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mysticmelove · 1 year

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Impatience

(Jumin x MC) [NSFW]

“Are you working tomorrow?”

Jumin couldn’t help but scoff at the comment. Maybe she was joking, he couldn’t quite tell with the distance between them, but it definitely wasn’t the best jest he’d heard. “When am I not?”

He heard her giggle to herself in the bathroom, the sound of the running water being shut off with it. “You never know, sometimes you get a day off.”

“Sometimes...” Jumin slowed down as he felt his phone vibrate at his side on the bed - another email. He sighed at the thought of doing any more work before going to bed, “Those times are few and far between though, aren’t they?” He knew he shouldn’t have opened the email but suddenly he was reading a list of very detailed concerns passed through one person to another. Another sigh. He’s was going to have to deal with this now or it was going to plague his workload more than he could possibly bear.

“What’s with all the sighing?”

“I have to go and tie some things up in the office quickly.”

“No,” MC was quick to protest, her brows furrowing as she poked her head around the doorframe of the en-suite.

Jumin’s eyes were still deep in his phone. “I know I agreed to come to bed with you, my love, but I really must—” his jaw fell slightly lax at the sight of his wife, now stood in the space of the room almost glaring through him. He huffed as he sat back on their bed, his free hand massaging the bridge of his nose as he found it impossible to shift his sight. It had been a long time since she’d played this game: stealing his clothes and teasing him wordlessly. In fact, it had been some time since they’d had any real alone time. “I was going to wear that one tomorrow”

MC fiddled with one of the sleeve cuffs before rolling her eyes, not joining in with his halfhearted joke. “So, are you staying?” she questioned, beginning to climb up on the bed one knee at a time, “Or do I have the bed to myself? Again.”

Her words were nothing but harsh on his ears, brash and unforgiving, yet she continued her crawl towards him. Jumin sighed into the air between them: “Don’t make me feel guilty.”

“I’m not making you do anything, Jumin.” She was practically in his lap now, her fingers tracing his jawline through her alluring gaze. “You can run away to that little office down the hallway,” MC had leant in even closer, making it impossible for him to breathe without inhaling her own warm air, “or you could come to bed with your wife for once, hm?”`

Temptress - that was the only word Jumin could muster in the moment to describe his wife. She’d snuck her way into trapping him with so little effort, her thighs either side of his own, encasing him effectively. Their lips locked in silence, moving against each other feverishly as she chased what had been so lacking. “You’re right,” Jumin broke their kiss with care, “I can do as I wish.” His fingers began to thread upward through her hair, all the while her eyes remained focused almost solely on his lips. “And I believe I know what should be done.”

MC hummed in delight, her eye-line following the path her fingers paved now, “Uh huh, and what would that be?” She couldn’t say she’d mentally checked out of the conversation but surely she’d gotten him now - she was a woman with a successful plan and she would most definitely reap the rewards. In her trance, her nails teased around the checked waistband of his trusted pyjamas all but ready to pounce when her husband would step in.

Without a word, Jumin took a grip around both her wrists, resulting in a very unpleasant and warning glare up through his other half’s brows once more. “Something needs to be done about this work before tomorrow—” he admitted with ease, taking a stronger grip as he prepared for her backlash. “But,” his face grew closer as his voice grew quieter: “I do think, at this moment, taking care of my wife is paramount. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Ah..” MC let out a breath at once, her body relaxing from its brink of outrage.

With a smirk, he kissed her parted lips. “‘Ah’ indeed, my love. You put some thought into this; it’d be cruel to ignore that fact.” Letting go of her wrists, his hands creeped around either side of her cheeks and up into her hair; graciously guiding her further up the bed to sit upright in his lap. All the while, their mouths didn’t dare to part, sly teeth pinching at her bottom lip. With her thighs either side of his hips, Jumin’s grasp definitely wasn’t slow to find it’s way downward and have him palming at her flesh which his shirt did the favour of leaving exposed. He was working blind as he fought to keep up with the goddess latched to his lips and his hand worked up the space, god was she even wearing anything under his cotton press?

MC whined fruitfully into his mouth, prompting another smirk. He could feel the firm pressure of the pads of her fingers edging their way up the nape of his neck and into his freshly trimmed hair, though this feeling was second to her hips grinding so desperately down on him. With a particularly lewd moan, he pulled away, almost laughing at how quickly she’d come apart following her prior annoyance. “We’re lacking in patience tonight, my love.” Jumin’s lips trailed to her jaw, then her neck where he’d nip for an illicit a gasp. “I don’t feel we’ll be here long. Will we, beautiful?”

MC couldn’t possibly contain her groans as Jumin’s lips wreaked havoc on her neck: lips, teeth and tongue bruising her skin with care. Her fingers weaved through strands of his dark hair, drawing him closer. “Good,” she breathed: “then you can make time for both your wife and work.” With a particularly hard bite, she moaned a gasp.

Jumin then pulled away, a low chuckle leaving his stomach as his gaze met her’s once again. “I walked straight into that, didn’t I?”

“Definitely.” MC nodded impatiently, her hands and eyes locked onto the buttons of her husband’s shirt encasing her chest. Though, she didn’t make it past the first before Jumin’s hands were wrapped around her wrists again.

