AN: I've added to this every time I've felt anxious or depressed lately, just a bit at a time. It's just a lil one-shot with hurt/comfort themes but there are possessive Jumin moments just to let you know. Hope you enjoy.

Confetti

Within a beautiful, tastefully furnished penthouse- where wealth practically plastered the walls- a clock ticked monotonously. The faint hum from a fish tank appeared to be the only other noise, but further in, a man with tousled dark hair slept deeply, quiet breaths escaping him.

A frown marred his brow.

Lithe fingers stretched out over the white satin sheets, unconsciously searching. When his palm met nothing but fading warmth, an uneasy breath hissed out from between his teeth.

In the deep recesses of his mind, Jumin Han's consciousness hung suspended in the air. He lay atop countless threads, which stretched out far beyond his sight into hovering darkness.

He didn't feel much alarm about this. The dream was quite familiar. Sometimes revisiting this place could be a comfort to the workaholic. It was easier to slip under the heavy waters of sleep and quiet his constantly turning mind if the expected awaited him. But like everything in his life, the dream had a way of…turning on him.

Those vaguely comforting red threads, that slipped through his fingers like fine hair- tightened. They shifted beneath him, disturbed by something. Jumin's dulled eyes widened as his lungs constricted in sleep. Old anxieties were rising. Something was wrong.

His palm slid over the mattress again. Where-

The threads slid over his wrist, pinning it down. One coiled around his neck- and he yanked at it with his free hand in frustration.

This is my dream, don't be difficult.

Thin material stretched tighter, cutting into skin as more looped around his limbs. Jumin tried to move, but it felt useless to struggle. Blunt nails clawed at the one constricting his throat. Choking, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think rationally.

The bed. Why was the bed empty?

Red threads slipped over his eyes and strung tight, plastering his lashes shut. He grit his teeth, gasping, something clogging his throat now even as the life was squeezed from him. Bereft of air, he scrambled with dizziness, kicking his legs out uselessly. Strips of red crumpled out from within his lungs, spreading up his windpipe like a party trick waiting to be pulled from a sleeve. But it hurt.

His eyes hurt. His hands hurt. Everything-

She's gone.

Jumin launched himself up into an upright position, panting. His chest heaved. Stormy grey eyes stared wide, unseeing. Sweat clung to his brow. His dark bedroom awaited him, but he paid it no mind- swinging his gaze to the empty space beside him.

Throwing the covers off, he left the bed, something drumming hard and fast in his temples. His heart refused to quiet, hammering in sync with the drum until his entire body felt like it were hearing a call to run. Even in the waking world he could still feel the red threads, stretching tight over his torso and throat. They only seemed to worsen the more rooms he checked, finding each of them empty.

She wasn't in the living room or even the kitchen. Elizabeth 3rd raised her head, blinking groggily at his sudden entrance. Jumin paused, muttering quietly for her to go back to sleep.

He turned on his heel, desperation clawing at him. Had she left? No- she couldn't, wouldn't-

Would she?

Jumin ripped open the door to his penthouse, rushing out into the hall. He'd search every damn room of the building if that's what it took.

Logic scattered to the wind, and he took the stairs. Belatedly, he realised he'd left his phone in his room. He should go back. He should pick it up and dial for security to see if she'd left the building. They could check the CCTV footage, or he could take the obvious route and call his fiancée.

But the threads felt like they were contorting around his veins, replacing them with thin, tenuous ribbons. He could barely breathe or think, he just felt an intense need to find. Find that which was precious to him-

Jumin's hand latched onto the threshold of a door. It was only the second floor down from the penthouse. He panted heavily, staring through the open doorway.

She stood before the floor-length windows, bathed in moonlight in her nightgown. She looked out at the cities various lights peacefully. The exquisite form of her registered in Jumin's wild eyes, until it seeped into his consciousness, calming him. He leaned his shoulder against the threshold, slowly trying to collect himself.

"Jumin?"

Her voice had his frayed attention snapping towards her once more. His breathing hitched. The angel with the moon at her back looked concerned. He straightened, padding forward with slow, measured steps.

Nothing in his controlled expression hinted at the explosion of nerves just a few moments ago. He felt quite confident in his appearance. He could put the wild raven locks down to bed hair.

"You were gone," he stated quietly, padding closer. "You should have woken me, my love-"

"After all the paperwork you tackled today?" Amusement clouded her beautiful voice that he clung to like a lifeline. "No way would I disturb your sleep. Go back to bed."

