Hii so like could you either each member reaction or a drabble with woozi (whatever you're more comfortable writing) being sub and you riding them/him and making them cum over and over until they are milked up dry and cannot physically cum anymore
riding seventeen until they cant physically cum anymore (getting milked dry)
WARNINGS: smut, strong overstimulation, cock riding, sensitive content, may not be comfortable to some audiences, you're warned.
seungcheol: starts giggling. not in a “haha that tickles” way but in an “i am so fucked out of my mind i don’t even know what’s happening anymore” way. GETS IN DENIAL TOO!!. like, he’s still gripping your hips, trying to thrust up into you even though his dick is not responding. “no, i can—i can go again, baby, just—just gimme a sec—” except it’s been five minutes, and all he’s done is twitch pathetically underneath you. when you tell him he’s done, he gets all pouty, brows furrowed, whispering, “fuck… you really drained me dry?” like he just realized he isn’t the tank he thought he was.
jeonghan: not even moving anymore. fully limp, sprawled out, arms above his head, legs twitching, eyes hazy as he blinks at the ceiling. broken. defeated. ruined. you squeeze him and there’s nothing—just a weak, pitiful little tremor. “honey, i think you killed me,” he mutters, voice raspy as hell, before exhaling real deep, like he just finished a marathon. gives up completely, just lays there, blinking at you like you just rewired his entire system.
joshua: on the verge of tears. whimpering. shaking. clinging. you try to grind down on him again, but his hips jolt so hard, you swear he’s about to short-circuit. “baby—oh my god—i cant—icanticanticanticanicant” and it’s the most broken, high-pitched plea you’ve ever heard. his hands weakly push at your thighs, but they have no strength.
junhui: prob laughing in disbelief. giggling, eyes red and watery, his head lolled to the side, looking at you with this dazed-ass grin. “oh my god, i’m so done,” he breathes, chest heaving, abs clenching, still twitching with aftershocks. you grind down just a little, just to test, and his whole body spasms, a wrecked whimper escaping him before he laughs even harder, shaking his head like, “nah, babe, you actually ended me. oh? i cant feel my legs? ”
hoshi: BRO IS CLINGING FOR LIFE. good luck with the bruises, because he is full-on latching onto you, fingers digging into your skin, forehead pressed to your shoulder, legs raising in desperate spasms all the time, entire body trembling. “baby, baby, i—i can’t—oh my god—i swear~~~” his voice sooooo broken, and every time his dick twitches uselessly, he lets out the softest little sob, hiding his face in your neck like he’s so embarrassed that you just milked him out of existence.
wonwoo: completely unresponsive. eyes glazed over. mouth open. chest barely rising. looks like he just got hit by a bus. his arms are flopped uselessly at his sides, and when you move, his thighs twitch involuntarily. you squeeze around him and nothing happens—no pulse, no twitch, just nothing. “holy fuck,” he mutters like he just got his soul snatched straight out of his body.
woozi: shaking like a fucking leaf. wrists trembling, legs trembling, hands trembling, chin trembling, abs trembling, breath completely uneven, looking up at you like you just broke him beyond repair. “b-baby, i—i don’t have anything left—” and his voice cracks so hard, you actually feel a little bad. he tries to lift his hips, tries to respond to you, but his body refuses, and when you tell him it’s over, he just collapses back against the sheets. he's not a biiiig fan of aftercare, but that night, he will accept everything you can to repair his pieces together.
minghao: fully dissociating. bro is just staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, hands twitching, looking like he just had an out-of-body experience. you say his name and it takes him five full seconds to even register it. you squeeze around him, testing, and his head instantly tilts back, a wrecked groan falling from his lips, but there’s nothing left. “nah, that’s it, babe,” he breathes, completely spent, just laying there in absolute surrender.
mingyu: whimpering so much, you actually think he might start crying. clinging onto you, lips trembling, eyes wet, entire body twitching. “i—i can’t cum anymore—...?” and his voice breaks mid-sentence, you don't even know if its an affirmation or a quesiton bc he literally can’t. when you try to grind down one more time, his hips buck so hard, he yells, then collapses back, panting, eyes rolling back into his head.
seokmin: fully overstimulated beyond belief. whimpering, shaking, eyes glassy, hands weakly grabbing at your hips like he’s trying to slow you down but has no strength left. “b-baby, please—!!!” when you finally stop, he physically melts into the bed, body slack, chest heaving, just laying there shaking and completely ruined.
seungkwan: full-body twitching. thighs shaking, abs twitching, arms weakly draped over his face, hiding his wrecked expression. “fuck, baby, i’m—i’m done—” he gasps, his voice hoarse as hell, sounding like he just ran up a mountain. when you finally let him go, he just lets out the deepest, shakiest sigh, body going completely slack.
vernon: completely unresponsive part 2. bro is just laying there, eyes blank, mouth slightly open, looking like he just got his entire EXISTENCE reset. you say his name, and nothing. you touch his thigh, and nothing. when he finally blinks, he just tilts his head towards you, chest still rising and falling rapidly “you actually fucked me dry.”
chan: thought he could handle it but by the fourth orgasm, he was whimpering, “no more, no more—”, so now, he is completely silent. doesn’t even try to talk, just stares at you, mouth slightly open, eyes red form crying. he just lays there, staring at you like you just fried his last brain cell.
tell him how you love his cock, how big he is, how it hits so deep inside you. tell him “right there,” and “keep going,” and to do it “just like that.”
stroke his possessive side too. tell him no one else can fuck you like he can, no one else can stretch you out so good, no one else can make you cum like he does. tell him that your pussy is made for him only.
be loud for him. god, he loves hearing you moan. say his name, beg for more, sob, whimper, gasp for him. don’t be shy about it. it’ll only be a matter of time before you butter him up enough to make him cum.
jeonghan —; beg
everyone knows yoon jeonghan likes having people at his mercy. he gets a little unhinged when he has power over someone—so imagine what he gets like when you’re writhing on his cock, gasping his name so sweetly, your eyes glimmering with tears as he fucks you hard.
“what is it, pretty?” he asks, and like the devil he is, he slows the movement of hips, pulling out of you until his tip barely kisses your also weeping hole. it’s torture for him too, to leave the hot, tight haven that is your cunt, but to him it’s worthwhile.
“wanna cum, hannie,” you whimper.
“hm… i don’t know if i should let you yet,” he says, dipping back inside just an inch. years of him being yours means you don’t miss the tiny strain in his voice that betrays his perfectly collected demeanour.
“please, hannie, please, please, please, let me cum. i’ve been so good,” you sob, squeezing your thighs where they rest on his hips.
you watch as a switch flips in his eyes within a millisecond. a grin lights up his face and he shudders, and he’s sliding back inside you, fucking in and out of you harder and faster than before. safe to say it doesn’t take long for either of you to cum after that.
joshua —; make eye contact
his pretty doe eyes make staring into them your favourite thing in the world, and if you asked him his favourite pastime, he’d tell you that it was gazing into your irises.
it’s also his biggest weakness. from the way you’ve got your mouth wrapped around his dick, throat gagging even though you’re only halfway down it, joshua feels his sanity slipping away. his fingers curl into the bedsheets below as he watches you work him, revels in the warmth of your tongue sliding up and down his shaft.
when your eyes flick up to meet his he doesn’t stand a chance. not with how glimmering they are, brimming softly with tears, yet swimming with adoration. with worship.
heat washes over his whole body, he’s gasping, and the salty warmth of his release pools on your tongue.
jun —; put his fingers in your mouth
when junhui gets inside you he has a one-track mind. he becomes rapt with pleasure, drunk from the warm squeeze of your pussy around him, focused on nothing but the sensation of you, the sight of you under him, the sound of you in his ears.
the effect you have on him is dangerous, because you’re equally obsessed with him as he is with you, and you’re not afraid to show him.
and you love his hands, he knows you do—knows how you love his slender fingers and their soft touches all over you, inside you. your brain is cloudy, fogged by lust when you take him by his wrist and bring his fingers to your mouth. your eyes sparkle as your lips wrap around his index finger, your soft tongue swirling around it.
jun’s mouth parts with awe, his eyes growing round. a second later, he stills inside you with a gasp of your name, like he’s praying to you, all the while you’re sucking on his finger like a devil.
hoshi —; scratch him
he’s a little bit of a freak, and a masochist too.
when he’s got you folded in half, hitting all the right spots inside you, you cling to him in every way you can—fingers grabbing at his biceps, his shoulders. one particular stroke of his hips has you squealing.
your nails sink into his skin, crying out his name as you rake them down the toned planes of his back. the second you do, soonyoung is grunting, hips stilling, cock twitching as a sticky warmth suddenly floods your cervix.
the worst part about it is how he always has the stupidest, most shit-eating smug grin on his face when he examines your damage in the bathroom after, and you know that if he could, he would post the selfies he takes in the mirror all over instagram. what’s even worse though? seeing your marks makes him hard again.
wonwoo —; cry
you’re such a sensitive little thing and wonwoo adores you. one orgasm on his fingers and you’re already overstimulated—“but baby, i haven’t even put my cock in you yet,” he’ll coo.
like it’s your fault you have a boyfriend with skilled fingers and a skilled tongue and who knows you inside and out like the back of his hand, who knows where to touch you and how hard and what pace makes you writhe the most.
by the time he does get inside you, you’re gasping and whining and clawing at him, tears springing to your eyes because he’s so big and so deep, but the stretch is so addictive that it’s dizzying. his voice is low and husky as he mutters to you a mixture of teases and praise, calls you his pretty girl and then laughs at sensitive you are, pretends he’s not on the verge of coming from the sound of your choked gasps.
your belly starts to pulse with that familiar heat and by then you’re keening for him, whimpering a mixture of his name and endless pleas as it starts to become too much. your sobs go straight to his cock, and it’s only a matter of time before he reaches his climax, and his gasps of pleasure harmonise with your own cries.
woozi —; pull his hair
he’s been growing his hair out. after all your begging, he finally listened. in a way, though, it’s backfired a little on you, because the longer it gets the more insane you become. and the thing is you never expected him to let it get to his shoulders—and still he doesn’t plan on cutting it. well, good. you would kill him if he did.
when his face is between your legs you’re nothing short of a feral animal—your hips bucking wild against his mouth, your legs trembling on his shoulders, your fingers, of course, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. he makes you whine when he pulls away from your needy, sticky cunt to tsk at you, tells you to cut it out and keep your hands to yourself. (it’s because he’s about to cream his pants).
when he bends you in half beneath him, ruts into you hard and fast and relentless, you need leverage. your hands land on the back of his neck, fingertips grazing at his roots, then one slam of his hips into yours has his cock bumping against the most sensitive spot inside you and your grasping at his hair and crying his name so desperately. no longer can he hold back, strained groans slipping past his lips as he lets go inside you.
dokyeom —; hold his hand
a sentimental sweetheart, seokmin is an utter romantic who thinks that being inside of you, whether in your mouth or your pussy, is intimacy in its purest form. now imagine showing him just how much more intimate things can get.
he’s losing his mind at the feeling of your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, the way you swallow his length down making him see stars. he can’t bare to look at you—he needs to focus on taking deep breaths so that he doesn’t cum straight down your throat. then he feels you grabbing at one of his hands, lacing your fingers together, and no amount of deep breathing can stop him from releasing.
and when he fucks you it’s no different—it’s him in near tears, whimpering your name between incoherent words over and over, and as soon as you take his hand in yours and your fingers wrap around his, there’s nothing else he can do but succumb to his own pleasure.
mingyu —; take control
he’s big and strong; strong enough to put you into whatever position he wants, to make you cum at his command, to do just as he pleases with you.
but that’s exactly why he likes it when you slap him around a little.
you can’t exactly bend him into doggy or use your weight to keep him pinned to the mattress, but you can sit yourself pretty on his cock and ride him teasingly slow. you can tell him he’s not allowed to touch you or you’ll stop moving. you can tell him to kiss you, to go slower, to go harder.
you can sit up and put a hand around his throat, still your hips, and tell him he can fuck you himself if he wants to cum. and he’ll do just that—and as soon as you utter the words, he’s gone, whining out curses as he fills you up in white, warm spurts.
