Jumin would have not have so much as considered before meeting you that he could even potentially be touch deprived. The idea of craving touch simply didn’t make sense, anyway — too much of the touch he had experienced before was uncomfortable and unwanted. A grip like a vice around his wrist to drag him to a basement. Women trying to make advances on him since he was too young to even grasp it properly. Drunk business partners’ arms haphazardly thrown over his shoulders at corporate parties, as if they’re friends.
It practically goes without saying that when a man of almost thirty has never even been hugged properly he tends to miss the mark on physical touch altogether. And it didn’t bother Jumin, not being touched. He didn’t want to touch others just as much as he’d rather they didn’t touch him; he felt no need to instigate it outside of situations where good manners called for it. Frankly, he couldn’t even begin to enlighten someone on how to initiate human contact in a way that doesn’t feel awkward or misplaced, nor did he care to find out.
But like with every other aspect of his meticulously planned daily life, you completely threw a spanner in the works. Before he knew it you were holding his heart in your clutches — simultaneously so ruthless and so gentle. Like a glass so full that the surface tension is at risk of breaking, one tiny movement held the ability to send him spiralling (in the best way, he’d tell you).
Even still, in the very beginning he didn’t touch you much outside of what he had predetermined to be expected for a relationship. Him wanting to kiss you had been a given from the day you met in person; a craving to taste you, to leave you breathless. Yet, lingering hands and cradling arms were not something that came naturally to him. Efficiency and independence had always stood at the forefront of his life, and his logical side subconsciously assumed the stance that touching for the sake of touching merely added time and introduced complicating variables.
You had opted to stay mostly on equal footing when it came to physical contact. He was walking on unknown territory and it was only expected that it’d take time for him to find his way; if he wasn’t touchy you wouldn’t push the boundary of touch. Still, sometimes you’d fall into resting your head against his shoulder or holding onto him just to hold onto him.
Your contact was never unwelcome, he found.
In fact, with passing time it almost became too infrequent. And with the lack of your warmth (just to be warm) came an urge—a longing—that took Jumin some time to be able to place. To be touched. To relive the memories of you, or your hands, or your lips, pressed against him.
So it started with subtleties. A test. He’d purposely brush your fingers together when you passed him something. Reach for something you were reaching for just for the chance to feel your skin against his when it wasn’t necessary. Nonchalantly slide his palm into yours when you sat close to him or he, himself, sat too close to you.
One day, his left hand in yours and a cup of still-too-hot tea in the other, Jumin tells you, “I have a proposal.”
“Another? So soon? I already said yes,” you tease.
He chuckles. “Indeed. This is not a second request for your hand in marriage, though I guarantee that I would be overjoyed to marry you ten times over. Rather, I was curious if you’d be so kind as to assist me in something.”
“Anything,” you tell him. “Though it’s nothing nefarious, I hope?”
His brows furrow slightly and he looks to where your hands are locked together. “You do not take me for a criminal, do you? In that case, it’s rather irresponsible that you should stay so contentedly in my company, let alone accept my request regardless.”
A smile breaks your feigned seriousness. “I know you’re a good man, Jumin.” The concern fades away from his eyes as he looks back to you and fondly shakes his head. “But hypothetically, I never said I wouldn’t help you commit crimes,” you add.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says through an amused exhale.
“Good. Then tell me, what’s my assistance needed for?”
“An experiment.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“Then allow me to explain,” Jumin says. “I have deduced over the last several weeks of us spending time together that I find my desire to touch you, to be touched by you, increasing substantially.”
“In what sense?”
He raises an eyebrow and a smile threatens the corners of his lips. “I am simply speaking in general terms. Though I would not be opposed to more sex, too.”
He doesn’t miss the twinkle in your eyes (and he does smile, then).
“Ergo,” he continues with a giddiness uncharacteristically present on his tongue, “I hypothesise that an increase in physical contact between us, in any and all forms, would lead to an increase in my quality of life. Only if that would be something you may also enjoy, of course.”
“You know, I never had you down as much of the type to put the fate of something as precious as your quality of life in someone else’s hands.” You lean in and kiss him in the way that always leaves him half-dizzy and wanting more; chaste but playful; almost saccharine. “But I’ll take good care of it.”
