Jumin Week 2023 - Day 3: Quality Time @juminweek2019
High-quality time shared between two people highly stupid about their feelings. And for each other.
My x reader comeback after so long! Had a meet cute recently so y'all get a lighthearted crushing stage fic for once :)
Words: 3.9k
Masterlist | Read on AO3
How soon you could come had no correlation to Jumin's expectation of seeing you materialise in his living room. At least, that was what he told himself. His traitorous fingers told a different thing. They had typed out a message asking where you were, if there was any problem with your ride, if you had input the correct address in your map, and if he needed to send out a search party if you didn't reply in the next five minutes, but that, he felt, would be too drastic.
Jumin erased the last part and sent the text. He sighed, fingers drumming on the arm of his white sofa. Contrary to Zen's belief, he was not one to blow things out of proportion. He always did just enough and everything else was simply a precaution.
Perhaps a five-minute grace was not precaution enough. Four minutes. He could wait for four.
The second his doorbell rang, Jumin leapt to his feet. He never considered the distance from the living room to the entrance too far, but now he doubted the interior design of his penthouse. Large spaces allowed him to breathe—until you took it away just by not reneging on your promise to visit. You were someone he had only met a handful of times, always with the other members and never at his own place.
Today was special. Today he decided to ignore his fear of being left behind by his loved ones and let you in.
You could be someone he loved. You could be the one who stayed.
Jumin composed himself and opened the door, and there you were, standing with your hands deep in your pockets, waiting for him.
Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you. Despite being mussed by the wind, your hair fell beautifully around your face like a divine frame that accentuated your features. Your eyes were bright, your smile was wide, and you were wrapped in a coat that must be your favourite. He never saw you without it. He wished he knew more about your fashion sense so he could gift you clothes that you would like. He also wished he was close enough to see himself in your eyes' reflection, but that time would come later. Everything had its order, and patience was a virtue that had been drilled into him since childhood.
"I have been waiting for you," said Jumin, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice. "Did anything happen on your way here? You didn't reply to my text."
"I was rushing." Your smile turned apologetic. "Didn't check my phone, sorry."
Jumin stepped aside to let you in. The fact that your hand could have grazed his had you walked nearer to him did not escape his attention. "No matter. It's all right now that you're here."
Leading you to the white plush sofa where he had waited with perfect calmness, he felt tense and oddly exposed, like he was anticipating a foreboding that might come to pass. He did not feel like Han Jumin. This was an iteration of him that he had not been acquainted with.
"Did I make you wait too long?" you asked.
"No," Jumin said. "You didn't have to hurry. You were not yet late." He hoped the sofa would be good enough for you. He had asked his housekeeper to clean off every speck of dust he could detect, twice over.
You sat down and stared at him with a look that he couldn't discern. "I wanted to be early."
Jumin took a seat beside you, careful to maintain a respectful distance despite his heart's protest. "You possess an excellent sense of time management. We will get along well." Compliments flowed out of him easily when it came to you. If you let him, he would graciously point out your strengths one by one.
But was that disappointment on your face?—though it disappeared before he could probe further. "Yes, I love time and managing stuff." You sighed. "That's why I'm the assigned party coordinator."
Now that you were at the spot where he had cast secret spells to summon you, Jumin wasn't sure what to say. He was desperate to know if you shared his jitters. You were motionless, spine straight and hands clasped on your lap, studiously watching the black television screen. There was nothing save for the blurred reflection of both of you sitting in a similar position. He had been imagining all sorts of exciting conversations with you, but your presence had flung them out of his head. This had never happened before. An MRI scan was in order after you went home.
It was possible that you were growing bored, though your affable expression had not indicated so. But it might not mean anything, for you always seemed pleasant. You were very, very pleasant to look at. It was also possible that he was the only one with an insatiable curiosity towards you. For all he knew, you could be with a partner and merely accepted his invitation to hang out with him as a newly anointed member of the RFA. And you were a member. This was a friendly meet-up, nothing more.
"Tea," said Jumin suddenly. His voice echoed in the silence.
Startled, your head snapped to him. "What?"
"Everyone in my family learns to brew tea," Jumin explained. "The tea leaves in my pantry are directly imported from China, obtained from the only six three-hundred-year-old Wuyi trees in existence. The legend of this tea can be traced back to the age of emperors and dynasties, and it has become extraordinarily rare over time. It has the best quality in the world."
"How did you get it if it's so rare?" You were trying to hold a smile back, but it was not a mocking sneer. There was a certain fondness in it that made him want to let all his guard down and pull you into his arms.
"Auctions," Jumin simply said. "You ought to try it. It will keep you warm." Only then he noticed that you still had your coat on and was promptly filled with horror. "My apologies. I seem to have lost my manners." He outstretched his arm. "Leave your coat with me. It can't have been comfortable sitting in that."
"Shame." You handed it over. "I was planning to take a nap in this."
"Is that how people normally sleep? Or is it a tradition unique to you?" Jumin folded your coat into a perfect half over his forearm. "I'd appreciate it if you could teach me your ways."
"I was joking, Jumin. Should I teach you how to make one?" you said, in a tone so kind that he was taken aback. People tended to laugh at his face or look away politely when he failed to understand a joke.
"There is no need. I already have a handbook for it." Jumin was unable to keep smugness out of his voice. "It includes a list of one hundred jokes that you can make to both family and work colleagues alike. I have made good use of it when I need to break the ice."