minghao —; whisper in his ear
minghao often tells you how he adores your voice. when you talk to him he’s entranced, and he’s always been more of a listener than a talker, and it’s perfect because you always have so much to say, and minghao will listen to every last word of yours.
your voice—minghao’s kryptonite, his achilles’ heel, his undoing and, oh, the way you moan for him when he’s got you on his cock is enough to make his heart stop beating. the perverted part of him wishes he could record you, hide the file away on his phone and listen to you when he’s overseas and he can’t call you. maybe he’ll ask you about that, if he can find the courage.
the final blow is when you’re getting close. you lean in, right next to his ear, so close that your breath sends shivers along his skin. “please, hao, i’m so close,” you whisper, yet you still sound so desperate and depraved. “you are too, right? cum for me, please. i’ll cum for you too.”
so he does just that—minghao gives in and lets his orgasm wash over him, fingertips drawing circles on your clit until mere moments later he hears the sound of your own cresting pleasure and he feels himself getting hard again.
seungkwan —; wrap your legs around him
it’s a fact that seungkwan loves to be close to you. if he could, he would crawl inside of your skin and live in your heart. but since he can’t, constant physical touch is the next best thing.
he likes to think he has relatively good self-control…most of the time. like when he’s buried to the hilt inside you, he’s incredible at keeping in rhythm, fucking into you at the most perfect pace for both you and him, hitting the spot that makes your back arch off the bed.
somehow he never sees it coming—when your arms are snaked around his neck and you’re holding onto him for dear life as he takes you to heaven, and your legs wrap around his waist so that you can pull him in impossibly deep. then you bring his face to yours, and you have the most irresistible little pout on your face when you make your request. “cum inside me, seungkwannie?”
and it’s not like he has much choice with the way you’ve trapped him inside of you, but that’s the very reason why the next second he’s pumping you full, because when it’s you, how is he supposed to have any self-control?
vernon —; touch yourself
it’s not like vernon can last long in general. he thinks you’re the hottest thing alive and he’s so enamoured with you that it’s too much for him sometimes, but you best believe he’ll put his all into holding out just for you.
there are times, however, where he’s just a man. and what’s a man to do when he has a goddess riding his dick? when your tits look so pretty, bouncing in his face, when you have that fucked out look in your eyes, when you feel like heaven and hell all at once?
and what the fuck is a man to do when your hand drifts down between your legs, to your aching clit, and your fingers start to rub it in circles, or when your other hand grasps one of your tits and tugs at one of your own nipples? and your sweet pussy clenches around him so tight when you do, clamps down on him in an hot, wet embrace, so what else can he do but cum?
dino —; say ‘i love you’
another sweet, sentimental boy. lee chan is head over heels for you, enamoured, obsessed, smitten, infatuated with you… the list of things he is around you is endless.
it shows in the way he fucks you—always takes his time with you, never rushes taking you apart. every touch of his is intentional, meant to set you both ablaze. when he eats you out to prep you for his cock, he has to try not to cum in his pants from how pretty you are.
where he really doesn’t stand a chance however is when he’s bottomed out inside you, as close as he can possibly be with you—so close you’re practically one. the sweetest sounds fall from your lips, spurring on his expert thrusts.
his forehead is plastered to yours, the pair of you revelling in one another’s sweat and gasps for air. “i love you,” you confess gently, and chan falls over the edge of pleasure not a moment later.
He’s always been a fighter and a protector in every lifetime. No matter how hard he tries evil always follows you in one way or another. You have no clue who he is until you come face to face with the man, warding off the evil from your dreams. You find him in an abandoned warehouse fighting in an illegal boxing match. The man in the ring winning instantly captures your attention in every way possible.
˙⋆✮ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): romance, smut, angst
˙⋆✮ 𝐚𝐮(𝐬): underground boxing au, reincarnation au, egyptian god au, soulmate au
˙⋆✮ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 14k
˙⋆✮ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit adult content, violence, gang activity, fighting, injuries, blood, mc has a shitty ex that won’t leave he alone and is harassing her and practically stalking her, attempted murder, sex work, and stripping.
˙⋆✮ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected p in v, creampie, fooling around in the shower, hand job, choking, body worship, couch sex, riding, fingering, they’re both kinda desperate, lots of making out, nipple play Nicknames: baby, bunny (hers)
˙⋆✮ 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw
˙⋆✮ 𝐚𝐧: this was written for ‘Sand of Time’ hosted by @sailorsoons & @daechwitatamic thank you @aeristudios for helping me figure out this story. Thank you for beta reading @thestraybunny. Divider by @/saradika-graphics.
🎧: kiss it better - rhianna | dying for you - charli xcx | do i wanna know - the arctic monkeys | shrike - hoizer | chains of love - charli xcx
Every single existence he's ever had, he's been a fighter. He's lived too many lives times to count. His life as the god Bes makes him a protector. He's lived so many lives protecting people and warding off evil spirits. There’s another repeating situation when it comes to every one of his lives, you. He is put on earth in every life to protect; women, children, and you.
This life is no different. His weekend nights are spent in a warehouse on the dark side of town. This time he wears a mask to hide his identity. The crowd knows him as Bes.
In every lifetime he has you. He sees you in his dreams, and he knows you see him in yours. He counts down the days until he can finally meet you again.
ONE: NOT ALWAYS PROUD OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE.
Too many nights you spend working in this hell hole of a club. This place is located on the rougher side of town, and a seedy owner who works with very powerful men. The front looks like a normal bar, but through a pair of metal doors the darker and scandalous things unfold. On the stage there is a pole and girl who is dancing to the beat of a sultry song. You've found yourself up there too many times. It's been a couple months since you've stripped. Recently you've been working as a waitress. You're dressed just as scantilly as the girls who walk on that stage. Dressed in a tiny dress with no bra, and a pair of sky high heels.
With a tray in hand you're walking from table to table taking orders. Walking over to the bar you find your favorite bar tender Jeonghan.
"Table ten wants an old fashioned."
"Bunny, why are you here tonight?" Jeonghan is only one of two people you're close with here. He's been calling you Bunny since he met you. He says you're cute like a bunny.
"I'm working." He's asking you why you're here, because this is the ninth day you've been here in a row.
"Why aren't you taking any days off?" Jeonghan asks, as he's making the drink.
"I'm saving money so I can take a self defense class."
"Is Dae still threatening you?” Jeonghan knows all about you ex. Dae and you dated for two years, and broke up over eight months ago and since your break up, he has been harassing you. He's connected to the gangs that run this city and isn't someone to mess with. Over the last two months he's been basically stalking you.
"He won't leave me alone." Jeonghan sits the drink on the counter.
"Bunny, I know a guy. His name is Junhui. He's a fighter and if I tell him about Dae, I know he'll teach you to fight. He's got his own gym and everything."
"Okay." You know that Jeonghan wouldn't send you to a sketchy man, to teach you to fight.
The night goes on in a blur. You keep waiting tables, and you can't count the amount of men who have tried to touch you.
The doors swing open, and you see Dae and a few gang friends walk in. Immediately you feel sick. You glance over at the bar and see Jeonghan watching carefully.
Looking over by the stage you see your boss signaling you towards their table. You shake your head and try to walk away, attempting to rush backstage.
Someone grabs your hand, and immediately you know it's Dae. "Baby, why are you running away?"
Stopping dead in your tracks. You look at him, trying not to show any emotions. "Let go of me."
"If I let go, you'll run away, and we need to talk."
You groan, pulling your shoulder back attempting to get away. "I have nothing to say to you."
"Baby don't be like that."
"Let go of me." You seethe.
This isn't the first time he's shown up. He's just never been brave enough to touch you like this. When you were with him he definitely sucked and was an asshole. He was the definition of a shitty boyfriend, but he never laid a hand on you.
You pull forward quickly, before he drops your hand. You look up to see Mingyu, the body guard holding your ex. "You don't touch the girls, asshole." Mingyu pulls him back.
Dae throws his elbow back attempting to hit Mingyu. Except he doesn’t stand a chance at even moving the mountain that is Mingyu.
'Time to leave, buddy." You look behind him to see another bouncer kicking out Dae's friends.
"Baby, you can't avoid me. We will talk." Mingyu drags him out of the club. Shaking your head rush to the back. Your eyes brim with tears, you're overwhelmed and caught off guard.
The door to the back opens and Mingyu steps into the back. Reaching up you push away your tears. Mingyu silently watches you for a second before he holds open his arms. You don't say anything, you step into his arms. He holds you close and rubs your back.
Since you started working here you've grown close with Mingyu. The bouncer has become like a brother to you. He always goes out of his way to protect you.
"Bun, you should go home." He's picked up on using the same nicknames for you that Jeonghan uses.
"I need the money." You pull away from his hold.
"Jeonghan told me about his friend who is a fighter. I think you should talk to him."
"Okay."
-
The night comes to an end finally. You're sitting at the bar with Mingyu counting your money. Most the girls are in the back packing up, and some waitresses are heading home. You don't plan on leaving until Jeonghan and Mingyu can walk out with you. Jeonghan is working on cleaning up the bar. He doesn't have too much more to do before he's good to go.
"Bunny, Junhui has a fight tomorrow at the warehouse on twenty-third tomorrow night. Why don't you go with me tomorrow and you can meet him?"
"Okay." At this point you want to know how to protect yourself against Dae.
"Should you guys be going to an illegal fight night?" Mingyu asks, looking up from his phone.
It's probably not the best idea, but you're desperate. If Jeonghan thinks this Junhui guy can help you, you're willing to go meet him.
"I'll keep her safe." Jeonghan responses.
Mingyu sighs, and rolls his eyes. "Just call me, you guys need me. I have a date, but if things go south I can meet up with you guys."
TWO: THE MIDNIGHT MAN AND THE GIRL WHO HAUNTS HIS DREAMS
It's late at night when Jeonghan picks you up. He takes you to the sketchy part of town that's filled with warehouses.
Based on the amount of people hanging out outside smoking, the loud music that is pulsating all you would swear this is a night club.
Lacing his fingers with yours Jeonghan pulls you inside. You weave your way through the crowd where all the noise is coming from. Pushing your way through he brings you over to one of the corners for the fighters. A tall man dressed in very fashionable street wear greets Jeonghan.
"Minghao, this is my friend _____."
Minghao nods in your direction. "You're the one Bes is going to teach to fight?" You've never heard the name Bes before, you thought you were meeting up with someone named Junhui.
"Bes?"
"That's the only name he goes by here." Minghao responds.
"Oh."
"How is Chan doing?" You assume Chan is one of the boys in the middle of the empty space fighting.
"He's doing good, he's winning."
You watch as the smaller of the two men, seems to be winning. He’s getting a few good punches in. This warehouse is packed, the sounds of booming base music, and the loud cheers rattle your chest. Looking around you see a mix of people like you, struggling to get by and people who are dressed in high luxury brands.
Minghao pats Jeonghan on the back. “You should go see Bes before the fight.”
Jeonghan takes your hand leading you towards the back. Standing at the door you see a buff man in a suit blocking the back door.
“Hao told us Bes wants to see us.”
The bouncer glances passed both of you. Turning back, you see Minghao nod his head, the bouncer steps aside. The backroom is practically empty other than a couple folding chairs, and a few duffle bags. In the middle of the room you see a man wearing a face mask covering from below his eyes down. He’s clearly warming up. The other man is holding up gloves helping him practice.
“Soonyoung.” Jeonghan says releasing your hand.
Immediately the boys stop practicing. Soonyoung walks over and gives Jeonghan a hug. The man who was referred to as Bes stares at you silently. Slowly he tilts his head as if he’s studying you. Without thinking you step closer to him. There is something about him that you’re immediately drawn to. He doesn’t move, he’s locked in place watching you.
The door you walked through swings opens. Another man dressed in an expensive suit steps into the back.
“Bes, it’s your turn. Kick Parks ass. I have a lot of money riding on this fight.” The man shouts before walking out.
Jeonghan grabs your hand pulling you towards him. “We’ll meet you guys back here after the fight.”
The man behind the mask doesn’t say anything, he just watches as Jeonghan leads you back out the door.
Walking back into the warehouse things feel different. EDM music is booming through the speakers. Jeonghan leads you back over towards Minghao. You look to the other side of the ring to see a tall man with a similar build as Junhui. He’s covered in tattoos with dark hair.
