Mystic Messenger x Reader One-Shots

✧ Sick Day (Sick!Jumin Han)

Requested by @peachdaeki. I'm sorry this took soooo long to write but I hope you like it because I think it's really freaking cute >w<

Requests are still closed, but if anyone has any ideas for some Zen or Seven or V one-shots I'd love to hear them, since there is a noticeable lack of them in this book.

✧

"Right, paracetamol, throat lozenges, tissues... I think that's everything," you mumbled under your breath, rummaging through your bag as you stood outside Jumin's penthouse, about to press the buzzer. He'd called early that morning to let you know that he was sick and in need of someone to check in on him. Why he couldn't have asked one of his many employees was a mystery. Instead, he had given you the day off in the office to go and look after him at home instead. You were pretty sure he even had own his nurse, so why exactly did he need you?

All the same, you pressed the buzzer and waited for the gate to open. Once you'd been allowed through, flashing your badge to bypass all of the security, you took the elevator up to the floor where his living accommodation was situated. As the lift shuddered upwards, your stomach started flipping with nervous apprehension. You saw Jumin every day at work in the office, but it wasn't often you visited him at his own home.

Smoothing down your blouse and checking once again you had everything you might need, you knocked twice on his bedroom door after being escorted from the elevator by a man in a suit. You heard a faint grunt of approval and pushed open the door, poking your head through. "Director Han?" You called nervously. The room beyond was very luxurious, decked with a glass chandelier and marble dressers, but something about the place felt untouched, unloved. It was all for show and not for comfort.

"Are you going to stand there and gawk or-" his voice was broken mid-way by a cough that fumbled up from his chest. You bit your lip when you realised you'd forgotten cough medicine.

Not bothering to respond, you shuffled further into the room and closed the door behind you, your ears turning pink when you became aware of the fact that you were alone with your boss in his bedroom. Dismissing the stupid thought, you finally turned to look at him. He was in bed with the covers tucked so far up to his chin you couldn't tell if he was even wearing clothes or not. Not like you needed to be thinking about that either. With an embarrassed cough, you walked over to his bed.

"Director Han? Uh, how are you feeling? I brought medicine and tissues-"

"What?" he interrupted, sniffing loudly and fishing a tissue from the box by his bed. "I don't need any of that stuff."

You blinked slowly, looking at him from beneath your lashes. His face was chalky and glistening with sweat; giving him an almost feverish look. "Then, uh, with all due respect, Director Han, why am I here?"

The man looked at you with droopy eyes, his sclera lined with red veins. "I wanted some company," he said, his voice gritty and low, most likely the result of a sore throat. "It gets lonely up here."

You stared at him wordlessly, your hand resting on your bag, pouring over his words. He wanted you to keep him company? Then you composed yourself and cleared your throat. "Mr. Han, I think you have a fever-"

"Yes, yes, I know," he said, waving his arm in an offhand way. The cover fell down from his neck to reveal he was still in his pyjamas. Red and blue plaid. "I've already had the doctor examine me. Just a mild case of flu. I'll be back on my feet in a day or two. Plenty of rest and drink lots of water and all that," he said dismissively, stifling another cough.