"But does it include learning how to take one?"
"Unfortunately, I have yet to encounter a book for it."
You squeezed his shoulder, and the warmth of your touch penetrated all layers of his clothing that he had carefully planned. Navy blue suit, black tie, complete with a beige waistcoat and white striped shirt. Everything was new. "Don't worry," you said. "It just means the joke isn't funny to you. A good joke will make you laugh naturally."
"I see." Jumin fixed his tie. "I promise to laugh at your next joke."
"I said naturally. Honestly, Jumin. Please don't plan for it. You're going to give me performance anxiety."
"Then I look forward to your performance." He smirked, and you groaned. Something about you brought out the childlike side in him that he didn't know was still alive. "If you would wait here for a moment. I shall brew you a cup of tea. It won't be long."
Without waiting for your response, Jumin stood up, hung your coat on the silver coat rack by the hallway, and headed to the kitchen. Something was wrong with him. A smile kept threatening to break out of his face and there was a palpable beating in his throat when it should stay underneath his ribcage and he felt giddy about something. He was sure that this was abnormal. Was he finally living up to Zen's senseless claim that he was a strange creature? Jumin stowed these additional symptoms away for his next doctor's appointment. Forget MRI, he needed a full-body checkup.
Jumin heard a soft padding behind him as he turned on the kettle. Your footsteps were quiet, almost drowned by the gurgling of the boiling water and it reminded him of the elegance of Elizabeth the Third. He'd introduce you to her when she decided to make an appearance. The thought of the two of you getting along put a smile on his face.
"I thought you would've offered me wine before tea. Are you really Jumin?" you teased, peering from behind him. He was scooping oolong tea leaves into the strainer in a precise measurement when his muscles turned rigid. Your chin was nearly perched on his shoulder. He regretted that you didn't.
But Jumin dearly wished he knew either. He paused and looked over at you. Now he could see himself in your mischievous eyes. Now he saw how happy he was. The opportunity came sooner than he was prepared for. His breath hitched. "Would you like some wine instead?" he asked, keeping his gaze steady. "I have a wide variety you can choose from in the cellar."
"Tea is fine," you said. "I'll take anything you give me, really."
"Beware," Jumin said dryly. "You have not known me long. There could be poison in your drink."
It took a second for his joke to register, but when it did, you started to laugh. Jumin was stunned, then relaxed when he realised you were not under any pretences of politeness. He felt as if he got a high score for a competition he had unknowingly participated. He never used to put high importance on winning. As someone who consistently broke his own records, achievements were just another thing that his office and father would hold a customary celebration for.
But you were different. Your laughter was a prize he wanted to win all the time. He liked seeing you in joy, and liked that he was the source of it. It was a high that he never wanted to come down from.
"Did you copy that joke from your handbook?" you asked.
"I came up with it on the spot," said Jumin proudly, and your grin widened.
Your eyes flitted to the only china cup laid out on the marble countertop. "Aren't you making another for yourself?"
Jumin shook his head. "I'm not in the mood for tea."
You lifted a brow. "I am so surprised."
Jumin's forehead furrowed in genuine confusion. "Why would you be?"
You flailed your arms about. "Is tea not your passion?" you said. "You were fired up when you talked about it. That's all you've talked about. If I didn't know you better, I'd think it was your favourite drink in the world."
"I merely wanted to keep you warm, and a cup of tea was the fastest way to do it." Actually, Jumin thought being embraced by him would be faster, but he doubted you would accept his advanced advances. "You're the one who has been on my mind, not tea."
"Not tea," you repeated.
"It's nothing compared to you," Jumin affirmed.
"Oh." You pressed your palm against your cheek. "That's nice. You're nice." You gave a perfunctory sweep at his polished monochromatic penthouse, sparse but efficiently filled with the essential household items. "Your place is also nice."
But you were looking at everywhere but him, and that didn't feel as nice. "You might be the first person calling me nice besides V," Jumin said, deciding to focus on the positive. "And V is exempted as he is my closest friend. I'm not sure how to feel about this, to be honest. I'll have to think about it later."
"Take your time," you said, finally looking at him. "I'm not going anywhere."
Quietly, Jumin poured hot water into the teacup and stirred sugar into the steaming amber liquid, allowing the clinking of the teaspoon to fill the space he couldn't. For all his desire to have his interest in you reciprocated, he could not picture the reality if you did. He wouldn't know what to do with himself. He wanted to invite you into his mind, yet was frightened by the thought of you being repelled after knowing him.
"Careful, it's hot," Jumin warned as you lifted the teacup to your lips. "Tell me, how do you find it? Is it to your taste?"
You took your time sipping the tea. He suspected you did it to keep him on his toes, and had to admit that it was part of your intrigue. Jumin could never guess your next move. Anything he predicted you would prove him wrong in the most delightful way possible.
You looked up from the rim of the cup. "What if I say it isn't?"
A connoisseur in understanding your jest now, Jumin replied, "I shall melt into a puddle and lie on the floor until you give me an honest review."
"I will mop your puddle and wring it out the window."
He looked at you thoughtfully. "I'd say I'm offended, but I heard that committing murder is an expressway to one's heart."
"Sometimes even literally," you agreed.
Jumin's eyes widened. "The double meaning escaped me. You are a genius."