The speaker crackles as someone shouts, “Bes!” The room instantly erupts. Soonyoung walks out next to Junhui, with the man in the suit flanking behind them. Junhui shirtless, wearing black cargo pants, and no shoes. Your eyes are instantly captivated by his beautiful body. He stops next to you and nods before walking to the center of the empty space.
Jeonghan never releases your hand as the fight starts. The bass is booming as they go blow for blow fighting. It’s clear that Junhui who everyone refers to as Bes is a very skilled fighter. The other fighter lands a solid kick on Junhui ribs, sending him shuffling back. Your eyes never leave him. He takes another step back gathering himself, before launching towards Park. With every single punch Junhui is getting the upper hand.
Park doesn’t give up though, he keeps giving Junhui firm kicks to the ribs. Junhui gets a strong kick to his jaw, sending Park down to the floor. The crowd erupts the moment he hits the concrete.
The same person that was dressed in the expensive suit walks into the middle and declares Bes the winner. Junhui dips his head, before walking back to back. The man in the suit hands Minghao a huge stack of money. Minghao gives him a curt nod, before him and Soonyoung follow Junhui to the back. Jeonghan squeezes your hand before dragging you off. Jeonghan locks the door as you step into the to room.
“Is it locked?” Minghao asked.
“Yeah.” Jeonghan says before releasing your hand.
Junhui takes off his face mask. He’s maybe ten feet from you. He takes a deep breath as he stares at you. For years you’ve had dreams of the man who is standing in front of you. Maybe it’s not him, but you feel like you know him.
“Jeonghan, who is this?” Junhui finally speaks.
“This is ___, she’s the girl who I mentioned.”
Reaching into his duffle bag, he pulls out a black hoodie. He pulls it on slowly, clearly sore from the fight. “You need to learn self defense right?”
“Yeah.” You finally speak.
“Why does she need to learn to fight?” Soonyoung asks.
Minghao seems like he’s barely paying attention. He’s more focused on counting the wad of money he was handed.
“My ex won't leave me alone."
“Fuck.” Minghao chimes in.
“The dude is an asshole. He won’t leave her alone at work now. Mingyu and I are trying to protect her, but we can’t always be there.” You’re scared of your ex, but at least you know at work and whenever you’re with them, they’ll keep you safe.
“I’ll teach you to fight.” He steps closer to you. “I’ll help keep you safe.” You don’t understand right now, but Junhui will do anything to protect you.
“I appreciate it.” He steps closer and instantly stops in his tracks.
“Jeonghan can give you my contact info.”
“Okay.”
THREE: A SPARK LIKE YOU’VE NEVER FELT BEFORE
The address Junhui gave you is a gym on the west side of town. It’s about a twenty minute walk from your place.
Standing outside the gym, you notice there are brick apartments above. Looking at the address again you realize that it’s for one of the apartments. You see a glass door. Walking over to it you pull it open. His building is nice, it definitely is newer than yours. Walking up the stairs you see the numbers and walk two doors to the left.
You aren’t quite sure why you’re nervous. You give the black painted wood door two firm knocks. You step back and wait. It only takes about thirty seconds before Minghao opens the door.
“Hello.” He gives you a small wave, before stepping aside.
You give him a polite nod. Stepping inside you look around. The apartment is an open concept for the kitchen and living area. There looks to be a small hallway where you assume the bedrooms are located. The walls are a mix of brick, and grey paint. The floor is a dark hard wood with a big green rug in the living area.
“Jun is in his room. Let me go grab him.” Minghao excuses himself, leaving you go awkwardly stand in the living room. You keep looking around, taking in the details of their shared space.
Looking over at the hallway you watch as both boys walk out. Minghao is now wearing a coat. He gives you another nod.
“I’m going to meet up with Chan and Soonyoung.” The front door clicks and suddenly you’re alone with the familiar man.
He’s dressed more casually today. He’s wearing a black tank top that hugs his toned body, and a pair of black joggers. His hair looks fluffy, almost as if his hair has been freshly washed.
“I feel like I should properly introduce myself.” You realize that at the warehouse he only really learned your name. “I’m ___, you can call me bunny if you want. Jeonghan and Mingyu call me that.”
He smiles at your cute nickname. “Bunny?”
“Yeah. It’s a long story, but the short version is, according to Jeonghan, I’m cute like a bunny.”
“I’m Junhui. My friend call me Jun, and you can as well. Whenever I’m fighting I go by Bes. If you ever watch me fight again, or you see me in a mask please just call me Bes.”
“Why Bes?”
“Bes is a god who is a protector. I’ve lived my life trying to protect women and children.” Something about him feels so safe. You don’t know him, but you feel as if you’ve always known him.
“I like that.”
He steps closer to you. “I’ll teach you to protect yourself, and I’ll protect you.”
“Thank you.”
“Let me take you to the gym downstairs. I own it with Hao.”
He leads you to the door. He slips on a pair of sneakers and grabs a set of keys from the bowl that’s sitting on a table by the door.
Neither of you say anything as you head downstairs. He walks up to the door and slowly opens it. Stepping inside you see some fighting equipment. It’s clear based on the fight you watched, and Junhui’s build that he's a trained fighter.
He leaves you standing on the padded mat to look around, walking over to the box and pulls out gloves. He walks back over to you. “Do you know how to fight?”
“I know how to punch someone.”
“Do you know how to defend yourself?”
“Not really.”
He hands you the gloves. “Put these on.”
You put them on with his help. He moves so you’re standing in the middle of the padded floor. Holding his bare hands up, he nods. “Alright, punch my hands.”
“Won’t that hurt you?”
“I take punches for a living. No offense you don’t hit as hard as the men I fight.”
You throw a punch at his left hand and then his right now.
“Good job, now do it again.”
For about two hours he trains you on fighting and defense. You’re absolutely exhausted, and sitting on the floor with your back against the wall. Junhui is sitting next to you. He holds out a bottle of water. You take a huge gulp of water.
“You did good.” He says.
“How are you still standing after fighting? I’m exhausted.” You lean your head back against the wall.
“I’ve trained for this for a long time.”
You take another big sip of the water. “What made you become an underground fighter?”
He pushes his fingers through his hair. “I’ve always been good at fighting. I realized early on when I would fight I would get this adrenaline rush. Fighting in that warehouse just became quick and easy money for me.”
“Oh.”
He grabs his own water and takes a big sip. “I feel like I should get to know you. Where do you work?”
“I work at the same club Jeonghan does.” Junhui has never been to a club, but what he has gathered from Soonyoung and Jeonghan it sounds like it's a club and a strip club. He’s not sure what your job is, but he doesn’t care if you’re a stripper.
“What do you do there?”
“I’m a waitress.”
“Where do you live?”
“Downtown, near the train station on seventh street.” Junhui knows exactly where that is. That isn’t the best part of town. He knows the rent is cheaper there. Soonyoung used to date a girl who lived a couple blocks from there. It’s about a twenty minute walk from the warehouse district.
“Do you walk to work?” He doesn’t like the idea of you walking home at night.
“Sometimes. Other times Jeonghan or Mingyu take me home.”
He pushes himself off the ground. “Maybe you shouldn’t be walking home if your ex is stalking you.”
“I know. It’s really rare for me to walk home.”
Junhui holds out his hand. You take it, and he pulls you up. “Call if you ever need a ride home. I’ll pick you up or Hao can.”
“You’re already doing too much for me, by helping me learn to fight.” You look down and realize he’s still holding your hand. Him holding your hand feels so natural.
“I promised you that I would keep you safe, and I meant that.” He releases your hand.
“I feel like I know you for some reason.” You knit your brows, you can’t fully explain what you’re feeling.
He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you with an unreadable expression.
“Maybe we were meant to know each other.” He finally responds.
“Maybe.”
“Did you walk here?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me drive you home.”
FOUR: ALL THE MESSED I’VE MADE, LEAD ME BACK TO YOU
Over the last month and half you’ve been going to Junhui’s place by train three times a week. You’ve grown quite close to the masked fighter. You’ve even gone to a handful more of his fights. It's become clear that Junhui is the star fighter of that underground fight scene.
It's a day you're off and went to Junhui's gym for training. You've gotten quite good at boxing. Junhui is holding up his hand helping you hit moving targets. He's wearing a proud smile at how good you've gotten.
Junhui is standing by the wall drinking water while you fix your hair. Junhui can't help but be distracted sometimes at how beautiful he thinks you are.
You turn and give him a smile. "What are your plans this evening?"
"I don't have any. Minghao is out on a date so I think I'm home alone."
"Would you want to hang out and get dinner together?"
"Sure." You don't realize but Junhui will do anything you ask him to do.
You end up at a little hole in the wall bar that serves delicious Thai Food downtown that you love.
There is a cozy little booth by the back wall. You're each drinking a bottle of beer while sharing a couple plates of delicious food.
You notice how comfortable Junhui has grown around you. He's dishing himself some pad thai while listening to you tell a story about growing up.
"How long have you been at the club?" He asks.
"Five years. The money is really good there." You really hope he doesn't push for too much more information about the club.
"How long have you lived alone?"
"About two years. I used to live with a shitty ex."
"Was that shitty ex Dae or another one?"
"Another one. I have a bad track record with men." You don't know the last time you actually dated a decent guy. Your last three relationships started out good, before they both crashed and burned.
"You’re too good for those men." He says confidently.
"I wish I believed that." You used to be so confident, but since Dae and you broke up he's seemed to break your confidence.
"You're beautiful, kind, and compassionate. I think that makes you too good for most men." He picks up his beer and stares at it for a moment. "Any man you choose to give any of your time to, should feel lucky."
"I'm really glad Jeonghan introduced us." Junhui feels like he's the missing piece in life.
"I think I definitely owe him."
You both sit there enjoying your food. You hear someone yell your name. You look over at the pool table to see Dae and some of his gang friends.
You must look like you've seen a ghost. Junhui glances at you and quickly looks over at Dae who is walking towards you. Your hand that is sitting on the table instant clenches.
Junhui reaches out grabbing your hand. You relax it as he holds your hand. He squeezes it once, gaining your attention.
"There's my girl." Dae says walking up.
"I'm not your girl." You say firmly.
"Who is this guy?" Dae turns his attention to Junhui.
Junhui narrows his eyes at him. "None of your business."
"I think it's my business who my girl is seeing." Dae tilts his head.
"She's not your property and she sure as hell isn't your girl."
Dae barks out a laugh. "You're just her new toy. Soon she'll get bored with you, and come running back to me."
"Fuck you, Dae."
"We both know it's true, baby."
"I think you should leave her alone." Junhui releases your hand and stands up.
"Or what?" Dae says, shoving his finger into Junhui's chest.
You look behind your ex to see his friends are paying attention to what is unfolding. You stand up and grab Junhui's hand. You're scared of what will happen if you don't leave now.
"Let's go." You tug on his hand.
"What's wrong lover boy are you going to let her boss you around."
"I think it’s for the best that I leave. Just know if you lay another finger on her, I will end you."
Junhui squeezes your hand as he leads you out of the bar. Neither of you say anything as he leads you back to his car.
He unlocks the door and helps you into your side. He gets in and silently starts driving. Your chest aches, realizing your ex possibly ruined everything you could have been building with Junhui.
You expect him to drive you back home, but are surprised when he takes you to his place.
"What's going on?" You finally ask.
"I don't want you home alone in an apartment where Dae can find you."
Heading upstairs to his place he walks up slowly behind you, almost as if he's protecting you.
Once inside you notice how quiet the place is. Minghao must still be out for the night.
"Let's head to my room."
You follow him down the small hallway. He opens the door and you both head inside. His room is cream colored with dark hardwood floors. His bed is a queen with dark grey sheets and a cream comforter. The floor is partially covered by a grey rug. There is a door that sits against the same wall as his bed. That leads to the ensuite bathroom.
"You can sleep in here tonight and I'll sleep in the living room."
You hate the idea of him giving up his bed to you. "We can share the bed. I don't mind."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Would you like to shower before we go to bed?"
"Please."
He shows you how to use the shower and tells you all his products in the shower can be used.
"I'll find you some clothes to sleep in."
"I'll close the curtain so you can just bring them in if you don't mind."
"Okay."