Truth be told, Jumin is not the type to give away his vulnerability easily. Not at all. But if he feels the need to explain himself further (and he does), it never comes. His need for you is not something he can effectively vocalise. Just because — that’s at the crux of it. Just because.
So subtleties shift to blatancies. When you drag yourself out of his bed in the mornings that you stay at the penthouse to greet him brewing tea or coffee for you both in the kitchen, you wrap your arms around his waist and sink into his back with no hesitancy or resistance. He lets you take the first cup and holds onto it longer than he needs to just to feel the way the heat passes between his hands and the ceramic and between your hands and his. He tucks your hair away from your face as you take the first sip, and revels in the way you gently rest your head against him with your eyes closed while trying to properly wake yourself up. The way you make a point of straightening his tie and smoothing out his jacket before he leaves for work, how you linger with your hands pressed to his chest, is something he savours. It means he kisses you with just a little more fervour than had previously been typical in the morning, and he won’t complain when you keep his mouth to yours for just a few moments too long. When he has the honour of coming home to you after an exhausting day he will happily lay on you as you run your fingers into his hair and listen to him talk. He will let himself be pampered and held and kissed silly. And he will reject that pesky null hypothesis: There is no significant relationship between physical contact and my quality of life.
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!
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.
The soft sound of water against the sides of the tub, your quiet voices as you tell each other about your day, the glass of wine in his hand. This might be the closest thing to heaven Jumin can imagine after a long day at work.
You sit at the edge of the tub, working shampoo into the roots of Jumin’s hair. He tips his head back a little, happy to be spoiled.
You often like to come sit with him, share a glass of wine and catch up on what you missed that day while he's having a bath. Washing his hair for him has become an occasional addition to this tradition of yours. A treat.
And by the look of his expression as you massage his scalp with your fingertips, you can tell he's enjoying it. You could watch him for ever when he’s like this, a part of you delighted that you’re the only one who gets to see him this way, completely vulnerable and at ease. It is in moments like this that you can see the full extent of how much he trusts you.
He isn't used to being cared for. He learned to become self-sufficient quickly in life, to care for himself and not search for affection or approval elsewhere in his life. He had spent so long without seeking or receiving physical affection of any kind, he hadn't realised how much he was missing it in his life, couldn't imagine sharing a love like the one he shares with you.
The first time you offered to wash his hair for him, he was surprised. It was a day like today, where you just wanted to be near him after work. You had brought it up casually, gave him plenty of space to back out if it wasn’t something he wasn’t comfortable with. In reality, it had never occurred to him before, even though he had helped you with your hair from time to time. He had ended up saying yes mostly out of curiosity.
But he has come to greatly enjoy the feeling of being cared for by you. Putting his head in your hands feels safe, reassuring. He knows that you will take care of him. As long as you are here, his worries remain at bay. You gently massage his temples, where you know pressure can build after a tiring day, and he melts.
He had been telling you about the foreign business partner he had met today, but he has stopped talking now. He focuses on the sensations, the water you're gently pouring over his head (with one hand shielding his eyes) as you rinse out the shampoo.
Next comes the conditioner, and you take your time working it into the ends of his hair. He hums softly. When he opens his eyes, he can look straight into yours. You look at him fondly, brush back the hairs that are stuck to his forehead.
“Join me,” he says, not for the first time.
You don't reply immediately, apparently absorbed in combing through his hair properly with your fingers. There is a comb somewhere, but you don't feel like leaving his side to find it.
It's a little game, as much a part of this tradition of yours as anything else. He will try and convince you to join him, and you will take your time with his hair before you eventually do. By the time you're done, he will have made good work of wetting your sleeves. He'll say, as if he is casually making an observation, that it looks like you're already half-in anyway, and you might as well join him now.
After a few minutes, you look pleased with your work and rinse out the conditioner from his hair. He wraps one wet hand around your wrist, calling your attention back to what he was saying.
“How does that feel?” You ask.
“Wonderful, Darling, thank you. There’s just one thing missing.”
You smile. You already know what’s coming.
“And what would that be?”
He snakes one arm out of the tub and wraps it around your waist, over your clothes.
“Join me,” he says, more determined this time.
You tip your head to the side a little, in a show of thinking it over.