You set your cup down on its saucer with a delicate clink. "But is murder the only way to your heart?"
Jumin forgot the mechanism of speaking. Due to his years of experience with women whom he never spared a glance for, he could detect the act of flirting when he saw one. And you were flirting. With him. He was eighty-nine per cent sure of it. You deemed him worthy to be flirted with. Jumin almost slid down to his knees.
"No." He managed to get a full sentence out. "No," he tried again, "but you don't even have to try. Whatever you're doing, you are doing it well." Two better sentences. Magnificent.
"That's too bad," you said. Jumin noticed that your hand was still wrapped around your cup, steam unfurling on the top of it. You must still be cold. "I've been waiting to hack through your chest with an axe."
Jumin walked towards the heater controller and turned it on. "Is homicide the only thing in your mind?"
"It's more of an ad break from the thoughts of you."
At that, Jumin turned around. You had been thinking about him. He knew how impossible it was to stop thinking about you, and your admission was making him lightheaded. Did you ever dream of him and then scramble for your phone the first thing in the morning just to hear his voice? Did you ever yearn to talk about him to your friends the way he did, except his only friend was doing his habitual disappearance and the loneliness was more profound now that you were his constant excitement but he had no one to tell it to? Did you have anyone you hold dear to your heart? Were you open to considering him as one someday? It was not yet appropriate to be so upfront with his questions, he knew.
But one question should be fine. "How long have you been thinking of me?" Jumin asked.
You leaned against the counter and crossed your legs. "I talk to you every day. So, every day." He wondered if your composure was a facade, the way his was.
Jumin nodded. "We share the same habit. I can't quite recall what I used to think about before you entered our lives."
"Your darling white cat, the cat projects that generate a steady loss for your company, and some new cat-friendly inventions? Jaehee's nightmares, basically."
Jumin chuckled. "You know me well. I must say I'm surprised." It wasn't so bad to be known. He could get used to the feeling. "Assistant Kang doesn't appreciate the finer things in life. It's a pity that Elizabeth the Third is hiding somewhere right now. If you see her, you'll understand why I do all those things for her."
"You love her," you said kindly. "I understand that enough."
Jumin stared at you. You kept saying the right things and he kept falling, falling, falling.
"You've finished your tea," Jumin noted, but not without regret. He dreaded having to let you go.
You studied the empty cup. "Wow, I think I inhaled it. You were right, it was the best tea I've ever tasted. Thank you."
"I hope you will stay longer. Do you have other arrangements for the evening?" Jumin, who had arranged his whole weekend around your visit, calmly inquired.
"I don't," you said, with just as much calmness.
"My collection doesn't stop at drinks," he said. "I have a brand new record player and an array of classic vinyls. You can peruse them if you'd like. A three-star Michelin chef will be flying in to prepare dinner and you can request anything you want, provided that you do it three hours prior. There's also a gym on the second floor, though exercising is probably not the best activity since you don't bring a change of clothes." He paused. "You don't happen to bring one, do you?"
"Jumin, I—no. But I could wear yours if I so desperately need to shower here."
He thought he saw your eyes suspiciously glittered, but it was gone when you blinked. "I don't have clothes that would fit you perfectly." He frowned. "They're all tailored to my body, you see. I'm afraid you wouldn't find much comfort in them. Now, would you like to sit down? I've made you stand for too long." He guided you to the kitchen island, fingers light around your wrist, and pulled out one of the brass bar stools. "Please excuse my bad manners today. Something must have come over me. I don't tend to be like this."
You settled in your seat only to swivel back to meet his towering figure. Your knees nudged his legs, and Jumin was stunned, unmoving. He thought an attraction was supposed to burn him alive, to light him up from the inside. What he felt now was akin to petrification. It crept up on him from the ground he stood and incapacitated his ability to form coherent thoughts.
"Jumin," you enunciated his name with great care. He had never thought his name was beautiful until it lulled out of your mouth. He wanted to brand it into his memory.
"Yes," he said, because it was the only thing his mouth could form.
"Your house sounds like a treat."
"That's because it is. You can entertain yourself here. Whatever you want, I will do my best to provide it for you."
"Other guys could give me those too. There have been some, you know," you confessed, and Jumin was torn between wanting to know more about your past and quelling down the illogical jealousy it spurred. "Gold-dipped bouquets with diamonds, fancy restaurants where they ordered for me without asking about my preferences, jewellery that I wouldn't pick for myself." Your voice was tinted with slight distaste, but it was gone in the next instance. "Do you think I was swayed by them?"
Now Jumin's gaze turned sharp. This was a test, he realised. Your intention was not to compare him to other men, nor was it to flaunt how desired you were. Jumin knew the latter well without needing you to prove it to him. He felt the torrent of his desire all the time. It threatened to wash him ashore and pull him back into the raging sea, never letting him be at peace until he could be certain you wanted him back. So what would you get out of your question? Whatever your goal was, he knew what he was supposed to do. You favoured honesty, just as he did. That was one of the many things he respected about you.
"I doubt you were," Jumin said. "Your affection isn't the kind that could be bought. I may not know you intimately, but I know you would not budge under insensitive bribery, and your tale reeked of one. What they did was foul and not driven by the best intentions. That's not how you, or anyone, should be treated."