"Not without you," there's almost a growl in his velvety voice, saying it in an exhale. His heart thundered in his chest once more as he finally stopped before her.

She considered him then, the lazy contentment in her expression vanishing. "Jumin…you're shaking. Are you alright?"

Raven hair fell across his brow and into his lashes, slightly obscuring his eyes. Jumin forced himself to relax his shoulders and lift his head. His hands trembled enough that he doesn't trust himself to touch her. "Naturally I'm fine-"

"Did you have another nightmare?" She inquired softly, making his abdomen jump. The threads tightened insidiously around him.

Raising his brows, a signature haughty look entered his gaze. "I've told you before, but it's quite impossible for me to experience such wild fantasies. My mind is too rationale to conjure fanciful things," he forced a quip into his tone, curving his lips up.

Her own eyes turned flat. "Jumin, you draw up plans for cat toys in your spare time. Your mind is very capable of conjuring many weird and wonderful things," she deadpanned, and he was wholly unprepared for her touch as she reached up. Her fingers brushed the raven hair over his brow aside, before stroking gently down his cheek and jaw.

A muscle jumped in his neck. He exhaled in a rush, eyes shaking as powerful feelings warred inside him. He adored her so much. The rush of adrenalin inside him came flooding back. He wanted so badly to just-

"What's wrong? You can tell me," she gently coaxed.

No he couldn't. Because he'd already told her of the red threads and had promised to work on them. She was to be his wife. He acted every day as though he'd been cured, because he'd wanted to be worthy of her.

But the threads were starting to loop around her wrists the longer she touched him. Knew him. Loved him. Soon he'd draw her into his web completely and she'd never escape.

"I love you," Jumin murmured thickly in answer.

Her gaze searched his stoic expression carefully, before his arms came up, pressing his hands against the cool glass on either side of her. Lean muscle shifted as he drew closer, a dusty want brightening the grey of his eyes.

The problem was that he loved her deeply, but was too selfish to cut the threads currently sliding around her shoulders as they hung off him. Shaky breaths danced over her parted lips- before closing the distance in a rush, he claimed her mouth and swallowed her inhale.

He coaxed her mouth to part wider with his tongue, brushing it inside. She tasted vaguely of mint toothpaste, which was unsurprising since they'd retired to bed. Yet even something so mundane sent off his adoration like a burst of fireworks. Jumin kissed her hungrily with fervour, almost bruising in his force. She made a noise when his hips rocked- pinning her against the glass completely, bodies meeting.

Jumin pulled away from her mouth, kissing down her jaw and neck.

"J-ah!" His teeth nipped, scraping harshly over her skin. Firm lips latched onto it then, sucking until red hickeys bloomed over the expanse of her collarbone. "Jumin…" she tried again.

"Yes, my love?" Jumin murmured, he lightly traced the contours of her face, brushing knuckles down her jaw. "Do you desire something from me? I can give you anything, you know. I've said so many times that you can be greedy, so much more greedy. Ask and you shall receive." He muttered, kissing her cheek.

"Or are you feeling it so much that you can't help but say my name?" His voice turned huskier in a matter of seconds, the timbre effectively sending a shiver down her spine.

"N-no, that's not it," she panted, and he jolted when her warmth pressed closer. Belatedly he realised she'd been clinging to him the entire time.

Dark brows drew together, a red thread tightening around his face. "What is it? Was I making a strange expression?"

She shook her head slowly, gazing up at him. "…You look scared."

Belatedly, he realised he was shaking. Or maybe he'd never really stopped.

He eased back just a touch. "That's not- I don't." He denied, feeling stifled.

"Is it those red threads again?" She murmured suddenly. Jumin jolted, a guilty feeling worming its way around his stomach. They hadn't spoken about them In so long. He'd been certain he'd be alright. Nothing had happened to threaten their relationship.

Just one stupid dream and an empty bed.

His beloved sighed, brushing her hand through his silky hair. "Let's go back upstairs." Jumin hesitated to release her until she raised her head and slid her hand to his shoulder. "Jumin," she said in a firmer voice that had his breath faltering.

True he very much enjoyed his control and lifting her against surfaces, binding her hands or worshipping her body. But just a simple change in her tone and the heat of her eyes had him weak in the knees. Like a starving wolf, he eased off her but lingered close, shadowing her steps upstairs.

She took his hand without fear and led the way. When she squeezed his fingers, he felt the desire to rest his forehead against the nape of her neck. Truly, he would never be worthy of her.