“I don’t know…”
His hand finds its way under the hem of your shirt and makes contact with the soft skin underneath. You shiver involuntarily from the temperature difference.
“Let me take care of you now.”
It doesn’t take much more convincing for you to drop your charade and join him.
I know this is a week late 😔, but this week... OMG 🫨, if I make it past Sunday is going to be a miracle...
Remember you can still participate until the masterlist is published 😺
The masterlist is probably going to be published at the end of October
There's a big chance this is going to be the last year of Jumin Week due to the fandom dying 🙁, so yeah don't miss the chance to participate (yet I thought the same last year so who knows)
10 October 2023—GRAVESTONE
Jumin Week—Physical Touch
“That’s morbid.” Jumin said as he watched his wife step away from the headstone she’d just set on their front yard. It read ‘Jumin Han, beloved husband and father’ with a death date of the current year, beneath that it read ‘Lillie Han, beloved wife and mother’, with the same death date. “At least we died together apparently.”
“We did, in a car accident, quite tragic really.” Lillie quipped.
“And, how many children did we leave behind?”
“Five.”
“Five? Goodness, we’ve been busy.” He laughed. Lillie hugged him close, placing her hand between his shoulder blades. She could feel him shiver beneath her touch. The man was jelly in her hands.
“We have!”
“Who’s going to take care of them now?” he asked, the feel of her against his body sending a thrill through him as always.
“Hmm, maybe Yoosung?” she said.
“Yoosung? He can’t even take care of himself. He’d let them run all over him. I think not.” He laughed.
“Oh, don’t be silly, Yoosung would love them unconditionally, besides, he has Saeran to help.”
Jumin arched an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose our friends would step up wouldn’t they?”
“Yes, now, want to help me with Elizabeth 3rd’s gravestone too?”
“What?” he said, “She’s gone too?”
“Yes, she was in the car with us, we were taking her to the vet because she was sick. Thankfully driver Kim wasn’t driving, now that would be tragic.” She laughed.
“Ha ha, come back here. I think I need some intimacy after all of this tragedy.” He pulled her towards him cupping her face gently and kissed her. “I just need to feel you close my love.”
“I love you.” She said, gazing into his eyes. “Why don’t we go inside and maybe we can get started on those five kids.” She teased.
Jumin smirked as he scooped her up in his arms and headed into the house. “Let’s!”
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?”
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“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.
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?”
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.
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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!
“I don’t want to let go.” She pressed her lips together, nodding quickly.
“That’s perfectly fine. Can I…suggest something?” she tried, feeling slightly apprehensive when he was quiet for a long moment.
“Go ahead,” he finally said, and she smiled, looking past her hands back towards his bedroom.
“If we move this to the bed, would—” She paused, feeling her skin heat up from head to toe as she heard him stop breathing.
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She breathed in slowly, opening her eyes a bit and remembering where she was. She stretched, turning to look at the time on Jumin’s alarm clock. It was barely past 3 in the morning, and the rest she’d gotten so far had only left her feeling more drowsy. She pulled the covers off her lower half, stepping onto the cold floor and shivering just a little. Wrapping her arms around herself, she moved out of the room towards the light coming from the living area.
Jumin was sat on the couch, staring past the glass of wine in his hands as he swirled it. His eyebrows were set low on his forehead, his jaw stiff and clenched as he twisted himself in his own tangled thoughts. She sighed worriedly, wishing more than anything that she could make Elizabeth appear right in front of him. But even that wouldn’t alleviate his worries completely.
Jumin looked up suddenly, his face softening slightly as he quickly put his glass down.
“You’re still awake? Is something uncomfortable?” he asked, standing to meet her as she took a few steps in his direction. She shook her head, smiling lightly as she looked him up and down. “It’s not even nearly morning yet. Is the bed uncomfortable?” Shaking her head again, she chuckled tiredly.
“Not at all, Jumin. What are you doing up?” she asked in reply, watching as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“I was observing you sleep for some time. You can’t know how wonderful it is to hear you breathe when you’re sleeping,” he began, making her smile lightly. She couldn’t imagine being in his shoes, losing someone so important to you just as you find someone who becomes just as important. She wouldn’t be able to feel any less troubled about them leaving.