“Leave it on.”

“But–”

“I don’t care,” he cut off her whining with that stern tone he was so comfortable with, “you put in the effort to steal it so don’t you dare discard it. And, my darling, you look so very delectable in my clothes.”

A curse passed MC’s lips at his words, her eyes a flutter as she was powerless to prevent him from laying her flat on the bed. One of his hands laid under her waist, the other guiding her thigh to one side to make space for himself, and his lips devouring the moans from beneath him. “You know,” Jumin began another mumble as his lips roamed once more to the crook of her neck, “I’d much rather… you chose a shirt I was less fond of.” He wasn’t expecting a coherent response, nor would he get one. Relentless fingers continued to message at the supple flesh of MC’s inner thighs, silently roaming their way closer and closer to what she craved. “It will be… incredibly difficult to wear the shirt again… I will only be able to think about my wife like this.” And an answer to his question - she had so tastefully opted for nothing under the shirt. Jumin rose to watch her shudder as his fingers ghosted over her, her hands flinching slightly to grasp at the bedding with a single trace of her clit. “Do you understand, my love?”

MC finally met his eyes again, half-lidded as her chest rose and fell with great desperation. What was he saying? Of course, she had become his distraction yet again. “Mm…” she raised a hand to brush away the stray hairs beginning to stick to her husband’s forehead. “You’re saying I’m—” With a guttural moan she had cut herself off, the unannounced insertion of Jumin’s fingers sending her eyes rolling into her skull.

“A harlot.” He took it upon himself to finish the sentence for his beloved. In a need to be closer, he moved to whisper directly to her ear - his lips grazing the hot skin while his fingers rocked away out of sight. “I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself when it comes to your beautiful temptations.” He could only hear a symphony of moans and gasps. “You know I’d give in to you every single time, my love.”

She whined frivolously, one hand clawing at his toned back and the other scrunching their sheets into thousands of creases. If her own grinding down to meet him wasn’t enough to lose all thought of her surroundings, the addition of his thumb rubbing rhythmic circles most definitely was. She needed to be fucked by him, she thought, but there was absolutely no hope she’d be able to hold out that long. “Jumin… please!” and so the mindless begging began.

“What is it, darling?” He questioned, lifting himself to see that wonderful twisted expression he was so effortlessly causing.

“Please!” MC cried, her neck now strained like her fingers crushing it’s trapped cotton.

“Shall I guess?” Jumin teased, maliciously increasing the pressure of his touch. In an instant, her back had arched and he continued his ruse: “You’re desperately close… You’d like my help to finish, correct?”

“Yes!” Their eyes met for barely a second before MC was writhing again. Her muscles tensed with a great, slurry of whines and she was helpless to keep her legs still. Jumin thanked his arm had not grown fatigued as he felt her end nearing and heard the sweet sound of incoherent begging, pleasure and love. “I’m- I’m… Jumin-”

“Just go ahead, sweetheart.” A small chaste kiss was all that could be managed before her back arched once more and moans streamed endlessly from her barely conscious mind.

She lay, panting for a minute, before Jumin concluded she was back with him. He removed his fingers and gently as humanly possible and watching the remanent shivers wash over his wife. “You ok?” He spoke softly, his clean hand brushing over her flushed cheek.

Silently, she smiled, her once clawed hands smoothing over his toned chest before she could lean up to return his kiss. “Perfect, my love. Perfect.” She jittered in her spot on the bed, though her expression dare not to falter and worry her husband. “I’ll wait for you.”

Jumin sighed, his brows furrowing at her suggestion. “You know I don’t like leaving you after: it’s improper.”

“I know.” MC moved for her thumb to barely graze his own cheek, the feeling a frail as how she looked before him. “But I’m giving you permission… So thirty minutes to go finish your work and then we may go to bed together.”

Had she not had the most reassuring smile Jumin wouldn’t dare listen to her suggestion. Still his concern was audible: “Do you need any help? Anything?”

“No,” she hushed him effortlessly: “Go ahead and I’ll be waiting.”

Jumin stroked her cheek once more, prompting a different type of flush from the one previously faded. “You’ll be asleep in five,” he laughed sincerely.

“I will not!”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Jumin.”

#mystic messenger #mysme #jumin x mc #jumin han #mystic messenger jumin #mysme jumin #mc mystic messenger #mc mysme #mystic messenger drabble #mysme drabble #mystic messeger headcanon #this was sat in drafts incomplete for years

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rfaromance · 9 months

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"It's too much."

"What is?"

"All of it."

Saeyoung knew that feeling. The feeling as though the world were crashing around him, every second of every day. He would patch one crack just to see another wall crumble further.

He had no choice but to keep up, as he'd only ever lived in a world where if he faltered for a mere second, the meager supports holding the world up would all collapse at once and crush him. He had to move fast, think fast, react fast.

For years now, he'd accepted that his body was powered more by adrenaline than by blood or oxygen.

But he didn't want them to live like that. He would never wish this anxiety on anyone, least of all the person who restored the stars to his eyes and made him believe in fairy tale endings again.