He leaves you alone in the bathroom. Pulling back the curtain and the sliding glass door you turn on the water giving it a moment to warm up. Stripping away your clothes, you try to fold them up neatly.
Stepping into the hot water you instantly start to relax. You just stand there letting the warm water washes the stress your ex caused.
The door opens and it takes everything in you not to peek through the curtain to him. "I got you a pair of shorts that are pretty comfortable and a baggy shirt."
"Thank you."
"I'll be on the other side of the door if you need me."
The door clicks shut signaling you're alone again. Looking on the corner shelf you find shampoo and conditioner. You're happy to see Junhui doesn't use two in one like some men. It looks like he has nice moisturizing shampoo and conditioner.
You take your time washing your hair, before using his citrus scented body wash. He always smells so fresh and clean and now you know why.
After you finish showering you work on fully drying yourself off and taming your hair.
Walking into his bedroom you find him laying on the top of the comforter in just a pair of sweat shorts. You already have a crush on him and the thought of him laying in bed with you, looking like that is enough to make you go crazy.
Crawling into bed you lay there staring at the ceiling. "Thank you for keeping me safe." You glance over at him.
"I promised you that I would protect you."
"I appreciate it. It's been really nice having you in my life."
"I'm glad we met." He says as he starts to crawl under the covers.
"Maybe we should get some sleep."
Closing your eyes you try to sleep. Anytime you get close to falling asleep, you keep having visions of the man lying next to you. Your dreams of him almost feel like déjà vu.
Your eyes slowly open. Laying on your side you stare at him. Since meeting Junhui you can't help but feel like your life is changing for the better. The problem is, you're terrified he's going to grow tired of you and all your baggage. What if he doesn’t like the sides of you that you desperately try to keep hidden?
His eyes flutter open. "What are you looking at?"
"You."
He reaches out, setting his hand right next to yours. The room feels incredibly small. It's taking everything not to reach out and touch him.
"Are you tired?" He asks.
"Yeah."
"You should get some sleep." He laces his fingers with yours. "Sweet dreams, bunny."
FIVE: KISS IT BETTER
Over the last week you find yourself constantly with Junhui if you aren't working. He's become a very important fixture in your life. Jeonghan and Mingyu have even started teasing you at work, about your crush on him. You don't even bother lying to yourself anymore. You're well aware you've fallen for the masked fighter.
The tension between the two of you is starting to be too much. Your days spent at his gym leave your yearning for the smallest touches. It's been too long since you've been intimate with someone, and the fact that you like him so much isn't helping. You feel touch starved. You would do anything just to hold his hand again.
It's another rainy day and you find yourself in Junhui's empty gym with him. Instead of boxing like you normally do, he's teaching you how to get out of a submission hold.
He’s hovering over you, with your hands pinned to the floor next to your head. You didn't make it easy on him trying to pin you down. You shift slightly trying to pull away.
"You can get out of this." He pushes your hands back down. Lifting your hips, you try to knock him off you. He shakes his head. "I'm not going to make it easy."
You know you have one chance if you can throw your leg hard enough to knock you both over. You take a deep breath before throwing your leg.
Jun releases you, tumbling off you. Pushing yourself off the ground, you make quick work of crawling on top of him. You sit on his lap. There is absolutely no way you can keep him pinned down, but you wanted to prove to him, you could get out of his hold.
Grabbing his hands you pin them next to his head, just like he did to you. He looks up at you giving you a wicked grin.
"That's impressive."
You release his hands knowing he'll pin you again to prove a point if you don't wave the white flag.
One of your hands rests over his chest. You can feel his heart beating below. He lifts his head slightly.
"Do you like the view?" You give him a smile.
"The view is great."
You lean down slightly. God, up close like this he's so damn beautiful. He pushes himself up so you're still sitting on his lap but his face is close to yours.
Silently he pushes your hair out of your face. His hand rests on your cheek. "You're so pretty. The view from here is even better."
Leaning in close you test the water. Resting your nose against his. Your lips part as you take a deep breath.
"I'm going to kiss you." He whispers.
The moment your lips touch for the first time, you feel alive. Kissing him is everything you've dreamed of. One of his hands stays on your cheek while the other rests on your hip, holding you close to him.
Pulling back you can't help but smile. "That was nice."
He gives you the cutest crooked smile. Leaning back in you crash your lips into his. One of his hands roams your back. Your lips move together in perfect sync. He runs his tongue across the seam of your lips. Opening your mouth he slides his tongues against yours.
His hand rests on your butt, squeezing it he pulls your body closer to his. You're making out on the floor of his gym, like a couple of horny teenagers.
Tangling your fingers in his hair you hold him close to you.
"I like you." You whisper against his lips.
"Fuck—" He moans.
You have no concept of time as you kiss him like your life depends on it. It could be five minutes or even an eternity.
Pulling away you both need a minute to catch your breath. He rests his large hand on your cheek. He drags his thumb across your bottom lip.
"Where have you been all my life?" You sigh.
"Waiting for you."
SIX: LITTLE SECRETS YOU CANT TELL
You hate nights like this when neither Jeonghan or Mingyu are at work with you. Your rent is due, and the only way to avoid being absolutely broke for a few weeks, is getting up on stage. Normally it would be fine if you knew the boys were here as a safety net.
Just knowing you’re alone always leaves you feeling unsettled.
Looking in the mirror you work on reapplying the makeup you caked on when you know you're going on stage. A couple of the dancers sitting on the other side of the mirror are talking about some work gossip. Since you started dancing here you try your hardest to stay out of drama. You have enough going on in your life. The last thing you need is for people at work to be involved in your life.
This is the final half hour of your night. You just need to do one more dance and you're able to go home, with plenty of money.
"____ you're up next." The DJ pops into the back and shouts.
You walk out to the stage. You take a slow deep breath as the music starts to play. The guitar intro to "Kiss It Better" by Rhianna plays you in.
Walking on the stage the bright lights are blinding. You hand grips the pole as you spin around.
As the song goes on you start shedding what little clothes you're wearing. The song comes to a close and you're left standing on stage fully naked. Walking off stage in your sky high heels you wrap a robe around you tightly.
You walk into the back room and immediately grab your toiletry bag. You head into the wash room and work on washing away the stage make up that's caked onto your face. You have no problem with Junhui seeing you barefaced, but you don't want to see him in full stage makeup.
Heading back to your locker you're greeted by one of the managers handing you your tips from the last dance. You pull out some for the djs and bartender and then shove it into the pouch you keep in your bag.
"Are you heading out?" Your manager asks.
"Yeah."
"Have a good night."
Reaching into your back you pull out a pair of joggers and sweater. You get dressed in your warm and cozy clothes quickly. Grabbing your phone from your bag you see a text from Junhui. It reads "be outside in five minutes."
You gather your purse and make sure you have your money bag. You shove the rest of your dancing stuff in your locker. You make your way quickly through the club hoping to get to Junhui.
Walking outside into the cool night air you see him parked close to the entrance. You jog to his car and quickly get in.
Sitting your bag on the floorboard you turn and give him a smile. "Thank you for picking me up."
"How was work?" He asks. Your stomach twists in knots. You hate talking about your job. You don't want to lie to him, but you can't bring yourself to tell him that tonight was one of those nights you took your clothes off on stage.
"Fine." You know you probably sound short with your answer but you can't help it.
"What happened?" He raises his brow, clearly confused by your tone.
"It's just work."
"Did you want to talk about it?"
"Can we please not?" You can't do this tonight. You aren't ready for things to blow up between you.
"We don't have to talk about it." He leans over and presses his lips to your cheek for a gentle kiss.
"I know it's late, but did you want to stay at my place tonight? The guys are over hanging out and they asked if you would join us." This isn't the first time he's asked you to stay over since your first kiss. You've stayed over enough that Junhui has gotten toiletries of things you use in his bathroom. Your sleepovers are quite innocent outside of some kissing. You both just like the intimacy of sharing a bed and cuddling.
In the process of getting close to Junhui, you've also grown close with his three best friends.
"Is there possibly food there? I'm starving."
He holds his hand out. Without thinking twice you lace your fingers with his. He lifts his hand and kisses the top of your hand.
"Chan brought pizza over."
"Perfect."
The drive to Junhui's place isn't too long. He parks and turns the car off. He doesn't move to get out and neither do you. He turns towards you and gives you a look. You unbuckle your seatbelt and practically launch yourself at him. You move so you're sitting on his lap, with the steering wheel against your back. Your fingers are tangled in his hair as your lips move together. Since your first kiss you shared at the gym, it's not uncommon for you and him to make out like a couple of horny teenagers. His hands roam your back. His hand dips below the back of your sweats. His finger toy with the back of your thong because he grabs the fleshy cheek of your ass. You realize he's definitely an ass man. Whenever you're on top of him he's constantly grabbing your butt.
"Fuck—" he moans against your lips. "I'm going to get hard if we don't stop."
"Is that a problem?" You tease him, pulling back.
"Yeah. Our first time shouldn't be in my car. We should take things slower." You've never had a man want to take things slow like this. But you have no problem waiting. You know when you finally have sex it will be intense, just like everything is with him.
After your intense makeout session in the car you find yourself in the living room of Junhui and Minghao's apartment. It's two in the morning but none of the guys seem to be tired. Soonyoung is sitting on the floor next to Chan. They have been talking about some huge fight with some man named Johnny.
"Dude, Johnny is in Sung's gang. Last time I checked Sung is still pissed he lost money when you beat him." Soonyoung says. If you remember correctly, Sung was the first man you saw Junhui fight.
"Is fighting Johnny a good idea?" Minghao asks.
"No." Chan chimes in.
"The money would be crazy though." Soonyoung responds.
Junhui isn't saying anything. He's just silently sitting on the couch next to you.
"Jun you don't have to do it." Minghao says.
"If I don't fight him, Sung is just going to be more pissed."
"Dude Johnny is huge. He knocked out Bronx and broke his arm." Chan says.
Everything they're all saying is making you extremely uneasy. You look over at Junhui, unable really read his emotions.
"What is the payout?" Junhui asks.
"Double the Sung fight." Minghao says.
"I'll do it." The moment he agrees you suddenly want to cry. You push yourself off the couch.
You don't say anything as you walk off to Junhui's room. You don't want to make a scene begging him not to fight. You clearly have something going on with Junhui but you definitely aren't his girlfriend.
You head off to the bathroom to brush your teeth and to start getting ready for bed. You go about your business brushing your teeth and changing into the oversized shirt and shorts Junhui keeps in the top drawer for you.
You walk out of the bathroom and find Junhui sitting on the bed waiting for you.
"You're clearly upset."
You stop in front of him and stand between his spread legs. "I'm worried."
"I can count on one hand how many fights I've lost." He rests his hand on your thigh.
"If you're going to do this fight I want to be there."
He shakes his head, leaning back away from you. "It could get ugly, and I don't want you to see it."
Closing your eyes you take a deep. How could you possibly explain to him that you care so much about him that you'll be worried sick about him?
"I need to be there. I can't just go to work or sit at home and pretend everything is okay." You crawl on to his lap. "I'm begging you, please."
Reaching up he holds your face with both hands. "You need to bring Jeonghan or Mingyu with you."
He leans up, pressing his lips to yours. You don't realize but he cares about you so much, that he can't stand the idea of you being upset with him.
"You can go back out with the boys if you want." You feel guilty he left his friends because you got upset.
"They're just drinking and hanging out. I don't want to do that. I want to lay in bed and hold you."
Crawling off of him, you shimmy out of your shorts you're wearing. You're standing there in just a little thong and an oversized shirt.
"I think you're trying to make me hard." He groans laying down flat.
"It's more comfortable to sleep this way." You flash him a faux innocent smile.
He lets out a heavy sigh before sitting up. "Should I sleep naked?"
"I would prefer you did." You tease him crawling into the side of your bed you find yourself always sleeping on.
He heads off to the bathroom leaving you alone for about five minutes. He comes back dressed only in a pair of tight boxer-briefs that leave little to the imagination.
He crawls into bed next to you. Reaching over he turns off the light. He pulls you close to him. Your head is resting on this chest and he has your leg pulled on top of his stomach. You're as physically close as you can be.
You never feel as relaxed as you are in his arms. It doesn't take long until you're sound asleep curled up against him.