“When the moonlight hits your hair, all that anxiety that’s been torturing me throughout the day magically disappears. And for a while, tranquil and beautiful peace persists. But…once the sun comes up and you start your day, I’ll be anxious again. Anxious thoughts of you leaving…of someone making you leave…” She took a step closer, shaking her head.
“I told you I would stay until you figured everything out,” she said gently, watching him nod but look unconvinced as his gaze wandered to the side. “It’s only the party planning that concerns me.” He clenched his jaw, sighing out quickly.
“I know,” he breathed. She saw how tense he was, wondering how much pain it was causing him to be rigid with worry for so long. Glancing down, she saw his hands tightly gripping his arms, and she reached out instinctively, removing his left hand from his right arm. She held it in her own for a moment, and then she began to gently massage it, trying to work out some of the tension as he stared at her.
“Right now, nothing can hurt you or me,” she reminded him, seeing his eyes focused entirely on her. “You should rest. Your body and mind deserve it,” she continued, turning his hand over and continuing to rub circles into his palm gently.
“I wish I could,” he said lowly, clearing his throat afterward. “That way, my mind would have more strength to…resist,” he finished, and she met his eyes, seeing the dark grey of his irises almost burning as he looked at her. Her stomach twisted, and her mind wouldn’t produce words for a long moment.
“I’m not trying to…tempt you, Jumin,” she replied, her hands pausing against his as she held them in midair.
“You don’t have to try,” he said simply, his own words making his eyebrows twist in guilt. She let go of his hand, not anticipating or intending the situation to head in this direction.
About to explain herself, she took a breath as his hands moved to her waist, and he stepped impossibly closer. He was leaning over her, his eyes taking in the features of her face before his gaze paused on her lips. She was sure her heart would beat out of her chest, but she was at a loss for words, remembering their kiss from yesterday morning and unable to forget how he’d caged her against the wall the previous night.
Just before their lips brushed, Jumin closed his eyes tightly, turning his head and pulling her into his chest instead. Her eyes were wide with surprise, her arms at her side as he wound his arms further around her in a tight hug.
Taking a shallow, shaky breath, she moved to hug him, lifting her arms over his shoulders and linking them behind his head loosely. She thought the reciprocation would have eased him even slightly, but his shoulders were still tensed, his breathing short and quick.
“Jumin, are you alright?” she whispered, closing her eyes to try and focus on helping him.
“I’m trying to control myself,” he replied, his voice strained and guttural. She took another breath, trying to relax her body as an example for him to follow.
“Is this okay?” she wondered, feeling his hands clench into fists against the fabric of her pajamas.
“I don’t want to let go.” She pressed her lips together, nodding quickly.
“That’s perfectly fine. Can I…suggest something?” she tried, feeling slightly apprehensive when he was quiet for a long moment.
“Go ahead,” he finally said, and she smiled, looking past her hands back towards his bedroom.
“If we move this to the bed, would—” She paused, feeling her skin heat up from head to toe as she heard him stop breathing.
“Um, not like that, uh,” she amended, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to think more carefully.
“I just mean, I think it would be better if you were able to lie down and relax,” she got out, speaking slowly and softly. He resumed breathing, releasing his fists and clenching them once again.
“I trust you, but I don’t know if I can trust myself right now,” he said, just above a whisper. She nodded slightly, getting her breathing back to normal.
“I trust you, Jumin. You said yourself that you don’t want to disrupt the…order of things,” she reminded him, feeling him turn his face into her hair slightly.
“I still feel that way,” he agreed.
“Okay, let’s focus on that,” she suggested, testing how he would respond if she tried to move away. She unlinked her arms, using her feet to push herself back and meet his eyes again. He looked helpless, gazing at her for guidance as she smiled and pulled back further. His hands had unfurled, running along her waist as she stepped only a pace away from him.
“Have you ever cuddled with anyone before?” she asked quietly, seeing him want to fidget as he held and broke her gaze multiple times.
“I’ve never been in a physical relationship of that caliber,” he replied, making her smile at how eloquent he was being as if he wasn’t seconds from falling apart.
“That’s okay, I was just wondering,” she nodded, taking her hands from his shoulders and grabbing his hands that had been lingering on her waist. She held them gently before keeping just one in her own and taking a step to move past him. She led him towards his room, watching her feet so she didn’t stumble as the darkness grew.