"It hurts."

"What does?"

"All of it."

He knew they wanted to handle everything on their own. They had that same meddlesome habits that he did: take care of every task without any help, lest you be a nuisance. Take care of every task on your own, because nobody else can be trusted to do it correctly. They'd work themselves into the ground because they were too afraid to burden others, and they were too afraid of important matters being done sloppily.

"It's okay if you need to cry."

"No time."

"I swear to G-d above, on my love for you, to the patch of earth that's been waiting to become my grave since the moment I was born. If you need to lie down for a moment... to relax your shoulders, to unclench your jaw, to punch, to kick, to claw, to sob... I'll be your Atlas, and keep the world standing until you're ready to face it."

#saeyoung choi #luciel choi #707 #707 x mc #gn!mc #saeyoung x mc #mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #self indulgent drabble... have a really rough week ahead of me

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space-wedding · 2 years

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Jumins Notebook

Inspired by this conversation i had with @marshmallowprotection

You find Jumin’s notebook on the kitchen table. You take a peek and it’s contents shock you, in the best way possible.

Just a cute and fluffy self-insert drabble/one shot, suitable for all readers~

gnc!mc

You wake up around your usual time on a sunday morning. Wanting to cuddle with your beloved, you reach over to the other side of the bed. Your hand touches something soft, warm and fuzzy. “Ah Elizabeth”, a sigh escapes your mouth as you remember that Jumin must have already left, for an important meeting with a distillery owner.

Your stomach is starting to growl. You stretch. One of those morning stretches that cracks every bone in your body. After getting up, you lazily make your way to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Still half asleep you reach into the fridge for some overnight oats that were prepared yesterday.

Sitting at the table to enjoy your breakfast you notice a notebook laying there, titled “Of The Most Importance”. “Ah, Jumin must have forgotten it”, you think to yourself. While eating your breakfast, you can’t help but keep eyeing the book right beside you. You’re definitely not one to snoop around as you trust your husband fully and he trusts you too. But you just couldn’t help it as curiosity took over.

You open the book, slowly, anticipating of what could be so important.

The title reads:

Y/N

“Huh? Me?” You wonder, “Is this notebook really about me?”

- Y/N mentioned this book called (title), i should purchase it, so I can read it as well. - Y/N seems to really like forget-me-nots, I will get them a bouquet on my way home. (Beside that, a dried forget-me-not is sticking to the page) - Y/N scrunches their nose when they think really hard. Cute. - Y/N sometimes baby-talks Elizabeth. They don’t know that I’ve heard them do that before. This always brings a smile to my face. (A printed out picture of you, cuddling Elizabeth, is glued beneath that) - Y/N snort-laughs when they find something exceptionally funny. I love it when they do that.

You catch yourself snort laughing at that comment. You cannot believe that Jumin Han, CEO and chairman-in-line, has a scrapbook. A scrapbook about YOU. “Is this real?” You think to yourself, “ There is no way. Is there really someone, who loves me so much, to have a whole notebook filled?!” A million butterflies swarm in your chest as you continue to read.

- I don’t actually really like (show title), but Y/N seems to love it. So I always watch it with them. Maybe I should get them merchandise of it?

“Oh what a sacrifice~” you say, sarcastically, even if there is no one to hear it. You chuckle. “How is he so darn cute?”

- Saw Y/N looking at a suit in the window as we walked past the clothing store. Going back later to buy it for them. (glued beside that is a printed out picture of you wearing said suit.) - Y/N always grunts when they pick something up from the floor, even if it’s not heavy at all. Very adorable, makes me chuckle. - Usually I wake before Y/N. Watching them sleep beside me fills my heart. It brings me peace and makes me feel safe. - Catching myself thinking about the future with Y/N often. Will we have children one day? I hope so. (Beside that is a stick figure drawing of two grown ups, both holding a smaller one’s hands)

“He’s thinking of having a family with me one day?”, a heat rushes to your face as you feel yourself blushing. Your thoughts are starting to drift off. This man makes you feel things you’ve never felt before. Everything he does, everything he sais, makes you fall in love even more. His presence is so warm, calm... safe. A love, a bond, that cannot be described with words alone.

*ring ring ring*

The startling noise of your phone ringing brings you back to reality. You grab it. The words My love <3 light up on the screen. Of course you pick up.

“Hey, Jumin!”

“My darling. How are you? Did you sleep well?”

“I love you so much. So much I don’t even know how to express it.” You say, very excitedly, smiling from one ear to the other, you declare “Also, yes! I do want to have a family with you one day!”

“Ah, I see. You’ve found my notebook that I’ve left.” He chuckles. “Hearing you say that makes me incredibly happy. I love you too, now and forever.”