Your expression softened as you reached for his hand. "I know you're not trying to impress me with your wealth. I'm sorry if I made you think so. I meant to show you that I'd be here even without you throwing those things at me. You called me just to meet up and I came right away. If I stay back, it's because I want to spend more time with you." You averted your eyes. "Did you have to make me say all that?"
Emboldened by your hold that you hadn't let go, Jumin tilted your chin and you leaned forward by a fraction. "You enjoy my company," he said, assessing your earnest face. He could hear his racing heartbeat in his ears. "But will you stay?"
"You really like an encore to embarrass me," you grumbled. "Didn't you hear what I just said?"
"You phrased it as a hypothesis. I cannot be sure that staying with me is what you want unless you state it clearly," Jumin pressed. Though he was always surrounded by people, no one had ever bothered to stay. Not for long. Not for the person he was.
His fear and desperation must have shown on his face. You let out a small breath and gently squeezed his arm, before trailing your sight to the empty cup waiting on the counter. "I think you should refill my tea," you said slowly. "I need more if we'll talk into the night, won't I?"
The warmth from your hold spread throughout his body and a smile broke through Jumin's face, his uncertainty receding. Someone as beautiful and brilliant as you, a gem rarer than his tea—for those tea leaves could be reproduced but you were one of a kind—wanted him as much as he wanted you. It was the first real smile he wore in a while. "We can switch to something stronger after dinner," Jumin suggested.
"Wine," you guessed. Oh, how he loved that you could read his mind. "I knew it. You always default to wine. Farewell, tea. His affair with you has been short but memorable."
Jumin was all too eager to agree. "Farewell."
Jumin hoped it would be a long, long time before his relationship with you could end. If it would ever end.
The footnotes that I thought would be an occasional extra but they just won't go away:
This fic is inspired by good dates and bad dates and that early crush feeling when you don't quite know the person yet so everything feels exciting and scary.
Don't worry, Jumin's tea rambles didn't deviate from canon. On day 8 he wishes you to learn tea brewing since all his family does it. I thought it'd be fun to highlight his nervousness by making him do something unexpected, especially since he's the type who would randomly do something out of pocket while still maintaining his gravitas.
The tea's legend is based on Da Hong Pao, a very rare, government-protected Chinese tea that you can only get if the president honours you some and from auctions. I didn't think I'd research that deep for accuracy for a mere fic but what am I if not committed.
The header is made to seem like a cheeky ad in the spirit of Jumin's tea endorsement. Contemporary fun with a touch of antiquity is what I was going for to capture the fic's mood and Jumin's preference. The challenge was to make a dynamic animation without looking flat or too complicated but still fit the time, format and size constraints. People still need to be able to immediately read the text, which means no over-the-top entrances and transitions. Truthfully, I die a little bit inside whenever I have to sacrifice aesthetics for function but it is what it is!
welcome to Jumin Week 2023! I know I've been gone for a long time, but this event always manages to bring me back. I hope you all are doing well, and I hope you enjoy all the works that will be shared during this wonderful week!
@juminweek2019
jumin x mc
rating: T - for teen and up audiences
prompt: free day!
warnings: female pronouns used for mc/reader ♡
word count: 3,266
ao3 link
“I just got out of the shower,” she finally said, making Jumin falter even further. His mind stuttered, multiple questions surfacing as he blinked quickly.
“What does that have to do with this?” he wondered aloud, unable to stop himself before he could even think through his own question.
She sputtered out a tense laugh, the noise tickling his senses even though he was on high alert.
“Jumin, I’m na— I’m not…clothed? Gosh,” she sighed, and Jumin blinked quickly, shaking his head to clear his mind. Of course that was what she meant.
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
Jumin slowly twisted his pen closed, placing it back in the pen cup next to his monitor. He let his eyes scan over his paperwork and the correspondence pulled up on his computer, assessing whether or not he could consider his task done.
Just as he decided he was satisfied with the outcome, his phone began to vibrate violently in his pocket. It was rare that clients or business partners dialed his personal phone during working hours, so he reached into his suit’s inner pocket out of curiosity.
Flipping it over in his hand, he felt his eyebrows raise at the caller ID. His fingers twitched, and he hesitated for a brief moment before he accepted the call.
“Hello, MC. I’m at my office, but I have a moment to take your call,” he said, unable to help the small smile that began to spread across his lips.
“Hi, Jumin,” she sighed, sounding less than pleased. His anticipation to hear her voice chilled into concern, his posture tightening minutely.
“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, disregarding any questions in his mind about why he felt so panicked.
“Oh, nothing!” she replied quickly, pausing and letting out another breath. “I just, um…” She pulled the phone away from her face to clear her throat.
“I need help with…something,” she spoke slowly, sounding very unsure. The whole situation had him unsettled, and he immediately stood from his chair, placing a steadying hand on his desk.
“What is it?” he wondered sternly, running through a mental checklist of personnel he trusted.
“I forgot something in my apartment, and I…can’t get it,” she continued, her voice strained.
“Are you injured? You sound like you are in pain,” he said worriedly, pressing his lips together as his mind raced.
“No, I’m fine, but um,” she clarified, calming him only slightly. “I forgot my towel.”
“No problem. I can send someone over immediately,” he said, pushing his chair aside and beginning towards his office door. “What instructions would you like me to give them?”
“No, you don’t have to— I mean,” she started, taking a deep breath. Jumin hesitated where he stood, waiting for her to continue.