SEVEN: EVERYTHING WAS MIDNIGHT RAIN
It’s hard to watch the fight unfolding in front of you. Jeonghan holds your hand tightly. Johnny is bigger than Junhui and his hits are landing hard. He throws a head right hook to Junhui's jaw. He stumbles back, spitting out blood.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you can’t watch this. The crowd erupts screaming. Opening your eyes just a little you see Johnny on the floor. Junhui is on top of him throwing punches.
Johnny gets a firm kick in, getting Junhui off of him. Junhui stumbles back. Johnny is throwing punches, and kicks nonstop. Junhui is able to block most of them. Johnny gets another firm hit in, splitting open Junhui eyebrow.
Burying yourself into Jeonghan’s side, you squeeze your eyes shut. You care about the man in the mask too much to watch him get this hurt.
“Keep your eyes closed.” Jeonghan says.
You try to block out everything. The cheers get louder, and you hear the noises both the fighters are making. The crowd groans and suddenly erupts.
Pulling away from Jeonghan slowly you find Johnny knocked out on the concrete and Junhui standing tall. Blood is dripping from his eyebrow down his face. Lifting his hand he wipes away the blood. His eyes stay locked on yours.
Your chest aches staring at him. He’s staring at you in the room filled to the brim with people cheering, like it's only you two. The vice grip on your heart, leaves you stuck standing there.
Hao and Soonyoung rush over to Junhui. Soonyoung is working on checking on him while the man running the show hands Minghao a duffel bag. Junhui and the boys walk towards the back. The moment they’re close to you and Jeonghan, Junhui grabs your hand. Lacing his fingers with yours, he squeezes your hand.
Once in the back, Jeonghan locks the door. Junhui takes off his mask. You instantly notice his lip is busted open. You want to work on cleaning him up, but before you can, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.
You can feel the eyes of the other three boys burning into you. Closing your eyes, you lean into him. Wrapping your arms around him tightly. You don’t ever want to see him in another fight like that.
“I’m sorry, you had to see that.” He says just loud enough for you to hear.
“I can’t see you get hurt like that again.” Tears brim your eyes. You can’t help but cry. Sniffling back tears, you try to keep yourself together.
He pulls away slowly. He stares at you for a short second. Reaching up he rests his hand on your cheek. His thumb drags across your cheek, pushing away your tears.
“I should get looked at.”
Stepping back, you nod. “Yea. Soonyoung needs to clean up your wounds and doctor you.”
Junhui slowly walks over towards the boy. You stand locked in the same place Junhui left you. Jeonghan walks in over to you. Your eyes are locked on the man you’ve grown to care for, as his friends are inspecting his injuries.
Jeonghan stands next to you. He nudges your side, catching your “Do you love him?” He asks, just loud enough for you to hear.
“I think so. I think there is something in the universe that pulled us to each other. Before him, there was a part of me that always felt like it was missing. He makes me feel whole.”
“It seems like he loves you.”
“I’m bad luck, and I’m so scared he's going to get hurt because of me.”
“He won’t get hurt because of you. Let him protect you, and take care of you.” Jeonghan nudges your side again.
You finally look away from Junhui. “What if he doesn’t like who I am? What if he finds out about my job, and it’s too much for him?” Everything you’ve done at work that you’re not proud of, was so you could survive. You never planned on taking your clothes off for money, but sometimes you have to so you can survive.
“He’s not going to judge you. I know him, he’s a really good guy and he cares about you. He’s not going to care that you strip every so often.”
Junhui slowly stands up. Minghao hands him another mask. As soon as you all walk out of the back door, you don’t want people to fully see his face.
He puts on the mask and glances over at you. He walks over to you and laces his fingers with yours. Being close to him feels natural.
Walking out of the crowded warehouse. Soonyoung helps clear a path. Stopping at the entrance you see it’s now raining.
“Can I come to your place, to take care of you?” You don’t want to be alone tonight. You’re just going to stay awake all night worrying about him.
“Yeah of course.”
Jeonghan and Soonyoung say goodnight, before running to their cars. Junhui leads you through the rain towards Minghao’s car.
The ride to the boy’s apartment wasn’t too long. Minghao walks behind as Junhui slowly makes his way upstairs. Once inside, Junhui heads off to his room. Before you can follow, Minghao grabs your wrist stopping you.
“Hey?”
“Yeah?”
“He doesn’t do this with other women. I know you seem kind of guarded, and I want you to know he’s not some player or something. He’s pretty guarded himself, and only let you in because he cares about you.”
“I care about him too.”
“I know.” Minghao releases your wrist. “Take care of him tonight.”
“I will.”
You head off towards Junhui’s room. Slowly pushing the door open. He’s nowhere to be seen. You look by his hamper and find his clothes he was just wearing. The door that leads to the bathroom is cracked, and you can hear the water running.
Pushing the door open you see the curtain is pulled shut. “Jun?”
“Yeah, bunny?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, you can join me if you would like.”
Walking in you shut the door fully. Without even thinking you start stripping away your clothes. Being naked in front of people isn't anything new for you, but the idea of him seeing you naked for the first time feels intimate.
Pulling back the curtain, you slide the door open. You step into the shower carefully. Your eyes instantly lock onto his beautiful body that is drenched. His ribs are already painted with water colored bruises, blooming on his skin. His lip is slowly healing. He turns around letting the water rinse away his shampoo.
You could spend hours admiring all the details of his beautiful body. Your eyes can’t help but wander down to his large cock, which is resting between his legs.
“You’re beautiful.” You say.
He gives you a gentle smile. “You’re breathtaking.”
He steps out from the water and holds his hand out. You reach out, taking his hand. Stepping under the hot water, your body instantly starts to relax.
“You know we’ve only ever kissed and now I’m naked in the shower with you.” You try to make light of the situation.
“I’m sorry.” He leans in close, while the water is pouring down on both of you.
“Don’t be sorry.” You want anything and everything this man will possibly give you.
His large hand rests on your cheek. He leans in even closer so his nose is bumping yours. His lips just barely brush yours as he takes a deep breath. Your lips part, as you’re dying to say something. Silent pleads sit on your tongue.
“Jun—“
“Let me take a moment to enjoy this.”
“Kiss me or I might drop dead.”
The softest laugh passes his lips. Everything melts away as his lips crash into yours. Your fingers tangle in his wet hair, holding him close to you.
He pulls back slightly, just giving you each a moment to breathe.
“Are you hurting?” You know he’s in pain after that terrible fight.
“A little but, I want to be close to you. I want to kiss you, just like I do in every lifetime.”
“Lifetime?” You have no clue what he’s talking about.
“I was made in every lifetime for you.” He rambles before crashing his lips into yours again.
He moves your both, so your back is pressed up against the cold white tile. Your lips move together like you need each other to breathe. Junhui is the air in your oxygen deprived lungs. He moves from kissing your lips, across your jaw, and down your delicate neck.
Echoing moans pass your lips as he finds the sensitive spot on the side of your neck. “Jun—“
He kisses the tops of each of your breasts. Mindlessly reach between your two bodies. You find his hardening cock against your stomach.
“Can I?” You ask.
“Please.”
His lips travel back to yours. The way your lips move together is intoxicating. You focus on pumping his length at a steady pace. He groans into mouth as you continue to kiss. One of his hands is on your breast, squeezing it. His thumb teases your nipple, reaching moans from you.
“Fuck—“ he whispers against your lips.
“You feel good.” You whisper.
“I’m going to cum.” You take this as your sign to pick up the pace.
His nose rests against yours. His lips part, and soft moans and groans pour out. His breathing is heavy, and his eyes closed.
“Fuck—“ He paints your hand and stomach with his milky white release.
You pull back and smile at the sight of him. He looks heavenly in his post orgasmic bliss.
You step back under the water rinsing off your hand and stomach. Junhui moves so he’s leaning against the wall. His eyes slowly open, he looks at you in a haze.
“Baby, come here.” He reaches for you. “Let me take care of you.”
“Later, right now I’m taking care of you.”
He steps back towards the water again. He presses his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. “I can make you cum.”
“You don’t need to. Let’s finish up and go to bed.”
Getting out of the shower you both take your time drying off. Neither of you bother putting on clothes. You crawl into his bed. You’re laying on your side with Junhui curled up behind you, holding you close. Nothing is said as he presses kisses to your bare shoulder.
“Jun?”
“Yeah, baby?” You love when he calls you baby.
“What do you mean, you were made for me in every lifetime?” You aren’t sure if he was just rambling on if what he said actually meant something.
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Jun, I feel things for you I can’t explain. I don’t think you’ll say anything I think is crazy.”
“I’ve lived so many lifetimes , they all just feel like recurring dreams.” He pauses for a moment. “But in every single lifetime, I have you. We’ve had many different names, but in every single one we look the same. I find you in every single one of those lives, and I always love you. In every life I protect, I'm the protector Bes, and in every lifetime I protect you.” You should run away and tell him he’s crazy, but you know deep down this is true. You’ve had dreams of him, long before you met him. You know deep down inside you’ve lived many life times together.
“I believe you.”
He presses a kiss to the back of your neck. “That’s why we’re drawn to each other.”
“It makes sense.” You let out a yawn. It’s been a long day and you can barely hold your eyes open.
“Let’s get some sleep.” He says softly.
It doesn’t take long before you both fall asleep curled up with the echoing sounds of the rain outside.
EIGHT: ALL THE PAIN AND FEAR
Nights like this are the worst. You went into work telling yourself you would just work as a waitress. That the tips and pay from that alone would get you in the clear for a few weeks. You didn't expect your boss to ask if you wanted to get on stage.
Sitting in the back Jeonghan comes over and sits down next to you. He places soda down in front of you.
Glancing up at him, you find him giving you a sympathetic smile.
"You don't have to get up there if you don't want to."
"I know. I'm worried about what Jun will think." Before him you didn't really worry about what someone would think about you getting on that stage.
"I promise you, he won't care."
"What if he looks at me differently?" You grab the lemon lime soda he placed in front of you.
"Neither me or Mingyu looked at you differently when you started doing it. Jun won't care. You just need to be honest with him."
A heavy sigh passes your lips. You bring the ice cold glass to your lips and take a drink or the crisp soda.
"If you don't want to do it, you can always say no. Woojin is an asshole but I doubt he would make you get on stage if you don't want to."
Jeonghan stands up and pats your back. "Whatever you want to do I support you."
You finish drinking your soda and decide you're just going to do it. You've never felt shameful for being a stripper and you know deep down inside Junhui won't care.
One dance that's all you'll do, and then you'll be a waitress the rest of the night.
Heading off to the room the dancer get ready in, you go to your locker where you store things for nights like tonight.
You're dressed in a tiny white lace set that leaves little to the imagination. Putting on your heels you go over to the DJ and let him know what song you want him to play.
Standing on the side stage you take slow deep breaths trying to calm down. The beat to the song "Do I Wanna Know" by the Arctic Monkeys starts to play. The DJ says your stage name as you walk onto the stage.
Being on stage feels like a blur. Leaning against the cold pole you sway your body to the beat of the music. Reaching for the front clasps on your bra, you disconnect it and let the white lace fall to the floor.
Looking around you just see the bright light and the money hitting the stage.
Grabbing the pole, you walk around it just dressed in your tiny white thong. Stepping out of it, you leave yourself standing there fully naked. You dance around a little as the song comes to a close. Walking off the stage you grab a robe that you left on the hook.
Tying the robe up you walk back to the dancers room. You don't want to sit back here and think about what just happened. You just quickly put on a tiny white dress, not bothering to wear a bra and another thong. You know you could make more money in tips if you're dressed like this. You switch to a pair of chunk white boots that have a heel and a platform that are comfortable.
Walking back onto the floor you let your manager know you're going to wait tables. You see your first table and head over to the bar where Jeonghan is.
"How are you feeling?" He asks as he starts making your drinks for table seven.
"Fine. I just made my rent on stage."
"You don't sound fine." He responds as he cleans a glass.
"Jun is fighting tonight and I'm always on edge when I'm not there to make sure he's safe."
"That's understandable. Did you want me to drop you off at Jun's tonight?" He sets the glass down on the counter.
"Yes please."
You go back to taking drink orders and waiting tables. You've got maybe two hours left at work and instead of fully waiting tables, you're running out drinks for Jeonghan.