#mystic messenger #jumin han #jumin han mystic messenger #mysme jumin #my writing #drabble #one shot #self insert #mc

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tiresomeimagination · 2 years

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Since you and Saeyoung have seriously started your relationship, you've started looking for little ways to help him improve his self-care habits. A lot of his bad habits are pretty deeply ingrained from all his time working alone, so you have to try small things rather than expecting huge change right away. First order of business is his diet. Having you by his side does encourage him to take an interest in setting aside time to eat with you, so you don't have to twist his arm too much...unless he gets engrossed in his work. If left to his own devices, Saeyoung tends to get sucked into a project and you might not see him for hours on end. One thing you can do to make sure he gets at least one good meal in for the day is to pack him a lunch and leave it on his desk.

~~~~~

Saeyoung was headed back to his workstation, ready to get back to his coding. To his surprise, his workspace wasn't exactly how he left it. In front of his computer sat a bento box with a note attached. He curiously picked it up to read it.

"Good luck at work today, Saeyoung! ^3^ Don't forget to eat some lunch today. If this bento isn't emptied by dinnertime, I'll know ;P"

He couldn't help but smile, his heart warming at the sweet gesture. He was never going to get used to this...Having somebody care about him this much. It was still so surreal that he could hardly believe it.

"Uhh...Y/N?" He called out, poking his head out into the living area.

"Yeah?" You called back.

"You know you don't have to pack a lunch for me, cause I'm not actually leaving the house, right?" He asked, a mixture of confusion and amusement in his tone as he pondered your logic.

"If you don't have something ready and grabbable in your line of vision, you'll be working with nothing but chips and soda in your system. This way you can't forget!" You said with a laugh.

You were too busy focusing on the TV to notice Saeyoung come up behind you until he placed his hands gently on your shoulders and pressed a featherlight kiss to the top of your head. You chuckled and leaned back to look at him.

"How'd I get so lucky...?" He murmured under his breath, looking down at you with pure adoration.

You smiled up at him with an equal level of affection in your gaze. "I'm the lucky one, silly. You deserve to be spoiled a little...and I won't let you forget it!" You said firmly before stretching your neck up in an attempt to reach Saeyoung's face.

You missed his lips due to the awkward angle and kissed his chin instead.

You both giggled, wrapped up in your own little world together.

A small exasperated sigh came from across the room as Saeran averted his eyes from yet another display of affection and refocused his attention elsewhere. He vaguely wondered if you two ever got tired of doing that. Probably not. His brother was clearly nothing if not committed.

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sentinelpri · 1 year

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Dye

Saeyoung Choi is sick of having red hair.

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

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

707 has entered the chatroom.

707: hey guys!

707: guess what

Yoosung☆: What is it Seven?

707: I’M DYEING MY HAIR

Jumin Han: Right now?

Yoosung☆: What color??

707: It’s a surprise!

707: d:

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

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

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

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

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

Jumin Han: Seven.

And now Jumin’s there.

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

707: YES DADDY!?!??

ZEN: I suddenly feel very nauseous.

Yoosung☆: Same… ew.

Jumin Han: Can I call you?

Seven’s heart skips a beat at that.

707: Yes, daddy (;

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

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

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

707 has left the chatroom.

Jumin Han has left the chatroom.

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

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

ZEN: Yeah

ZEN: We are going to ignore all of it.

Yoosung☆: Ight then ima dip.

Yoosung☆ has left the chatroom.

ZEN has left the chatroom.

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

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

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

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

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

Seven chuckles.

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

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

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

“No, about dyeing your hair.”

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

“What color?”

“White.”

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

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

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

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

“Hm? What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was-”

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

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

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

“I thought you said it looked good!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s got you so stressed out?”

“Who said I’m stressed out?”

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

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

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

“Can you not just go into his room?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll try. Talk to you soon, then.”

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

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

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

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

“What do you want?”

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“Okay, did you take your meds?”

“No, now fuck off!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah, that reminds me! I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How much? You forgot to ring me up.”

Jaehee shakes her head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

“Cutting my hair.”

