゜yang jungwon x reader(ft. jay & heeseung); supernatural au, vampire au, 90s au.
in winter's wake is the absence of light, and it takes jungwon a walk through town and a conversation with you to realize that maybe one can find warmth in the darkness.
includes: angst (like,,, a lot), vampire!reader, gn!reader, vampire!jungwon, vampire!jay, mentions of a physical attack, mentions of blood & death, is hinted that heeseung is missing. please read at your own discretion.
notes: a bit of context before you dive in! reader, jay & heeseung are family friends who grew up together within a hidden society of vampires who aim to abstain all brethren from committing malicious intents (the diner at the beginning is where they hold their meetings); jungwon is reader's schoolmate & jay's best friend who happens to be unluckily bitten & turned. if you guys have any more q's pls feel free to drop an ask/comment! hope you enjoy~
wordcount: 2.0k
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OCTOBER 1997.
The sensation of the worn leather seats against Jungwon's skin is familiar—so achingly familiar that there's a glimpse of him and his family eating in this diner, in this very same booth, all cheese-coated smiles and crescent eyes. There was that time when he was twelve, too; jests between childhood friends and bacon fries being hurled at unsuspecting faces.
He waits for that small scintilla of warmth in his heart, for joy to take its home in between his ribs once he'd unearthed this forgotten chamber of memories, like it always did when he looked back on summers long past; but dread swims in his stomach, ebbs in his veins because he wishes he could go back, wishes he'd stayed home on that very night, some part of him wishes he'd pressed his parents harder to let him go that highschool in the city so he would never have seen this town again and—
"If you stare at that wall any longer you're going to burn a hole right through it."
He starts at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening as he looks from the peeling cream wallpaper to your figure struggling to carry a pile of books, and he sinks back into his seat, saying to himself in the quietest murmur, "I can do that?"
You hear it, though, and a mixture of a scoff and a chuckle escapes your mouth as you hug your textbooks to your chest, moving backwards to close the backdoor where you entered and nearly tripping over a rug as the words slip through your teeth unheeded: "We're— ow, shit— vampires, Jungwon, not Superman."
Amid your struggle in closing the door, you don't notice how the silence deepened inside the empty diner, how echoes of laughter from bright-eyed children outside the building roll off the slippery black-and-white tiles and rattles Jungwon's chest as his hand shoots up to brush against the area beneath his jaw, and he's never felt so... hollow. You stop. Because there's something wrong. You turn and look at him, cursing yourself stupid, stupid Y/N; haven't you learned?