“I just got out of the shower,” she finally said, making Jumin falter even further. His mind stuttered, multiple questions surfacing as he blinked quickly.
“What does that have to do with this?” he wondered aloud, unable to stop himself before he could even think through his own question.
She sputtered out a tense laugh, the noise tickling his senses even though he was on high alert.
“Jumin, I’m na— I’m not…clothed? Gosh,” she sighed, and Jumin blinked quickly, shaking his head to clear his mind. Of course that was what she meant.
“And you’re in a first-floor apartment,” he continued quietly, pushing his hair from his forehead. He tried to ignore the way his cheeks had warmed or the distracting route his mind was taking.
“Right, and I just need someone to grab my towel or even some clothes,” she sighed, sounding relieved that someone finally understood her predicament.
“Please send me your address. I will be there within 15 minutes,” he said decidedly, buttoning his jacket closed with one hand and pulling open his office door.
“What? Jumin, you don’t personally have to come, I just thought—“
“Nonsense. There are little to no staff members I would trust with this task,” he said as if his assistance was the only solution to her problem. In actuality, there were many more solutions that didn’t interrupt his workday, and he knew it.
“I suppose,” she relented, and he exhaled with finality, motioning to Jaehee as he strode past her.
“Okay, um. My towel! It’s in the laundry basket on the couch in the living room. I think,” MC said, and he made a mental note as he stepped into the elevator.
“And is your apartment door unlocked?” he wondered, hoping that her unprecedented entrance into the RFA had taught her even a little about prioritizing her safety.
“Oh. No…” she muttered, and he couldn’t hold back a crooked smile. Imagining her befuddled face brought only one word to mind. Cute.
“I’ll call a locksmith to meet me at your apartment,” he smiled, hearing her inhale quickly just before he pulled his phone away from his ear to multitask.
“No, it’s okay! I have a hidden key,” she provided, making his eyebrows furrow.
“I would suggest that you remove that in the future, but surprisingly, it will solve some of our problems today,” he said after a moment of thought. Unexpectedly, she cursed quietly, making Jumin pause as the elevator doors opened.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she sighed. Jumin placed a hand against the door of the elevator, holding it open for a moment longer while he listened.
“Why?” he wondered, glancing around the parking garage until he watched Driver Kim pull forward to where he stood.
“I did something as dumb as forgetting my towel, and you’re going through all of this just to help,” she muttered. He could hear the way her lips were pouted through the phone, and it made him all the more anxious to render aid and arrive to her quickly.
“Humans can be very forgetful,” he offered, pulling open the car door and sliding in smoothly. He pulled his phone away from his face to put it on speaker, copying her address from their private message thread and forwarding it to Driver Kim. Putting his phone back up to his ear, he continued.
“I once forgot a client's date of birth during a business meeting and could have made them extremely uncomfortable,” he began, pulling his seatbelt over his lap and buckling it as the car pulled away.
“Luckily, I remembered not a moment too soon that they were born on August the 7th, and I redeemed myself. Not that they knew I had forgotten,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he heard her begin to laugh.
“I didn’t realize I was being funny,” he said, more to himself than to her. She caught her breath, giggling once more before responding.
“Thank you for cheering me up, Jumin,” she said warmly, making him reevaluate what he had said to her. Was that what he’d done?
“I’ll let you go now, but please arrive safely,” she said before he could reply, and he cleared his throat, nodding to himself.
“I will,” he agreed, hearing her hum in contentment.
“And thank you, again,” she breathed, chuckling lightly. He hesitated, fighting the inclination to answer her gratitude with dismissal, wanting to say that it was nothing. It started a strange sensation in his chest as he realized it wasn’t that he didn’t mind helping, but that he wanted to.
“I’ll be there soon,” was all he could say in reply, slightly disappointed in himself when he hung up instead of waiting for her to say her final goodbye.
The car ride there was all too short and much too long as he drowned in his own thoughts. Was he the first person she had called? Did this kind of thing happen often? What other things was she forgetful about? Who else would she have reached out to if he were unavailable?
Once they arrived and he stepped foot outside of his vehicle, Jumin tried to keep his thoughts clinical, focusing on the task at hand and not the way it was making him feel.
He entered the lobby with one of his security guards, glancing at the attendants behind the desk briefly and nodding. They gaped at him in silence as he walked to the elevator.
Once they arrived on her floor, Jumin instructed his guard to wait for him by the elevator doors. He then felt his heart begin to beat in a way he wasn’t quite familiar with. It only persisted as he approached her apartment, his chest feeling tight and warm in an almost uncomfortable way.
He double-checked the number on the door just above the peephole, pausing when he realized that she hadn’t told him where her hidden key was. Scanning the area, he hesitantly reached to feel along the top of the doorway and tapped lightly on the dusty surface until he bumped the key with his fingers. Pulling it down to eyesight, he frowned, wondering why she would put herself in danger in such a way.
He knocked thrice, pausing briefly before pushing the key into the lock and turning it until it clicked. Pressing his lips together in anticipation, he slowly opened the door.
“Please excuse me,” he spoke softly, stepping inside and taking the key from the lock. He closed the door behind himself, looking around quickly.
Her apartment wasn’t very large, but it was decorated in a way that confirmed without a doubt that she indeed lived there. It felt refreshing, with colors that reminded him of her and open spaces, and he could see little touches that were undoubtedly hers. He felt some of the tension in his chest fade, placing the key down on the table near the door and thinking of all the security measures he would like to talk with her about.