You're on the far side of the club, out of view of Jeonghan or Mingyu. You've just brought a large tray of shots to a group of men dressed in suits.
Turning around you feel sick instantly. Dae locks eyes on you immediately. He finds you walking around near the stage. You look around hoping Mingyu will show up. Jeonghan has a swarm of people at the bar, so he definitely can't see you.
"Leave me alone." You say firmly as he approaches.
"Baby, don't be like that." He walks up.
Holding your arm out you keep a distance from him. "I'm just trying to talk to you without your little masked fighter being your body guard."
You take a big step back. "Leave!"
"Why won't you talk to me anymore?" He takes another step closer.
"We're broken up. We have been for eight months. Just leave me alone."
He barks out a laugh. "Does your little fighter Bes know about you getting up on that stage?"
You don't respond, you just stare at him.
"I'm shocked you're here and not watching your new man's fight tonight. I heard Sung wants revenge." You've heard Minghao and Soonyoung talk about Sung. He's the first guy you ever saw Junhui fight. He's a big strong guy with ties to Dae's gang.
"Shut up."
"I wonder if Sung and everyone else knows that your sweet Junhui is good at fighting." The moment he mentions Junhui’s name, ice runs through your veins.
Without thinking you shove him away from you. "Shut the fuck up, you don't know what you're talking about."
He lets out another laugh. "Oh it seems I've hit a nerve."
Before anything else can be said Jeonghan and Mingyu are here. Mingyu grips the back of Dae's shirt, pulling him away from you.
"What your little fighter can't help you, you still need Jeonghan and this goon." He pushes his elbow back towards Mingyu.
Jeonghan pulls you back a little. Dae rolls his eyes and laughs. "I think your boy Junhui should be worried that you're fucking Jeonghan." You and Jeonghan have never done anything sexual together. Dae has always and will always be jealous of your friendship with him.
Mingyu tightens his grip pulling him back more. "Dude, shut the fuck up. You have no clue what you're talking about."
"I hope you said goodbye to your man before you came to work."
"What?"
"Turns out Sung and the boys brought a gun to the fight. It looks like no one is a fan of the masked fighter, Bes." Your stomach instantly drops.
Dae lifts his wrist looking at the time. "I would say things have probably already kicked off. Maybe if you leave now you can say goodbye."
Bile crawls up your throat. The room feels like it's spinning. Stepping forward you slap Dae.
"Good luck, baby." He laughs.
Mingyu pulls him into a chokehold pulling him back.
Without thinking Jeonghan grabs your hand. He drags you through the crowded club. He stops at the bar where your manager Woojin is. He says you're having an emergency. Hand in hand you sprint out of the club together. The concrete is wet from the rain that just ended.
Jeonghan drags you to his car. You both hop in and he drives, breaking too many laws, to get you to the warehouse quickly.
Parking, you hop out and see chaos is already unfolding. Jeonghan looks around frantically.
The sound of the gun shot ringing out echoed outside.
"Fuck." Jeonghan says.
Immediately people start sprinting outside. Another gun shot rings out. Then everything suddenly starts happening too quickly. Jeonghan runs towards the door and luckily sees no one has been shot.
You see Minghao looking terrified with blood on his hands. You sprint towards him.
"What happened?"
With wild eyes Minghao grabs your shoulder. "One of Sung's guys shot Chan."
"How bad is it?"
"It grazed him."
Another group of people rush out. You look inside to see Junhui has Sung pinned to the ground with Soonyoung helping. Jeonghan rushes inside to help Chan.
You follow Minghao inside, you desperately want to get to Junhui.
"Oh my god." Your voice immediately catches Junhui's attention.
You look at Sung and see he's definitely been knocked unconscious. Junhui jumps up and pulls you into his chest. He wants to kiss you so bad, but you both know he needs to keep his mask on.
"We need to get Chan out of here." Jeonghan says.
Chan lets out a groan as Jeonghan and Minghao help him stand up.
Soonyoung stands up and follows behind everyone as you head outside. The boys take Chan towards Jeonghan's car that's parked in the alley behind the warehouse.
Junhui stops and pulls you into another hug. When the first gun shot rang out he was terrified he would never see you again.
You walk towards the alley with him holding your hand. As you get to the entrance you see an expensive looking mustang driving toward you.
Everything moves in slow motion as the head lights get closer and closer.
Junhui moves your body like a force of nature. He shoves you hard and quick, getting you out of the way of the car bearing towards you. You hit the concrete wall with a thud.
He throws himself the other way attempting to save himself. You're just far enough away from the boys that they can't see what is happening.
Everything aches as you hit the hard concrete. Closing your eyes, you feel disoriented.
The car speeds off after clearly missing their target.
“Baby,” he shouts, pushing himself off the cold concrete. His attempts to save you from the car, left him on the cold hard ground. His heart sinks, seeing you laying on the wet asphalt. God he hopes he didn't hurt you, trying to save you.
Frantically he runs to you, praying to any god that you're okay. Being thrown against the wall, left your ears ringing. You held your ears feeling dazed. Slowly you sit up groaning in pain from the impact. He pulls up to your feet and presses you against the brick wall, his hands reached up to hold your face. His eyes are wild as he studies you.
Opening your mouth to speak nothing comes out as you stare at him. His breathing is rough just like yours. The car that tried to hit you, is long gone. You know exactly why they tried to run you off the road.
He releases your face, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. He's still wearing his gear from the fight. His face is still partially covered by his mask.
Glove covered hands roam your soft body. No one’s touch had ever felt quite like this. It wasn’t soft by any means but it was sensual without trying. With your body pressed against the cold brick wall you mind drifts to places it shouldn’t go. Junhui has never touched you like this. He's touching you as if he's trying to make sure you're real.
All that could be heard was heavy breathing between the two of you and the sound of passing cars below.
Your breathing is shallow as you’re focused on Junhui’s eyes.
You're in an alley in the dark side of the city. You had left work in a hurry dressed in nothing but a tiny dress and he was in his outfit he fought in.
It felt wrong because of what had just happened, but you had never been so turned on in your life.
“Jun—,” as you went to speak, he places his hand over mouth, silencing you.
Leaning forward with his lips brushing your ear he whispers, "you can’t say my name out loud right now.”
Slowly he removes his hand.“Okay.”
“Are you okay,” his hands went from your mouth to gently gliding down your throat.
“I’m fine. Maybe a little bruised up,” reaching out you rest your hand on his chest.
“Your pulse is racing,” he rasps.
“I’m on edge.” You're absolutely rattled, after someone clearly tried to kill you, by running you over.
“We need to get you back to my place,” he reaches down and takes your hand.
“What about my place?” Your apartment is way closer and you don't know if you could make it to his place.
“We can go there,” his hand rests in the crook of your neck.
Holding your hand he leads you into the alley where the boys are standing by their cars looking at Chan's wound. It looks like the bullet grazed his arm. They had no clue what just happened.
"We need to go to the hospital." Soonyoung says.
"You guys take Chan, I'm going to take the car and get bunny home safe."
Jeonghan puts his hand on his shoulder. "Please take care of her."
NINE: I BEG FOR YOU, AND EVERYTHING WE COULD BE
You're about ten minutes away from your apartment. He parks his car and leans over and presses his lips to your cheek for a soft kiss.
"In case Dae has people waiting for you outside, maybe we should take the fire escape."
"Good idea."
Arriving at the bottom of your apartment where the fire escape is, leads up to your second story apartment. You climb up the ladder well aware you're barely covered by your dress and tiny thong you're wearing underneath it. You left work in a rush and didn't have time to change into anything else. You're basically in nothing but a skin tight dress that leaves very little to the imagination. Luckily Junhui is a gentleman and wouldn't intentionally try to get an eyeful as you climbed up the ladder.
Climbing through the window into your apartment you help Junhui crawl in behind you. You shut the window quickly and lock it. You proceed to pull the blinds closed and turn to Junhui who's standing by your couch taking deep breaths.
“Are you okay?” You asks, walking towards him quickly.
He reaches up and slowly removed his mask. His black eye already coming in and his cheek is split.
Wide eyes lock on him as he works on taking his outfit off slowly. Low groans pass his lips as he works to strip away his clothes. He had taken quite a beating, tonight was clearly a set up. Sung had every intention of killing Junhui and taking you out after. Dae clearly knew what to say to get you to rush to Junhui. His hands grips the back of the couch as he walks around to sit down.
“I’m going to get my first aid kit.” You say.
The gash on his chest is pretty deep and you know you need to clean it. You hurry off to your bathroom and grab the first aid kit that's under the sink. Walking back into the living room you remove your shoes and walk over, sitting on the couch next to Junhui. His eyes are closed as he takes deep breaths.
“I thought you were dead,” you whisper.
“You don’t have to worry about me." He groans.
“It’s a little hard when I hear that you’ve been shot at the warehouse.”
With a peroxide cover cotton ball you gently cleaned the gash on his chest. His eyes are still closed tight as he groans. Gently you clean his wound, you're trying your hardest to make sure you don't hurt him anymore then he already is.
“Thank you for saving me,” you whisper, pulling away the cotton pad from his skin.
His black eyes open and a crooked smile formed on his beautiful face, “I don’t think you realize I will literally do anything to keep you safe.”
You go to move your hand away, and he reaches out, grabbing your wrist. His thumb gently rubs the underside, where your skin is more sensitive. Your eyes stay locked on him, as he touches you gently. You want to tell Junhui how much he means to you, but your brain doesn't seem to know what to say. Reaching up he takes the blood soaked cotton pad from your hand and placed it on top of the coffee table. He releases your wrist. He reaches down and places his hands on your soft hips. He moves your body as if you weighed nothing, and tugs you onto his lap. He's dressed in nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs as you straddle his thighs. You're only wearing a thin small dress that doesn't cover your body very much. You look like a stripper. The amount of make up that's cake on your skin doesn't help the look. His thumb rubs your hip, as the other hand rests on the side of your neck. His lips part as he takes slow breaths. One of your hands rests on his cheek while the other rests on your own thigh, holding down the short dress.
You lean forward resting your nose against his. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest and you know Junhui is aware of that.
“I love the way you smell, your skin always has this soft scent of vanilla,” he inhales.
Taking a slow breath you smile with your nose still resting against his.
His hand that's been resting on your hip crawls up your soft stomach, resting on the underside of your breast. His thumb grazed against the fabric of where your bra would have been if you were wearing one. Pulling his face away from you, he leans his head back and takes a breath. You could feel that he's growing harder beneath you.
“Why aren’t you wearing a bra?” He rasps leaning his head back up.
“Let’s not talk about that,” you whisper, praying that you weren’t going to have this conversation. He doesn't need to know that you get more money from tips if you aren't wearing one, or if you wear just a thin bralette.
"You don’t have to keep all these walls up around me." He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I meant it when I told you, I want you. I don't care about your past, or the part that you think you need to hide. I want to be with you and to protect you." He leaves out the part where he wants to tell you, that in every lifetime he's loved you, and in every lifetime he's had to protect you from evil.
“There’s some things I don’t want you to know about me,” you whisper.
“Okay.”
You know it isn't okay, but he isn't going to press you for more information.
“I was so worried about you, I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt,” his voice is shaky.
“I’m okay Jun." Your lips are so close to his.
He must have read your mind, because he leans forward and connects his lips to your. His hand is still resting on your neck. You move your hand from your thigh and rests it on his cheek. Instinctively you roll your hips as your lips move together.
His lips move from your mouth, and he slowly start to kiss his way down your jaw. Holding your eyes close you take in his touch. His hand that's resting on your neck moves to the thin spaghetti strap of your dress.
With his lips ghosting your skin he asks, “can I?”
“Yes,” your tone is needy.
His hand that's resting on the underside of your breast moves up as he pushes down both the straps on your dress. He pushes the fabric down your skin, leaving you completely bare from the waist up. You stare at him, wide eyed as his calloused hands move up to massage your breast. His fingers rolled your nipples. Your lips are parted as you take deep a breath enjoying the feeling of his touch.
“Is this alright?” He asks.
“Yes it is,” you try to keep your tone even.
“I won't let anything like tonight ever happen again,” he leans forward and presses his lips to the side of your mouth.