Upon reaching the penthouse, the red strings eased their grip around him. Jumin exhaled, blinking when his fiancée led him to the couch, placing her hands on his chest and easing him down to sit. Heat flashed through his bloodstream, causing his palms to glide over her waist, but she batted his hands off. Turning, she padded into the kitchen without another word.

Jumin looked down at his hands, touching the engagement ring on his finger. It had confused the press, who'd assumed he'd already had his wedding in secret. But no, Jumin simply insisted on getting a ring right alongside his soon to be wife, though many men didn't share his feelings.

He just wanted the world to know he belonged to her too. It didn't work one way. She was not his accessory to be switched out the moment another, shiner model came along.

He was not his father.

Hearing footsteps, Jumin raised his head. A short, loud 'bang!' pieced his hearing, and he shrank back, seeing an explosion of colour. Hearing her accompanying quiet laughter and feeling the various crumpled streamers land lightly in his hair, Jumin frowned.

"That was not 'lit,' as the kids would say. I would appreciate a warning next time."

She gave him an exasperated look. "Honey, for the last time, please stop trying to apply internet humour and text speak into regular conversations. Also, it's not a party. I can't just yell 'surprise!' That's just not good etiquette."

"Neither is scaring your intended half to death. What is the meaning of this?"

He watched as she took a seat next to him, bringing out a simple wooden box that she'd tucked under her arm. Opening it up, her lips tugged up when he leaned closer curiously, only to raise a brow when it was empty.

Jumin stilled when slim fingers brushed his hair, attention honing in on her touch. A single blue, crinkled streamer was pulled free from the black strands, held before his gaze.

"There we go, now tell me. If this were a red string of yours, just one thread- what would it be?" She tilted her head.

Swallowing to try and shake the sudden tightness of his throat, Jumin's lashes lowered. The red strings in his mind eased considerably, almost going lax. A warmth spread through his stomach as he stared at her. "The fear of…you spending excess amount of time with my father alone."

Something in her gaze looked a little saddened, but she nodded with acceptance. "Okay, and this one?" She lifted another streamer from his hair.

"Elizabeth III going missing again."

"This?"

"V."

It continued on and on. Fears, worries, insidiously vague anxieties that would never really go away or be resolved but he'd have to deal with. She listened to them all until the last streamer was pulled from his shoulder and placed into the box with the other 'threads.'

"I'm going to keep all these in this box." She murmured, nodding to herself as though it made perfect sense. "And…I'm going to keep it open, but give you the key. So next time if something starts bothering you, but you don't want to outright admit it- just give me the key and we can do this again."

His hands slid over hers, covering them completely while stroking his thumb over her pulse. "But it is surely uncomfortable for you and childish. Not to mention, you're not my therapist."

Steel grey eyes searched her intently, guilt warring with affection. He didn't want to burden her or turn her into his life coach, but she was the only one- the only one, who had seen him completely and not shied away.

She squeezed his hand. "No, I'm not. But I will be your wife," her brows drew together. "I…want you to talk to me."

No sooner than she'd gotten her last word out, soft lips captured her own. She smiled against his mouth and kissed back, allowing him to slide his hand down her leg and lift it onto the couch by his waist, tucking her closer to him. When he pulled away, warm breath fanned over her lips, before he pressed a surprisingly chaste kiss to her forehead. "I adore you."

She grinned, waiting until he released her. "Love you too, now then-" she turned, grabbing something hidden behind her. "Here's a party popper for you, and this is my box."

Jumin blinked when both were shoved into his hands. "What for?"

Her eyes flit away from him to watch the fish. "Silly, you're not the only one who has insecurities. It's my turn now. I have my own box, and my own key, and…my own threads, kind of. But my thing feels more like water. Like everything becomes sluggish and I'm under the surface." She followed a blue fish with her eyes dimly, voice becoming quiet. "When stress mounts up, I feel like I'm slow to respond to it, you know?"

Hearing nothing but silence, her eyes turned downcast. "I-I'm not the perfect angel you see me as, Jumin. This honeymoon phase you're in will pass one day, and you'll see that I'm very much human and flawed."

Instead of rebuking her immediately as she'd expected, his fiancée jumped and looked up when a loud 'bang!' deafened her ears briefly. Colours rained down on her upturned face, catching in her hair. Heat touched her cheeks when Jumin loomed close.

With a feather light touch, he removed a pink streamer from her hair, playing dirty by briefly caressing the skin of her throat. "…What is this one?"

She gave a tremulous smile. "The fear of disappointing you."

Jumin wrapped his arms around her, bringing her in close and effectively getting himself covered in her confetti.

"That would never happen, my love."