Looking down, he instinctively began taking his shoes off. Once he had, he glanced around for a pair of extra slippers for him to use, finding only a small pair of pink, flowery ones. He slipped them on, feeling the back ends hit his heels and wondering if he should just continue in his socks. Feeling strangely apprehensive, he stepped further into her apartment in her slippers, reminding himself of the task at hand.
“MC?” he called out, scanning the apartment to find where she could be. He noticed a closed door as he stepped through to her living area, nearly bumping into the back of her couch. Remembering her instructions, he looked down to see a basket overflowing with clean laundry sitting on the couch. He paused, seeing undergarments in the basket as well as towels and clothes. As carefully as he could, he picked out a blue towel, managing to lift it from the basket without disturbing anything else.
He folded the bath towel over his arm, glancing back to the door where he thought he was hearing movement from.
“MC? It’s Jumin,” he said, wondering why his jaw felt stiff.
“Jumin?” she called out from behind the door, making his eyes widen. He forced himself to take another step forward, clearing his throat.
“Yes, it’s me,” he replied, stopping a few paces from the door.
“Thank goodness,” he heard her sigh. His relief quickly turned into gripping tension when the doorknob began to turn. His eyes widened briefly before he shut them tight, turning his head and making sure he still had the towel.
“I have your towel here,” he spoke, his voice coming out strained. He heard the door open, feeling the humidity from the shower rush out to meet him.
“Thank you so much, Jumin,” she said, a smile of relief evident in her voice. He couldn’t reply just yet, taking the towel and handing it out toward her voice. When he extended his arm fully, his hand bumped hers, making his eyes fly open before he could even think.
Luckily, it was only her forearm that was extended past the door. She felt around blindly until she found the towel, his hand lingering in the empty air as he watched her close the door.
“I really appreciate it,” she reiterated, her voice muffled. “I can’t thank you enough, really. I feel so bad that you came all the way here.” He composed himself again, picking a small, blue string from his sleeve with shaky hands.
“It’s no bother at all,” he said loudly enough for her to hear. “Is there anything else you need while I’m here?” he found himself asking, his hands tensing at the thought of making her uncomfortable or overstaying his welcome.
“Oh no, not at all,” she answered quickly, her voice moving farther from the door.
“Alright, then I’ll be on my way,” he said, sparing another glance at the door before starting towards the exit.
“Jumin!” she called, startling him. He rushed back over to the door, his hand lingering just above the metal of the doorknob.
“Yes? What is it?” he pressed, resting his other hand against the wood of the door.
“Do you have time to stay?” she wondered, surprising him so fully that he was silent for a moment.
“Stay?” was all he could get out, his mind racing much too quickly.
“I haven’t seen you since the party, so if you would give me just a minute to get dressed?” she asked, making his eyebrows furrow together. She just wanted to see him?
“O-of course,” he nodded, backing away from the door just a bit.
“Unless you’re busy?” she prompted.
“I have time,” he responded quickly, feeling his thoughts bouncing around uncontrollably.
“Okay! Please make yourself at home,” she said, her smile present in his mind as she spoke.
Jumin stepped fully away from the door, ignoring the way his phone began to buzz more and more often in his pocket.
He took another look around, glancing at the large windows that looked out over the courtyard of the apartment complex. After a moment, he reached up and pulled just the sheer curtains closed, hoping that would make her feel more at ease.
He was drawn towards her television that was mounted on the wall, seeing a plethora of framed pictures on the console beneath it. Scanning each one, he stopped when he landed on the group photo of the RFA that had been taken at the party. It had taken a few minutes to get everyone in one place and to get a picture that everyone was satisfied with, but the picture she had framed was not the final picture they had all decided on. Instead, she had chosen one where everyone was bickering about where to stand, how to pose, and what Luciel should and shouldn’t be doing. He hadn’t gotten to look through all of the photos taken that day, but this still in particular felt like something he needed to have for himself. In the photo, he noticed that his gaze was focused on MC completely, and the expression he was wearing was not one he believed he’d ever seen on himself.
The door opening behind him startled him out of his thoughts, making him jump and turn to look. He turned back around just as quickly, seeing MC begin to step out in just her towel. His hands trembled slightly, the tips of his ears feeling all too warm.
“Nearly done, sorry! Just grabbing some clothes,” she explained, the soft sound of her feet against the wood floor disappearing down the hall towards what he guessed was her room. He was glad he hadn’t wandered in that direction.
Opening his eyes slowly, he focused his thoughts on the photo in front of him once more. Although the party had been less mundane than in the past, the only thing that got him through was seeing MC flourish in that party hall. Apart from looking stunning, she was kind, friendly, and wildly charismatic that night. It was a miracle in motion for Jumin, and it was truly a shame that they hadn’t seen each other since that night.
He turned away from the photo, hoping to distance himself from the surge of emotion that was building in his core that he couldn’t name. She stepped out of her room just then, looking excited to see him as she lit up with a beautiful smile.
The wave of emotion he’d tried to elude washed over him almost painfully, freezing his muscles in place. He was unable to stop the thoughts rushing through his mind, pressing his lips together as he mentally formed a very concerning one.
Is this what love feels like?