His lips move against yours, as you slowly roll your hips against his growing length. Your lips move together, as if you need each other to breathe. If someone told Junhui he couldn't exist without you, he wouldn't even second guess them. Kissing you is like a breath of fresh air. You're oxygen in his air deprived lungs. Your hands move up resting on his chest. With his lips ghosting yours he whispers, "I need you.”
“Jun." You hold his face in your hands and pull away from him. "I'm so scared I'll ruin things between us. I'm bad luck, everything always falls apart because of me. I don't want to say something that will ruin things between us."
“Nothing you say will ruin anything between us. I want you, I don't mean I just want to have sex with you. I want to be the person you can lean on. I want to be the person who can take care of you. Baby just let me in." He's never sounded this desperate speaking to you before.
“Junhui I’m begging you just drop it right now,” your own voice is desperate.
“Okay.”
Your lips crash against his as your hips roll against his. Your hands move to the bottom of your dress and push it up so it's resting above your hips. Leaving you practically bare below, except for your tiny white thong. You lift your hips slightly, and pull your thong to the side.
"Please touch me."
His lips move to your neck, leaving wet kisses and gentle nips. His lips ghosts your skin and he whispers, "Are you wet for me?"
“Yes,” you rasps as his finger slide into your core.
You gasped as his fingers did slow circles on your sensitive nub. His lips never left your neck. His touch sent a shiver down your spine in the best way possible.
“I need more,” you moan.
Junhui removes his hands from your core. “Sit up a little bit,” he rasps, removing his lips from your skin.
You sit up as he pushes his boxers down his thighs enough to free his erection. Your eyes stayed locked in his face. He has a look of concentration playing across it. His hands grip your soft thigh bringing you back to a resting position on his thighs.
You sit up just enough to line yourself up with his cock. Slowly you sink down on to his length, gasping as you bottom out. Your hands rests on his chest. You stay still for a moment adjusting to his size. You haven't had sex in a while and your body is tense.
His hand rises up to rest gently on your throat, never in your life have you wanted someone to place even the slightest amount of pressure there. Leaning forward you rest your nose against his. Your breathing is uneven. His eyes are closed as his hand still rests on your throat, his thumb gently glides across your skin. All the oxygen seems to be sucked out of the room, and you need each other to breathe. Your ears are still ringing from being thrown against the wall. In this moment the only thing you can hear is yours and Junhui’s breathing.
Slowly your hips moved up. You start to move slowly up and down his length. The only other sounds passing your lips are pants and soft moans. You have never had sex in your life, that feels nearly as intimate as what is unfolding between you and Junhui. Your hands grip his shoulders as you continue to ride him. He's touching anywhere he possibly can, his hand travels from your throat down to your soft hips. He helps guide you as he moves you up and down his length.
The coil in your stomach tightens, with each drag of his cock. His length curves just the right way. With each thrust he touches that spongy spot inside of you, that has you seeing stars.
Gasping you lean forward, resting your head against his shoulder. Your lips gently nip at his shoulder. You know you're probably going to leave a mark reminding you both of what had happened between you on your couch.
With each thrust your stomach tightens. Leaning up you press your lips to his for a hungry kiss. He knows you're close by, your needy whimpers. Reaching between you, he toys with your sensitive clit.
With your lips ghosting his you moan his name, as he pushes you over the edge. Your walls flutter around his length; it didn't take too long for him to hit his high and spill inside you. Your body stops moving, you stay completely still sitting on his lap. Your forehead is resting against his as you both your breathing is uneven. His hand moves up, gently resting on your cheek. He places a wet kiss on your lips.
“You should probably take a shower." Your voice is shaky. He pulls away from you slowly.
“Will you join me?” He asks.
“Of course.”
You slowly crawl off his lap with wobbly legs and take his hands as he stands up. You lead him down towards the bathroom door that was next to your bedroom door.
TEN: FATED LOVERS
Laying in bed, your head rests on Junhui’s chest. His calloused hand rubs your back slowly. It was almost five in the morning and neither of you had been able to sleep at all. Your eyes were closed as you tried to take in his closeness. Not even two hours ago you thought Junhui was dead and now you were in bed naked with him.
"Can you promise me, I won't scare you off if I let my walls down?"
"Nothing you say could scare me." He leans down pressing his lips to the top of your head.
"I'm not just a waitress—" you pause. Outside of Jeonghan and Mingyu you don't really share the other side with people. "I also am a stripper when money is tight."
"Baby, that's fine. I fight people for money. You got to do what you got to do to survive."
"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you."
"Baby, it's okay. That doesn't change the fact that I love you." These final three words make your chest feel as if it's being squeezed.
"I love you too." You don't think you have ever loved anyone like you love him.
"I'm never going to let anything like tonight ever happen again."
"Okay."
"We should get some sleep."
"Yeah. Can you stay here when we wake up?"
He nods his head. "Of course."
Before long you both fall asleep. You dream of each other just like you always do. It's almost noon when you both wake up.
You take your time making you both lunch as Junhui sits at the table watching you move around the kitchen. Finding you in every lifetime gives his life meaning. Now that he's found you can't wait to spend the rest of this life with you.
After lunch Soonyoung calls and lets you both know that Chan is fine and he's home safe. Luckily the bullet just grazed him. He also informs you that Sung and a bunch of his gang were arrested. You aren't sure if Dae was arrested but you hope he was.
When nightfall comes around you and Junhui pack you an overnight bag and you head back to his place.
Junhui says now that he has you, he can't bear to sleep alone.
Standing in his shower he's taking his time scrubbing shampoo into your hair. He's using this time to take care of you. The moment you rinse your hair you work on washing his still very bruised body. Any chance he gets, he's leaning down to steal a kiss.
"I love you." He says between kisses.
"I love you too."
"I've loved you in every lifetime, and I'll love you in every single one that comes next." He means it. He's lived so many lifetimes as a protector and hopes he finds you in every single one.
welcome to my masterlist, you can guide yourself through it by the key below.
F — fluff M — mature/smut A — angst C — comedy
Requests are usually open but I take my time to write them. I will not write anything I am uncomfortable with + I only write for seventeen.
seungcheol
♡ dumb pretty princess | M • bodyguard!cheol x celebrity!reader
your bodyguard is tired of you leaving his sight, so he has to teach you a listening lesson.
♡ •cherryontop_ is live | M • adultstreamer!cheol x roommate!reader
coming soon.
jeonghan
♡ into the woods | M • camp counselor!jeonghan x f!reader
coming soon.
wonwoo
♡ watching | M • roommate!wonwoo x reader
After a night of confessions, your heart breaks but you still find yourself thinking about him on a lonely night, just to catch him watching you touch yourself to the though of him. ; or, wonwoo comes home to see you moaning his name while you play with ur toys ifywim
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ i’ve got a crush on u series | idol!wonwoo x popstar!reader
♡ butterflies | M
backstage rendezvous with your boyfriend, or wonwoo receives an award from the star of the night who happens to be a great singer iykwim
♡ no biting | M
Wonwoo is tired after a long week of working on the preparations for Svt’s new tour and finds comfort on you—literally; or, wonu is obsessed with you and your breasts.
♡ good to me | M
after a long show and an even longer tour, wonwoo finds himself at the last stop, los angeles. good thing he has someone very special to take care of him—in every single way. ; or, wonwoo stays over at your house after his last tour stop and a relaxing bath turns into a lot more.
mingyu
♡ loneliness is a bitch | M • incubus!mingyu x collegestudent!reader
your poetry professor starts showing up in your dreams after he praised you on your assignment—but it must be all in your head right? or why is he looking at you like he know what you dreamt about?
♡ sugar & spice | M • adultstreamer!mingyu x baker!reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ➙ When you inherits an estate, you expects creaking floors and dust — not a ghost who swears you’re his wife. The house breathes with memories that aren’t yours, and every night, a soft voice whispers your name. Jun isn’t frightening; he’s heartbreakingly gentle, waiting for a love you've forgotten.
𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 ➙ Angst, Ghost x Human, Dark Romance, Mention of Past Lives, Slow burn (I think??), Tragic Romance, Love beyond Death, “You forgot me but I never did” type of shit, Porn w/ Plot (and yes, YOU CAN SKIP the sex scene if not comfortable with the smut warnings)
𝐖𝐂 ➙ 12.8k
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ➙ MDNI, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral sex (both f. and m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, neck grab, restraining hands, sensory description, necromancy, wax play, temperature play, soft dominance, implied somnophilia, body worship (jun be obsessed hahaha), dirty talk, ghost sex, dom! jun, sub! reader, crying from pleasure and pain, dacryphilia, loud moans (for both of them), possessiveness, creampie, clit stimulation
🎧 ➙ No sense by Justin Bieber ⋮ Fetish by Selena Gomez ⋮ Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey
𝐀/𝐍 ➙ ahh I adore this story so much!! I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’m usually known for my angst works, so I guess this is my moment to shine hahaha. please don’t hesitate to click out or skip the explicit parts if they make you uncomfortable — this one gets a little intense with the kinktober themes 😭 anyways, reblogs (w/ or w/o tags) are always appreciated. love you lots!!
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The house was older than your name.
It stood past the last turn of the countryside road, half-swallowed by the forest, where even the birds refused to sing. The lawyer had given you the address over a call that sounded static, voice clipped, rushed — like he didn’t want to linger on the topic too long.
“An inheritance, Miss L/N,” he’d said. “A private estate. Been untouched for years. You’re the last living relative.” “Relative of who?” you’d asked. “Of the previous owner, Miss Wen.. if I remember correctly. Distant, very distant. She had no direct heirs. You might want to- ah -look through the documents yourself.”
The call ended before you could ask more.
Now, standing at the foot of the property, suitcase in hand, you realised how words could never have prepared you for this.
It was enormous, but not in the modern sense. The house was alive in its decay — a mansion of forgotten gold and black wood, wrapped in ivy that crawled like veins up the cracked stone. The windows glowed faintly amber, reflecting the dying sun. Even the wind that brushed against your skin felt heavy with something unsaid.
“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, pushing the rusted gates open. “Creepy, but not.. haunted. Hopefully.”
Your footsteps echoed across the gravel path leading up to the grand doors. Each step felt like trespassing on someone’s memory. When you finally pushed the door open, it didn’t screech or fight you like an old hinge should — it sighed, like the house itself was breathing you in.
The first thing that hit you was the smell — grass and rain, faint but fresh, like someone had opened a window minutes ago. The foyer stretched out before you, the chandelier above still glittering under years of dust. Paintings lined the walls. Not landscapes, not still lifes — just portraits. Of the same man.
You paused in front of one. He was handsome in a way that felt wrong for being immortalised in oil paint — sharp jaw, dark, tousled hair that falls around his neck in soft layers, eyes are gentle yet piercing. Scattered across his skin are small, striking moles — near his lips, another on his cheek, and gracing his forehead — as if even the universe couldn’t resist marking beauty where it found it.
Someone had painted him with devotion. You leaned closer. “Whoever you were,” you whispered, “you were definitely the favourite.”
The next few hours passed in quiet exploration. Every room was preserved — sheets draped over furniture, candles that looked half-burned but untouched by time, books still open mid-page on desks. It was eerie, yes, but also intimate. Like someone had just stepped out of the room and would return any minute.
By dusk, exhaustion caught up with you. You found the master bedroom on the second floor — and stopped cold. It was clean. No dust. The bed was made perfectly, the sheets turned down as though waiting. There was even a small vase by the window, a single white rose standing tall in it. You frowned.
“Someone’s been here,” you murmured. Then, louder, calling out just in case, “Hello? Is anyone-?” Silence. Except the faint hum of wind through the old vents. You hesitated, then sighed. “Guess I’ll just lock the door.”
The bed was too soft. Too inviting. You sat down anyway. The pillow smelled faintly of cedar and musk, a scent that didn’t belong to you. Still, the fatigue was pulling you under, and you let your eyes close for just a moment.
—
A breath brushed your neck. So real, so warm, it made every hair on your body stand on end. “You came back.” You bolted upright, eyes scanning the room. “Who’s there?” Nothing. Only the curtains swaying even though the windows were closed.
Your heart hammered as you reached for your phone flashlight. Its glow hit the mirror across the room — and froze you in place. In the reflection, someone stood behind you. A man, tall and pale, dressed in white collared shirt, neckline framing a single pearl necklace that adds a delicate contrast to his look.
