much. It probably has something to do with how you can see right through him. He's attached to the validation you can offer him. You make him feel like a person. You're the only one who sees him as he is, now he can't let you go.

"V is your closest friend. He'll come back to you eventually."

"He won't," Jumin states flatly. "Rika is all he sees, and his range of vision has pathetically narrowed. You needn't bother with consolations. I know where my place is on his priority list."

Pressure burgeons within you like a fist thrusting into your ribcage and twisting your lungs. You hold on to the sensation, thankful to still be able to feel certain pains for Jumin. You wind your hand around his tie and press your lips somberly against his. He tastes of matured grapes and sweet memories long gone.

You have loved him until it ruined you too.

Jumin hooks his arm around your waist and pushes you against the car door, his other hand moving around the back of your head to soften the blow. His fingers trace down your ear and jaw before tilting your chin up and deepening the kiss.

His hand slides up the back of your thigh and toys with the lining of your panties. You hitch your leg up, allowing him to slide between you as he presses himself harder against you, his breathing harsh against your parted lips.

You can feel his need for you between your legs and you wish to satiate him, but it's as though your limbs and nerves are molten lead. You can burn him up with a single touch and you do it without feeling anything.

You want him, but the desire is cerebral.

Jumin pauses and pulls away when he notices your lack of fervour. He opens his mouth to apologise, but you grab his arms, feeling the lean muscles beneath the suit, and shake your head.

Not your fault.

He searches your face, then nods. This has happened before.

You don't know how you reached this point. You keep losing things that you can't afford to lose and you're tired of it. Your freedom, your fundamental need for Jumin. You don't know how to protect your senses from atrophying.

He smooths down your crumpled hair and blouse, murmuring, "I had expressed my wish not to be consoled, yet you still went against me."

"This is the only time I don't have to obey you."

Jumin stills. "I am not trying to restrict you."

"So if I ask you to stop monitoring my schedule and chaperoning me, either by yourself or someone you personally approve of, would you?"

He brushes your swollen lips with his thumb. "Can you promise me you won't get yourself killed if I decrease the security?"

"I promise." You straighten his tie to align it with the buttons and trail your fingers up his chest.

Jumin seems to consider it before shaking his head and chuckling. "You're a good liar."

You grip the lapels of his suit. "It's not up to me if the hacker decides to attack me."

"But you won't put up a fight either."

You let your hands fall and avert your gaze to the blur of passing cars behind him.

Jumin sighs. "It's only until we dissolve Mint Eye and you are safe from the threats that brought you here. Perhaps you would be happier and less inclined to throw self-preservation to the wind."

You clench your jaw and dig your nails into your thighs. Your life is getting smaller and smaller each day. There will always be another condition from him as your condition gets worse. Jumin will not stop. As long as the fight against Mint Eye goes on, you will always be under his extreme surveillance.

Jumin means well, you know it. You wouldn't have survived this long if he and Seven didn't force you to.

You carve your nails in with all your strength, clawing until they break your skin, but there's no blood. It's always harder when you mean to do it.

You don't want to be fixed all the time. Sometimes you want to shatter into pieces. Sometimes you feel safer when you're small.

"I can't breathe, Jumin," you say, desperation seeping into your voice.

He flicks his eyes down and wraps his hand around your wrists in an instant. "Stop doing that. Stop hurting yourself."

"This?" You laugh. "It's nothing more than you and Seven have been doing to me. I've always been willing to help you two with your plans, however immoral they are. I'd do them myself even without you. But I never gave you permission to track me like a prisoner."

His gaze turns hard. "You wouldn't let me if I asked."

"I'm the unhappiest I've ever been and you don't even care." You try to pull your hands away, but he won't budge. "You don't want me to be happy."

"I deeply apologise. I never mean to cause you pain." His face contorts with guilt. "Please hold on a little longer. It will be over soon. V will provide us with an explanation, and things will return to how they were."

"You're naïve if you think it's that easy. This is not your drama with a fairytale happy ending."

"If I don't harbour hope in everyone's stead, what chance do we have in surviving?" Jumin says, and lets out a ragged breath. "We will get through this catastrophe. You can depend on me if you can't find the strength to go on. Just—stay with me. Do not leave."

You think you should cry. You can feel an emotion bubbling, blistering but never quite reaching its boiling point. It's frustrating. Breaking down under pressure is one of the most human things to do, yet the most you can muster is observational agitation.

Love changes things. He loves you and you're paying the price for it.

You look at him with deadened eyes. "You have never made leaving possible, Jumin."

"Good," Jumin says, his voice terse. He doesn't let go of your wrists.

You sink into your seat, deep into the corner where the lights do not reach. There is a kind of loneliness that has grown into a corporeal shadow inside the cavity of you.

You yearn to make its existence known to someone.

You have no one to tell.

Footnotes:

I couldn't flesh these out due to fic length, but I want to get them out there anyway: 1) Reader isn't in therapy because Jumin and Seven aren't well-versed in mental health and Jumin thinks he's enough to fix her for now. She just doesn't care. 2) Jaehee is excluded from the secret subgroup because reader takes over her role in task execution and more.

I... didn't mean to write a dark Jumin or include canon plot elements. I feel like my fics lately are a "how dark can I make this" challenge. The initial idea was just Jumin being there for a lonely reader and it'd be wholesome and comforting, but it got worse through each draft. It had been satisfying to write.

I'd hoped my first fic with the big cast would be one where everyone's personalities are prominent, but apparently, I had to write it from a depressed reader's POV so everything is warped and muted instead. Maybe next time.

There's a paragraph that I reworked from my now inactive IG writing account c: I guess it's not plagiarism if you're copying yourself?

I like it when my MCs are a lil manipulative xoxo

The header concept is Jumin's obsessive surveillance, shown through the clear box tracking his eyes while the rest is blurred, and the toxic intimacy of how Jumin is the one who yearns more but they're separated by a thin yet impenetrable barrier. I was so happy that this clip fits my vision, with an Asian man at that! It's hard to find good free stock footage of Asians. And tap the GIF for better quality.

#someday i will write a romantic kissing scene but today is not that day #jumin x reader #tw depression #tw self harm #jumin han angst #jumin han smut #mystic messenger fanfiction #jumin han #mystic messenger #mysme #jumin han fic #xela writes

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