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

“I did.”

“Then why are you cutting it now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

“Thanks, Jumin,”

“Hey, I have an idea,”

“And what would that be?”

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

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

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keikaru · 5 days

Text

love's imbroglio - mystic messenger (Jumin Han/MC)

“I might not have the experience or knowledge like you, but I am a fast learner. Teach me, and I’ll be able to perform within your range of expectations. If I can’t keep up—dismiss me. But before you let your biases muddle your judgement, at least let me prove myself that I am not incompetent to whatever level you hold me at.”

Her eyes narrowed to the same firmness of her voice. She knew her mild temperament was close to succumbing to fury and disgust, but she smoothed her skirt and reigned in her anger. Once the elevator descended to the lobby, she could walk away and forget everything.

In fact, she could have walked away at any moment, damn the consequences. Yesterday, three days ago, last week when the deal was finalized. Yet she stayed. She couldn’t find it in herself to leave—not when her parents’ businesses were on the line. Not when her mother’s high end fashion line and her father’s grand hotels were at stake.

Although she should have been aghast by the severity of the situation, something far greater than those concerns reeled her attention away. Where did her older sister go?

The eldest was all gung-ho about inheriting her mother’s business that she interned and worked along their mother after high school and the following years. Her sister cut back on college classes and managed to be a part-time model and promote clothing lines and promotional items.

Now she—the second daughter—was thrust amid family problems. Correction—family business problems. Her disinterest in her parents’ business was clear, yet she found herself in the very core of it.

Most importantly, why did her sister disappear? And where did she go?

Her knuckles whitened as she curled her fingers into a tight ball. Her jaw was taut with tension. It was too soon to be reminded of her sister. She disappeared just five months ago.

She saw Jumin visibly stiffen, but his face was impassive as he brushed her comments aside with a pointed, sidelong glance. His eyes reflected a cold indifference, almost imploring her to utter one more bold statement that would lead to her resigning by tomorrow.

The air between them was filled with a thick silence. Mingled in with a tension and discomfort on a spectrum she hadn’t known existed until now.

She was going to be fired. She was certain of it. As her gaze caught his reflection in the elevator mirror, she noticed that he crossed his arms—it crinkled the sleeves of his dark tailored suit—and lowered his gaze. He suddenly found interest in the plush carpeting. Likewise, she averted her eyes to the wall beside her. But she had to voice her concern—her irritation about his inability to look beyond the small world he submerged himself in. That, and his obsession with his beloved feline partner, Elizabeth the third. “I apologize for my behavior,” Jumin said quietly, keeping her at a distance. Jumin shifted and leaned his shoulder against the wall. His eyes were trained on the glowing elevator buttons in front of him, but his body partially faced her. “I’ve been under much duress as of late. I didn’t mean to ignore or snap at you this entire week. I’ve been…inhospitable ever since our first meeting. And truthfully, it is not your fault by mine.”

#AU #arranged marriage #mystic messenger #mysme #mysme jumin #jumin han #jumin x MC #jumin x OC #my fic #WIP #fanfiction #fanfic #drabble #this was a super old idea with jumin/MC ft arranged marriage trope because of furthering business ties #it features a developing relationship/romance/drama #mc's parents and jumin's dad arranged this marriage #jumin is at first critical of MC but he eventually softens up when they spend time together and he ultimately gives her a choice #if she wants to be married to him #mc is torn because she's still young (early 20s) and figuring out her life and decides to wait #side plot that MC's older sister goes missing (pursue her own things) and eldest sister was supposed to marry Jumin INSTEAD #but then shenanigans happened and MC's parents wanted HER to marry Jumin instead #since jumin has never seen the eldest sister before that's why MC “posed” as the eldest #it's a bit of stolen identities/replacement and jumin pieces it together but doesn't tell MC's family that he knows

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shortking-saeran · 2 years

Text

A Gift [Ray x gn!Reader]

Word count: 684

Summary: Lil dribble about a stressed out Ray wanting to show reader his appreciation °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

a/n: If you got any requests let me know, this was such a great exercise!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had barely creeped over the dense tree line that framed the compound when Ray entered the garden. Morning dew had fallen over the beautiful flowers like a thin vail making it twinkle in the shy morning rays. 'It would only take a minute' he consoled himself his hands slick with sweat and shaking ever so slightly. His pale eyes filled with exhaustion from being overworked and pushing away sleep as he fought endlessly with that bothersome redhead. Ray had been glued to his computer screen for days and it pained him to know he hadn't gotten to see you in so long.

You were the reason he could still go on without food or breaks because he wanted to secure a future with you. His savior told him that this fight will be long but worth it in the end and he truly believed her, he had to believe her. The thought of you pulled his worn face into a meek smile. He would do anything for you including stepping away from his tireless fight, just for a moment, so he can pick the perfect flower to give you.

A worry had crossed into his mind while he was hacking and he tried to push those thoughts away cursing them, cursing his tired mind to waste times on such foolish thoughts but it grounded itself into his heart until it ached. "Y/n has forgotten all about you" the nasty thoughts had said, "y/n realized how useless you are, how pathetic you are" He growled and hissed trying to silence them but it became too much and he had to see you but he didn't want to show up empty handed, he needed a gift.