He didn’t know what romantic love meant, he only knew that he had decided never to engage in it. Whatever was happening to him right then didn’t feel wrong, but he also couldn’t quite put a label on it. He just knew that he wanted to keep seeing her, no matter what it meant.
“It’s so good to see you again,” she grinned, moving quickly towards him as he tried to regain control of himself. He felt his lips pull back into a smile, his shoulders relaxing and his hands losing their fists.
“Likewise,” he breathed out, watching her blink at him with wide eyes.
“I don’t mean to keep you long, I just…” she started, dropping her smile and then immediately turning her lips upward into another one, almost as if she too couldn’t help herself. “I wanted to see you,” she finished quietly, completely unaware of the way her small admittance made his heart stutter in his chest.
“Anytime,” he nodded without hesitation, watching her meet his eyes in confusion.
“I know how busy you are,” she said, raising her eyebrows for him to agree.
“Anytime. Really,” he repeated, thinking to himself that no matter the issue, he would drop anything if she was the one who was calling. He watched as she pulled her eyes from his and met them again multiple times, her smile growing timid. He blinked, taking his eyes from her and wondering if he was making her uncomfortable.
“Thank you, again,” she said to break the silence, bowing to him and making him frown.
“There’s no need for that,” he said quickly, taking a step forward and drawing her attention down to the ill-fitting slippers on his feet. She grinned, straightening up again and softening at him.
“You’re very kind, Jumin. I admire that about you,” she continued. He felt himself reaching to adjust his cufflinks, signaling to himself that he needed a change of scenery or he would more than likely do something he would regret.
“MC,” was all that left his lips, making her smile falter and the air grow thick around them.
“Well, I shouldn’t keep you. Please get back safely,” she smiled, wringing her hands together. He nodded, breaking eye contact with her and turning himself towards the door.
“I hope to see you again soon,” he said, seeing her shoulders move towards her ears from the corner of his vision. “I have many topics I’d like to discuss with you. Such as security,” he continued, trying to shift his mind away from the precarious edge at which he’d found himself.
“Security?” she repeated, watching him bend down to place her slippers back where he had found them. Stepping into his shoes, he hummed in agreement.
“You never told me where your key was,” he continued, raising an eyebrow at her and watching as her lips tightened in chagrin. Before a moment had passed, her expression broke into laughter, making another effortless smile stretch onto his lips.
“I’ll be more careful,” she chuckled, taking the key from the table and turning it over in her hands. He nodded, feeling his sternum buzz at the thought of returning to her apartment in the future.
“I’m counting on it,” he said softly, bowing slightly before he opened the door and stepped through. She let it close behind him, not saying another word.
Jumin couldn’t help but linger by her door, his back to it as he convinced himself to keep moving. Once he finally found it in himself to do so, he started back towards the elevator and pulled his phone out, checking his calendar for his next available free day.
~~~~~
hello! thank you all so much for reading!! I have been absolutely not on tumblr at all, but like I said, I can't stay away from Jumin Week <3 if you enjoyed this, please consider liking and reblogging! it really means a lot to me, especially if you leave a note in the notes or in your tags!
again, thank you so much, and I hope you all have a great day!
✦ Jumin x Reader (but mostly a Jumin introspective)
✦ Words: 663
What gifts do you get for one of the richest people in the country?
It's a common sentiment that gets voiced around Jumin's birthday every year and has been one that he has heard since he was a child. He has everything, has enough money to buy up anything he may wish for. What is there left to gift him?
Despite what many people may think (and sometimes say out loud), Jumin has a great appreciation for the thought and effort that goes into the gifts he receives. In fact, he can remember every gift he has every received since he was a child. Every toy, every drawing he traded with Jihyun when they were children, even tokens business partners have brought him over the years.
There are a few, though, that he remembers quite fondly.
There is, of course, Elizabeth the Third. There are no words for how happy she makes him in his daily life, and not a day goes by where he isn't grateful to V for introducing them. It is no exaggeration for him to say that her companionship has changed his life for the better.
It shouldn't come as a surprise that V is, in fact, very good at getting Jumin gifts. There was that year when he managed to source a book on the mystical arts on one of his travels, a rare copy Jumin had only heard of and, (despite Jaehee's best efforts) never managed to find himself. They had spent that evening going through it together, Jihyun joking about all the spells that would be coming from the penthouse after that.
There were the collection of childhood pictures that Jihyun had found in an old box in his house that he put into an album for Jumin. It still sits on his bookshelf, and when he’s feeling sentimental, he likes to take it out and go through it. He also likes to keep it around as evidence for the memories that V sometimes forgets. They always seem to be in his favour.
He had come to not expect much as far as his family and gifting goes. His mother has long since stopped sending him gifts on holidays, but his father had a way of gifting him things that carried more symbolic weight than sentimental value that Jumin had come to appreciate. Many of those gifts sit in his office at C&R, memories of all he has achieved and reminders of all that is expected of him. Latest in that collection is the crystal pen, the one meant to be used when signing contracts.
As for the members of the RFA, they often seemed at a loss for what to get him. Funnily enough, for all of Seven's incomprehensible messaging and his concerning fixation on his cat, he has often managed to surprise Jumin with gifts that he enjoyed. The little clock with cat ears that sits on the desk at Jumin’s home office is just the first in a series of little creations that Seven has made him. Interestingly, most are cat themed, which is only an added benefit.