“Because of that, I think it would help if you could…explain…what you’ll be doing,” he said hesitantly, his voice getting quieter as he spoke. She nodded, adjusting her approach to the situation as they stepped through his bedroom door.
“I can do that. Thank you for telling me,” she said as they neared the foot of the bed and her eyes adjusted to the low light.
“I’m going to have you lie down on your side, facing the window, okay?” she started, watching him nod to himself and climb onto the bed. He stiffly laid down, his arms slightly out in front of himself as he looked at her warily.
“Perfect, and now I’m–”
“Would you also be able to explain the purpose of this?” he interjected, pressing his lips together. She tilted her head, ignoring the immediate answer that was her selfish desire to be close to him and make him feel alright.
“Well, being physically close to, or cuddling, with others releases hormones that make people feel…good, and it can help relieve stress, anxiety, and depression,” she responded, gesturing nervously with her hands as he watched. Clearing his throat, he shifted on the bed slightly, raising an eyebrow.
“Since I’ve never engaged in it, I suppose I can’t say whether or not that statement is true until I have tried it,” he thought aloud, making her smile and shed some of her hesitations.
“I agree.” She placed a knee on the bed, pulling herself up onto it and making his eyes widen. Faltering, she opened her mouth quickly, laughing tensely.
“I’m sorry, um,” she breathed, shaking her head a little. “Now I’m going to lie down in front of you, facing you, and I’ll be close, okay?” she explained, waiting for him to nod before she continued, moving slowly and predictably as she lowered herself on her side in front of him. He studied her every move, making her heartbeat ring in her ears as she finally settled.
“And now, you can hug me like you were before,” she said, trying to speak at a quiet volume but falling into a whisper. He looked between both of her eyes, looking worried and almost scared.
“Don’t worry,” she smiled, ignoring the way her hands had begun to shake. “This much is okay, Jumin.” He mulled it over for a moment before he lifted an arm over her, resting his hand on the small of her back. She watched his expression quietly, lifting her head when he began to move his other arm so that he could wind it behind her. His hand gripped her shoulder, and she let him pull her close enough that she could no longer meet his eyes, her head dipping below his chin.
She took a deep breath, holding her hands to her chest as she waited for him to get comfortable. His breathing was fast, and she could feel the pulse of his heart through the hand on her shoulder.
“Jumin,” she called softly, but he must not have heard her, still as rigid as ever. “Is it okay if I touch you as well?” she asked, getting his attention as both his hands twitched.
“Yes,” he whispered in her ear, making her stomach flip as she moved a hand forward. She pressed it on his upper chest, her fingertips able to feel his clavicle beneath his shirt and the way his heart was racing. She waited just a moment before slowly moving her hand back and forth, rubbing small, soothing circles into his skin and willing him to relax underneath her.
She closed her eyes, breathing deeply in and out so that he could match it, his heart rate slowing slightly as he listened to her and focused on her touch.
“Can I touch your head?” she whispered, hearing his breath hitch briefly.
“Yes,” he replied again, his affirmation a soft breath against her ear. She blinked, biting her tongue as she used her other hand to reach up and smooth out the hair on the back of his head. His breathing accelerated again, and she hesitated, trying a hand through his hair instead. He grunted in surprise, the noise a groggy, deep sound.
She ran another hand through his hair when he didn’t say anything, unable to help the smile that stretched onto her lips when he pulled her closer. So she continued, wondering in the back of her mind what he used to make his hair so soft.
It was many minutes before his breathing began to even out, his hands slightly loosening around her as he got more comfortable.
“I’m not going anywhere, Jumin. I promise,” she whispered, barely able to hear herself say the words. He hummed lightly, almost in a sigh. She smiled to herself, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
She lost track of time as she lay there in his arms, her eyes closing naturally as she felt him go limp against her. Wishing him a restful sleep, she stilled herself, pressing a gentle kiss to his arm that was acting as her pillow as she too, drifted off to sleep.
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thank you all so much for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed even one sentence that I was able to share with you, and I can't thank you enough for all the support you've given. I haven't written like this in almost three years, and it feels so good to be back.
stay tuned for more from me! I think I'm going to participate in a few of the MysticTober prompts for this year! thanks again <3