Ray's nimble fingers ran over the damp gentle petals his mind running over the various meanings of the flowers. "Forgiveness? No, no Purity? Innocence?" He bite down on his chapped lips thinking of what to bring you, what would be the perfect gift to show that his heart aches for you, that before all else you are everything to him.

That's when it came to him, the perfect flower to present to you.

There was a knock at your door. It was still so early in the morning you knew it couldn't be the strange cloaked men who brought you meals. It had been days since you had seen Ray and when you messaged him in the app he always seemed....anxious, it worried you.

"Y/n?" The shaky voice on the other side of the door sounded weak but familiar and you quickly rushed to open it. Ray stood there dark bags under his eyes, his soft white hair a mess, and his cheeks looked so hollow.

"It's a honeysuckle I wanted to bring you something special to show you that I care deeply for you" You take the flower in hand and pulled Ray into a tight hug.

"I-I'm sorry, I hope I didn't wake you. I need- I mean wanted to see you" his eyes soften taking in the sight of you. You looked well, you looked healthy Ray let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He felt emotion swirl in his heart not realizing just how much me missed you. His cheeks felt like they were burning up.

"Ray!" You gasped and hearing his name on your lips, your kind, caring lips was all it took to break him. Tears fell down his cheeks, he felt so relieved to see you. He held something out to you; a beautiful yellow flower with thin wispy petals that coiled and spun into itself.

"This is all for our paradise"

"You don't need to bring me anything" you whisper to him, "but please take care of yourself, for me" Ray hugged you back tighter melting in the warmth that you gave him so freely. He savored that moment, it only lasted a moment because it had to, he had to go back to that room so that he can secure a future for you.

"Soon we will have to worry about nothing but each other, we will have our happiness" Ray nuzzled deeply in your neck.

#mystic messenger #mysme saeran #saeran choi #saeran #saeran x mc #saeran x reader #one shot #mm saeran #mm ray #drabble #fanfic #boy needs a hug and a damn proper meal #my writing

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daisies-n-dewdrops · 2 years

Text

HELLO ALL !!

I’m in my fanfic writing era again !!

I write mystic messenger fics !! may expand fandoms soon !!

please request a character and a prompt and I will write it asap !! so excited to be writing again :]

WHAT I WILL NOT WRITE :

- incest

- underage sexual content

- piss or scat or anything like that

- A/B/O

WHAT I WILL WRITE:

- Fluff

- Angst

- Smut (Ive never written it before but I’m 18 now so I’m open to trying !)

- Horror

- AUs

- pretty much anything as long as it’s not under my do not write list !!

THANK YOU !!!!

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marshmallowprotection · 5 months

Note

“are you blushing?! that’s adorable.” For GE Saeran please

Saeran practically beamed cheek from cheek as he leaned over you. There was hardly any room for you to think about anything but how close he was to you. He was so close that there was no way for you to tell which heartbeat was pumping wildly out of control, his or yours.

You didn't want to look away, but you could feel your heart beating out of your chest the longer he stared at you with such sincerity.

It might have been mortifying to have him realize just how easy it was to make you blush, but there was a part of you that knew he knew he could do that well before where you were today. He didn't stop paying attention to everything you did, so he probably noticed long before you did that your instinctual reaction to the butterflies in your chest whenever he giggled was to turn beat red.

Every time he looked at you like that, the only thing you wanted to do was ask him to never look away for the rest of your lives.

It was selfish but to have him smile at you made you feel like you were walking on sunshine. However, he was the one who taught you that it was more than okay to be selfish, and he learned the same from you, so why in the world couldn't you enjoy the sweet moment together?

"Are you blushing? That's adorable," he cooed.

You glanced away, but you didn't turn away from his embrace. "What about it? I think it's wonderful to hear you laughing. You haven't had the opportunity to do that freely for a long time, either. Why wouldn't I be stunned by the sound of something that was once suppressed?"

Why wouldn't you be overwhelmed by the sound of his laughter? It was a blessing. He deserved to be able to laugh like that for the rest of his life.

"I'll keep laughing... because I'm lucky to have you in my life."

#mod kait #ask #mystic messenger #anon #mysme #saeran choi #mysticmessenger #mm #choi saeran #prompt list #drabble #ge saeran #saeray #saeran

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natasha-in-space · 3 months

Note

You're imagines are so well-written and eloquent op! I was wondering if I could request a playful Saeyoung imagine where MC (gender-neutral) is a dog person/works with dogs?

I don't think he would be against dogs of course but the playful banter would be funny since he's branded himself as the "cat guy".

So, a fun little fact! In my own personal ending with my cmc Natasha, Saeyoung actually ends up owning a doggo. Turns out he's actually way better with dogs than cats!

"-And who's this little bundle of joy?"

As you enter the bunker, you smile while carefully holding the fuzzy little creature under your winter coat. You know Saeyoung was already aware of you coming in with an unexpected guest, thanks to all the cameras around the front gate. Which is why it wasn't at all a surprise to see him greeting you right by the door, a curious glint to his eyes as he looked down at the small form hidden under your coat.

"Ah... I found her on the side of the road. I think someone dropped her off there. Poor thing was shaking all over when I saw her." You reply with a gentle tone, careful not to frighten the small critter nestled cozily into your arms. Once you were inside, and away from the harsh cold of winter, you kneel down to the ground, lowering the small fuzzy creature onto the shiny floor. It was an approximately 4 week old puppy: not of any particular breed at first glance. Maybe just a stray from a dog that was too much of a bother to take care of. It's a good thing you were looking over at the side of the road while driving back home today. If it wasn't for that, and the puppy's black furry coat catching your eye amidst all the white snow, you would have just driven past it without a passing glance.