But you, by far, had become his favourite person to receive gifts from. Your presence in his life has surely been the greatest gift life could have given him. Each object had a personal touch that he valued far beyond anything he could receive otherwise.
Often times, his favourites end up being the things that remind him of you throughout his daily life, like the cufflinks that have your initials engraved on the edge, or the tie you had recently bought while out shopping because it reminded you of him. Even the smaller gifts were enough to make his day, like the time you brought him flowers to the office just to see him smile.
Sure, he could have anything, but what Jumin really wants from his loved ones is a reminder that they care for him, be it through big gifts or small ones.
Happy birthday to Jumin!! I think I’ll love him forever <3
I’ve never done Jumin Week or anything like that before and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to write for the prompts. I feel like for anything I’ve written I’ve been possessed and my hands just type lol
~~~
It was his first business trip since the two of you were married. He had wished that you could accompany him, but had fought against his selfishness. He wouldn’t be gone for long and you had your own work to focus on. He knew that if he had asked it of you, you wouldn’t have hesitated to go. You were always so kind and understanding. He wouldn't take advantage of it. He wanted you to be selfish.
So he found himself reluctantly kissing you goodbye, lingering - stalling - and forcing himself to let go of your hand.
He hadn’t fully realized just how quickly he had become used to your presence - how he had come to depend upon it. Soft and quiet but spreading warmth throughout the penthouse, filling every room and every fiber of his being with a sense of comfort.
The shock of your absence struck him there in the hotel room, a wave of ice-cold water crashing over him that left him gasping for air. There in the elegant suite, with large windows revealing the stunning scenery of an unfamiliar city, the silence and solitude could convince him that what he had left behind was all a dream. That someone like you had found him, had seen right through his cold exterior, and loved him despite the tangled mess within his heart. It seemed too good to be true. Perhaps he was waking up from a dream crafted out of his delusions and desire.
Catching his reflection in the window, fear filled his mind that he would see that he was once again just a man in a suit. But to his surprise, he didn’t.
Instead, he noticed the tie that you had picked out for him that morning and remembered how you had straightened it for him before he left. It was a routine that brought heat to his cheeks and a warmth that filled his chest everytime you did it.
His eyes followed his hand reaching out to his ring, a new habit he had developed since the day you placed it on his finger. Knowing that you were wearing a matching one reminded him of the promises you made to each other.
And when his phone rang and your name lit up the screen, his mouth curved automatically into a smile that he wore almost constantly when you were near. A smile that meets his eyes, one that he has no control over.
You hadn’t made him human, but reminded him that he was.
5 October 2023—VENUS FLY TRAP
Jumin Week--Free Day
Jumin ran a hand through his dark hair, grey eyes flashing like a midnight storm.
“All right then, let’s try this again shall we?” he said irritably.
“I don’t know what the hell you want from me.”
“I want to know where you came from! How…just how are you talking?”
The large Venus Fly Trap simply hung its head and shrugged its leaves. “How am I supposed to fucking know? You’re the one with the big brain, figure it out.”
Jumin gritted his teeth. They’d been at it all night, ever since the last evening when this one plant had begun to grow unexpectedly until it was almost as tall as he was. It had startled him and he’d fell backwards, hitting his head on one of the pots, knocking himself out. When he’d come to, the plant hovered over him and he could swear it had been trying to figure out how to best eat him.
“Do you have to be so vulgar?” he asked.
“I don’t know, do you have to be so fucking stupid?”
“I’ve had enough.” Jumin’s shoulders dropped and he turned to take a long drink from his wine.
“Oh yes, because getting drunk always helps with making decisions.”
“And how exactly would you know what drinking does? You’re less than a day old.” Jumin spat.
“Maybe, but at least I know enough not to dull my wits.”
“What wits? You don’t even have a brain.”
“Are you sure about that? How else can I talk?”
“Then maybe I should check?” Jumin smirked.
“As if! You wouldn’t fucking dare!”
“Oh wouldn’t I? I know you’d eat me given the chance. Given that, I’d think you’d want me to get drunk. I won’t give you the satisfaction.”
The plant shrugged its leaves but said nothing.
“Was it something that I accidentally fed you? No, I’m very meticulous. Maybe there’s something in the water supply, hmm, that could be it, but then, why only you?” he mumbled to himself, thick strands of hair stuck out in every direction, frustration clearly written across his face.
“You know what, go ahead and drink yourself silly, the fermentation will season you up nicely. After all, we both know how this is going to end.” If it could, the Venus fly trap would smirk.
With a sigh Jumin rolled his eyes. There really was only one way this could end, with one of them dead. And it wasn’t going to be him.
As per your voting Jumin Week will last for six days, starting with Jumin's Birthday the 5 of October and remember that you can participate with about anything (fanfics, fanarts, moodboards, playlists, pancakes?) Lol the sky is the limit! (you can also combine them with other events 😉), just make the prompts your own and have fun! 😺💜
When posting your works during this week, remember to tag your works with:
#juminweek2023 | #jujuw23
#jumin week 2023
#jujuw23d1, jujuw23d2, jujuw23d3, etc. (These are your daily tags to let us know which day prompts you're submitting)
These tags will help with finding your works to reblog (and if you don't see your post rebloged here you can always @us)
Have fun everyone! It's loving Jumin days! (again 💜)