Saeyoung quickly kneels beside you to take a closer look at the puppy. Her ears are pinned back with obvious fretfulness as she sniffs at his fingers cautiously, her entire tiny body tense and ready to jump back at any sign of danger. But, he's oddly quiet and careful around the scared puppy, just letting her sniff at him without any harsh movements from his side. You wonder if its small, vulnerable state reminded him of anything from his past, and that's why he's so careful with her. Regardless, it seemed like the puppy didn't feel threatened by him at all, so he was able to give it a few small strokes on its muzzle without it growling or biting him.

Saeyoung's brows furrow in an uncharacteristically annoyed expression as he gazes up at you. Though, it wasn't directed at you at all. "Seriously? In this weather?"

You are not surprised to hear the angry undertones in his usually soft voice. Nodding along as you settle yourself fully onto the floor, you keep your hand gently stroking the puppy's back, as it seemed to trust you quite a lot after your little trip together. "I don't think she was there for long, thankfully... She was pretty cold and shaky when I picked her up, but I think she managed to warm up with me in the car."

The puppy seemed to be grateful for all the gentle pets and attention you two were giving her, with her tiny tail wagging adorably. Looking at this small bundle of fluff in front of you made you smile uncontrollably. It's really a good thing that you managed to notice her when you did. Now, she was safe and warm. That's what's important.

Saeyoung hums in agreement, and his features soften significantly a bit as soon as he realized the puppy was okay. It was sweet. Watching him get so genuinely frustrated at the thought of a helpless puppy being left on the side of the road. After a quick check over the puppy, he raises his eyes back up at you with a small smile.

"I'm sure she's very grateful to you for finding her when you did. Though, I am honestly not surprised at you coming home with a helpless puppy in your arms. You're practically an angel already."

You can't help but roll your eyes at that, a light snort escaping you as you ignore his overtly dramatic comments. "I can throw away your trash or something, and you'd still call that benevolent or angelic."

"I mean... I was going for just sweet, but I can see you have other fantasies on your mind. I'll take note on that, my kitten."

He has the audacity to wink at you, to top things off.

You sputter awkwardly as you look back at the redheaded rascal with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, because you knew he just caught you right where he needed you. It seems like you fell for one of his tricks, like you always do, as evidenced by the huge knowing grin on his face.

"I'm gonna train her to chomp at your boots every time you tease me." You grumble, your cheeks puffed up in a pout as you take careful hold of the puppy and slide it onto your lap. Although she was unable to comprehend anything you two were saying to each other, she seemed rather curious to observe: her head tilting from side to side in an adorably endearing way.

It was hard to stay pouty with a cute puppy in your lap.

"Aw, but I wanted a kitten to be our first pet! What if Elly will stop wanting to come to my arms because I smell like a dog!?"

"Sorry to break your heart, Romeo, but she would rather cuddle with this puppy than come within a mile of you."

Looks like you'll be getting a new addition to the family.

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #mystic messenger 707 #luciel choi #saeyoung x reader #707 x reader #not very playful but more just a cute little drabble!#i just started writing and it went from there #i guess i'm in the mood for the softer saeyoung after that angsty post i wrote out 💀

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fishsticksloser · 1 year

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Late Night Talking

Zen x gn!reader

Warnings: so much swearing, fluff, kind of aggressive Zen (no abuse, just blunt)?, really really short

A/N: I wanted to write for my husband, Jihyun, but my brain won't work... :( So have Zen instead :)

Your phone started ringing. It was too late to be answering calls, no one should be calling you this late anyways. You choose to ignore it, letting it go to voicemail, but your phone starts ringing again. It must be important, so you grab your phone.

🤍Zenny🤍

Why was Zen calling you so late? Sure he didn't go to bed until late, but he knew not to bother you. You sighed and answered.

"You need to get the fuck out of my head and into my arms right now because I can’t keep thinking about you like this while not being able to hold you; it’s driving me up the walls." Zen huffs. Not even letting you say anything he continues. "You’re driving me up the walls, and the worst part is, you’re not doing shit that should make you drive me up the walls in the first place. You exist, and suddenly I can’t act right or think straight. It’s fucked."

"Wha-?" You were a little shocked. It's 12am, you were dozing off, you're not entirely sure what he said made sense.

"Jagiya, I'm outside." Zen says. "Please let me in."

You don't waste a second, getting up, and racing to your front door. You swing it open to see Zen, in all he beauty. His signature leather jacket, his motorcycle helmet under his arm. You step aside, letting him in.

You somehow found yourself in bed, Zen laying next to you. You faced each other. He spoke, you're not entirely sure what about, his hands grazing your side and arm. Zen continued talking as you dozed off, a smile adorning his face.

#mysticmessenger #mysme #mystic messenger #zen x mc #zen x reader #mm zen #hyun ryu drabble #hyun ryu x mc #mystic messenger hyun ryu #hyun ryu x reader #hyun ryu #valentine's 2023

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antiochean · 2 years

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bleeding paint - banter #2

Hi! BP is the title of the rewrite of V's route and after ending that I'm working on, where V is not romanced. Posts tagged banter will be just that - drabbles between two characters that you can read in any order and nothing too plot-heavy happens. I do them to get a feel for the characters and they're a lot of fun to write, so I thought I'd share!

This one is mostly Jake. It contains one reference to banter #1 (the remarried parents line), but otherwise works as a standalone.

Pairing: CMC (Jake Park) x Vanderwood

Setting: the cabin, around what would be day 9

Warnings: swear words; baked potatoes heavily featured

Word count: 1,148

[Madeline Miller, Song of Achilles]

"You want to send..." one of Vanderwood's eyebrows is arched as they look at me. "Emails?"

"...Yeah?" I don't get the confusion. Every day I send emails. "I mean, I just wanted to know if one of the laptops would be free any time soon, if not it's absolutely no-"

"No, no, it's not that, it's just that..." Their eyes return to the laptop screen and their right middle finger skillfully goes about its business on the touchpad. "I mean, the cult's still actively looking for us, and you just got out of a hostage situation. People who get out of hostage situations usually want to, like, call their family..." could it be that they know this from actual experience handling these people? It's funny that their highly adrenaline-heavy and probably sketchy profession only comes up when briefly mentioned like this - and, just like that, it's gone again. "Not send emails."

I let out a short, weak chuckle.

"If you knew the amount of emails I had to send while the cult still had me," I slide my fingers underneath my glasses and rub my burning eyes. "You'd be horrified."

"That charity gala they're making you organize?"

"Mostly. But also college stuff. I'm more worried about the college stuff right now."

I have been confronted with the reality that the cult that kidnapped me is making me coordinate a charity party several times before. But I'd never heard those words coming from someone far removed enough from the context to really grasp the absurdity of it.

I feel almost... ashamed? Do I fear Vanderwood will assume I'm partially to blame for the absurdity?

Sometimes I wish I could pretend to be a little more normal in front of them.

I wish we could have met at the grocery store. Gone for the same box of cereal at the same time.

"Go ahead." They push the laptop away from themselves and get up. "I've been meaning to get some more sweet potatoes anyways."

"Yeah man, thanks. Go get your proteins."

They pass me on their way towards the kitchen and I take their seat. I hear the metallic sound of the oven opening up - I open incognito mode - and their voice coming from past the archway.

"Still. Your priorities surprise me sometimes."

"What, cause I'm still doing college stuff right now?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," I employ my mocking tone, "tell me you don't have Asian parents without telling me you don't have Asian parents. If I was still in the cult when the term started, my dad would still give me a hard time about missing it."

The caramel scent of the baked potatoes fills the room as they return.

"Wait - that's right," they take a seat on the table across from me, "you're on spring break right now." Two parted baked potatoes with spoons dug into their orange meat. One for them, the other set down neatly by the laptop. And I try my very best to hide the smile I feel coming up, because - what were their exact words again? 'You're pretty bad at pretending you don't care'? And the response that's been echoing in my mind ever since: it takes one to know one. God. I open my inbox. "Do they still have you do 'college stuff' while you're on break?"

"It's - uh - it's thesis stuff," I reply absent-mindedly while I scroll for the email containing the museum contact information. When I look up from the screen, their eyes are fixed on me, and I realize they're expecting me to continue. "It's - uh..."

"You don't have to tell me." They break eye contact. "I didn't mean to pry."

"No - hey, I pry into your shit all the time. It's only fair. I'm just kinda... slow right now." I blink hard. "Anyways, my thesis. Have I told you what it is?"

"You haven't."

"So basically... I'm building a timeline of autobiographical - I mean, basically it's letters and journal entries from the Vietnam War. Some museums and Estates hold those as like museum shit. Right? God fuck it I'm doing such a bad job at talking right now." I let out a nasal laugh. They smile. Like, proper, both corners of their lips curved smile. Their laugh lines become visible to me for the first time ever - they stretch downwards towards their chin a little, and I have to put conscious effort into not melting into my seat like a shoujo anime girl. "Uhm," Right, words. Verbs, nouns. I find myself rubbing my eye again. "Historical artifacts, is the term I was looking for. To be able to see some of them, you have to schedule viewings in advance. That's what I'm trying to do right now."

"You have to schedule viewings? Never heard of anything like that."

"Yeah. I've already had a couple of those, and the conclusion I've come to is that some families don't want word to get out about the war crimes they were doing just a generation ago."

"I see. You've chosen a pretty lighthearted theme for your thesis."

"Tell me about it." I stretch my arms over my head for a second. Then, I grab my sweet potato. "If I had to choose a topic today I'd have picked something infinitely more fluffy." I was a different person when I started working on this. A completely different person. "I wonder if you could write a thesis about - what're those books you like - A Song of Ice and Fire."

"Several."

A natural silence as we eat. The sun is almost completely covered by the treeline we can see from the window at this point. I put the half-eaten potato back down and wipe my hand on my sweater.

"Gross. Who raised you?"

"Happily remarried middle-class parents."

I rub my eyes - again. I gotta stop doing that, it's probably not good for you. They're really tired and dry and uncomfortable. I'm holding my eyebrows up just to keep them open long enough to finish this goddamn email business.

"Hey, look, you look like shit." Their tone of voice is completely neutral. Two in a row, though? Just say you have a crush on me. "Remember what I told you in the car."

You said I was being stupid and inefficient, and that I needed to take the advice I was giving to V about wearing yourself out while trying to help others. The bottom line was that you want me to eat and sleep enough.

"I do. Thanks, mom."

"You know what? That one was on me. I was too nice." With one elbow on the table, they lean over and seize my sweet potato. "No sweet potato for you."

And, 'you bastard,' I think. Because now i have no choice but to grab your arm to stop you, and I'll be thinking about it for the rest of the week.

#vanderwood #vanderwood x mc #mystic messenger #mysme male!mc #jake park #mm fanfic #drabble #oneshot #vanderwood x male mc #mystic messenger custom mc #my writing #banter #fluff #bleeding paint

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