Over it, he wears a black tweed jacket interwoven with silver threads, catching light in subtle glints. His expression wasn’t threatening. If anything, he looked relieved. He smiled softly. “You shouldn’t be afraid. I’ve waited long enough.”
You turned around. Empty. Your throat felt dry. “I’m-” You laughed weakly to yourself, trying to shake it off. “definitely calling the real estate agent tomorrow.”
You climbed back into bed, pulling the blanket tightly around your shoulders. But your body refused to relax. When your breathing finally steadied, you noticed something that made your pulse skip again. Your dress.
It had slipped halfway off your shoulder, your collarbone bare. And on your skin, faint as breath, was the outline of a handprint. You stared at it until your eyes blurred, until the scent of roses filled the air, until sleep pulled you back into the dark.
And somewhere, between waking and dreaming, you heard him whisper again — closer this time, almost tender “I’m glad you’re back, Wen Y/N.”
Morning came gently — too gently for an abandoned place. The light that poured through the curtains was soft and gold, catching the dust in the air like glitter. You sat up slowly, your body still wrapped in that hazy, half-remembered dream. There was no handprint now. No scent of smoke or roses. Just quiet.
“Okay,” you whispered, rubbing your eyes. “Maybe I just freaked myself out.” You checked your phone. Now we’re talking. I can definitely live here, there's a signal. It showed the time, 7:43 a.m. You must’ve slept like a rock.
After washing up with the little water that still ran in the bathroom sink, you wandered downstairs. The house looked different in daylight — less ominous, more tragically beautiful. Every surface was layered with dust except for a few areas: the stairs’ rail, the main hallway, the parlour table. Like someone had constantly wiped them.
You knelt beside one of the portraits in the living room and dusted it gently with your sleeve. The man’s painted gaze met yours again, unblinking and patient. His eyes were dark brown, almost gold under the varnish.
There were at least eight portraits in the entire house, all of him. Each painted a little differently: one in uniform, another in casual robes, another holding a book. You moved to the last one by the fireplace — this time, he wasn’t alone.
A woman stood beside him. The artist hadn’t captured her face clearly, but she wore a white dress and veil, hand resting delicately on the man’s arm. A wedding portrait. You tilted your head, curiosity pricking at you. “So.. you were married,” you murmured, brushing the edge of the frame. “And I’m guessing your wife didn’t inherit the place. Lucky me.”
You took a step back, hands on your hips. The house was huge, but not unmanageable. You could make it feel like home again. So you started cleaning.
At first, it was just idle — opening windows, letting air in, humming faintly under your breath. But then something strange happened. The longer you worked, the more you noticed subtle traces of order that weren’t yours: beds already made, a vase refilled with white roses, curtains tied back differently. Someone — or something — had been maintaining this house all along.
You shook your head, deciding to distract yourself before your imagination spiraled like last night. Grabbing your phone, you opened your messages to message your best friend.
Y/N: guess who inherited a horror movie set 😭
Hao 😈: LMAOOO don’t tell me it’s that creepy old mansion your mom mentioned??
Y/N: yeah. the one with zero neighbors and 800 ghosts per square meter
Hao 😈: pls send pics 😭😭
Y/N: hold up
You snapped a few photos: the cracked chandelier, the grand staircase, one of the portraits — you didn’t even realise until later that it was the wedding one.
Y/N: okay ngl it’s pretty. like victorian pretty. you should come here.
Hao 😈: looks like somewhere a hot ghost would haunt.
Y/N: stop! 😭😭
Hao 😈: no bc imagine waking up w/ a ghost husband like “good morning my bride” 💀
Y/N: STOP IT HAO I SWEAR I’LL MOVE OUT
Hao 😈: u say that but u also said ur into tragic romance when bored soooo 👀
You laughed out loud, the sound echoing across the empty hall.
Y/N: fine. if a ghost husband appears i’ll let u know so u can write my obituary.
Hao 😈: deal
You pocketed your phone, still smiling. The house felt a little less lonely now. By afternoon, sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, scattering coloured light on the floor. You carried an armful of old books back to the library and froze when you saw one already open on the table — one you knew you hadn’t touched.
Its pages were lined with elegant handwriting. You could barely read the faded ink, but you caught one phrase clearly underlined: “Bound beyond death, by name and vow.” A chill ran down your arms. You shut the book gently, heart thudding. “Okay.. enough cleaning for today.”
Outside, the wind had stopped entirely. The forest was silent. The only sound left in the house was your breathing — and somewhere, faintly, a low hum. Like someone singing through the walls.
The house was quiet that night. Too quiet.
You settled at the desk with your laptop, your only source of light a small lamp you’d brought from your old apartment. The rest of the room lay in shadows, the wallpaper peeling faintly in the corners as if the air itself had been holding its breath for years.
You cracked your knuckles, muttering, “Okay. Chapter sixty-three. Let’s do this.” The blinking cursor greeted you like an old friend.
Your book — To Breathe Again — had been a year in the making, and your editor had been hounding you for pages. The irony of working on a novel about necromancy wasn’t lost on you. You even laughed about it when you messaged Minghao earlier those years.
Y/N: if i start writing ghost love stories don’t pick me up, i’m doing the right thing
Hao 😈: u kinky mf
Y/N: shut up 😒
Hao 😈: ok but if u get possessed can u at least ask the ghost to edit my thesis
You shook your head, smiling to yourself before getting back to work. Hours passed unnoticed, the rhythm of typing filling the silence like a heartbeat. Sometimes you swore you could hear faint footsteps pacing the hallway — the kind that made the wooden floor groan softly, like memory itself stretching awake. Every time you paused to listen, the sound stopped.
Around 2 a.m., you leaned back in your chair and sighed. “One more paragraph,” you told yourself. But the words on the screen blurred together, and your head eventually dipped forward. You must’ve dozed off right there at the desk.
When you woke, it was morning again. The sun slanted through the tall windows, warm on your face. You blinked against the light, you woke up in the bed “ahm.. did I sleep walk here last night?” you mumbled, stretching your arms.
But your body felt sore in a way that didn’t make sense — like you’d been tossing in bed for hours, muscles overworked and trembling faintly. Your nightgown clung to your skin, a little too loose at the collar and ends almost reaching your hips.
You frowned, rubbing your eyes. It hurts. That’s when you noticed your laptop. The document you’d been writing was still open — but your last sentence had changed. Instead of “She pressed her hand against the cold stone altar..” the words now read:
She pressed her hand against the warmth of his chest and whispered, “I’m home.”
Your heart stuttered. You didn’t remember typing that. And yet.. the phrasing sounded exactly like something you would write. You closed the laptop slowly, the faint scent of something — cedar, musk, and roses — lingering in the air, as if someone had been beside you all night, breathing close enough to touch.
The smell of sizzling butter filled the kitchen, the sound of eggs hitting the pan soft and rhythmic. Sunlight pooled faintly through the old lace curtains, dust swirling in golden ribbons. You could almost pretend the house wasn’t haunted — that it was just another quiet morning.
Almost.
You rolled your shoulders, wincing. There was still a deep, dull ache running through your muscles, especially between your thighs. “Did I- sleep weird?” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. You brushed off the thought with a nervous laugh and reached for the salt.
It must’ve been another one of those dreams. The kind that felt too real, too heavy. You remembered flashes — pale fingers tracing your skin, a whisper against your ear. The dream man’s touch had been so vivid that your body still remembered the heat. You’d seen his face this time too, clear and unblurred, framed by soft candlelight.
And it wasn’t just any face.
Your gaze drifted across the kitchen, toward the hallway where the portraits hung — the ones you’d noticed. You froze, spatula hovering midair.
The reflection in the hallway mirror caught him perfectly — the same slanted eyes, the same mouth curved like a secret. You blinked, once, twice, stepping closer to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks.
It was him.
The man from your dreams.
Your stomach dropped, pulse quickening in your throat. He’d been here all along, hanging silently in those frames, watching you from the moment you arrived.
You forced a shaky laugh, brushing stray hair from your face. “Okay. Creepy coincidence. It’s just- just the power of suggestion, right?” you told yourself, trying to sound convinced. “You saw the portrait before bed, your brain mashed it into a dream. Simple.”
The portrait didn’t answer. Behind you, the stove hissed. And for the briefest moment — just before you turned off the heat — you thought you heard a low voice whisper near your ear, soft and familiar “Good morning, my bride.”
You froze mid-breath.. again, every hair on your neck standing up. The voice was right there. Close enough that you could feel the faintest whisper of air brush past your ear. Your body reacted before your brain did.
“WHAT THE!” You spun around with the frying spatula raised like a weapon, egg still clinging to the edge. “WHO’S THERE?! I SWEAR I’LL- I’LL FLIP YOU TO HELL!!”
“Please don’t,” came a calm, almost amused voice from somewhere behind you. It wasn’t echoing, wasn’t hollow — it sounded real. Too real. “You’ll stain the walls with yolk, and I quite like our kitchen.”
Your eyes darting around the empty room. No one. Nothing. Just the faint sound of your pan still sizzling. Your heart hammered against your ribs. “Who- who said that?” Silence. Then, softly: “Jun.”
You blinked. “Jun..? What? Huh- ha?!” A small pause, then a low hum that almost sounded like a chuckle. “So you can hear me. That’s good.”
Your grip tightened on the spatula. “Okay. Either I’m losing it, or I’m being haunted by a polite ghost who cares about kitchen hygiene.” “Haunted?” Jun sounded genuinely offended. “That’s a rather cruel word for a husband, don’t you think?”
You gawked at the air. “Excuse me- husband?!” “Yes.” His tone softened, almost fond. “You’ve been wearing my ring.” You glanced down — and nearly dropped the spatula. On your left hand, glinting faintly in the sunlight, was a thin silver band. You had no idea when it got there.
“Oh hell no,” you whispered, yanking it off. “This is not happening.” Jun’s laugh was gentle, teasing. “You always say that. I miss hearing from you.”
“What- no, no, no! Don’t gaslight me, Casper!” “That’s not my name.” “I don’t care!” you shouted at the air. “You-! Get out of my house! Out! Whatever supernatural lease you think you have here, it’s over!”
“I’m afraid it’s not,” he said lightly. “This house is also mine.. and to you.” You dragged a hand down your face, spatula still clutched tight. “Great. Fantastic. I move into a cursed house, and my new roommate is a ghost husband with boundary issues.”
There was a low, almost bashful chuckle. “You weren’t complaining last night.” You froze, eyes wide. “Excuse me?” But the voice didn’t answer this time — just a faint, amused hum that faded into the creak of the old walls.
You pointed the spatula at the ceiling. “Don’t you dare ghost-laugh at me, Jun!” Somewhere, you swore you heard the faintest echo of a grin in his voice, that made you drop your spatula “You’re cute when you’re angry, my bride.”
—
You sat at the kitchen counter, laptop open, breakfast cold. The spatula still lay on the floor where you’d dropped it mid-crisis. Your phone buzzed beside your plate. You snatched it up like a lifeline.
[Group chat: “Emergency Life Updates (aka Therapy)]
Y/N: besties i think my house is haunted
Hao 😈: LMAOOOO it’s been 3 days, that’s a record. what happened suddenly??
Y/N: some man’s voice called me his wife while i was making eggs
Min 😵💫: ..was he hot at least???
Y/N: I DON’T KNOW I DIDN’T EVEN SEE HIM
Min 😵💫: so u married a ghost sight unseen 💀 bold of u
Y/N: IM NOT MARRIED
Hao 😈: sure kinky mf who’s writing a novel exactly with that plot, i think u manifested it loll
Y/N: also i think he’s a victorian ghost level polite. kept saying “my bride” like bro calm down
Min 😵💫: LMFAO STOPPPP this is going in my notes. “haunted by horny regency ghost”
Y/N: NO 😭😭
Hao 😈: did u check the portraits u sent me? maybe he’s one of those men 👀
Y/N: that’s the thing. IT’S HIM.
Hao 😈: oh.
Min 😵💫: …babe.
Hao 😈: are u sure ur not just having like, a super vivid lucid dream? u do write romance for a living.
Y/N: im literally wide awake and my ghost just argued with me about kitchen cleanliness
Hao 😈: sounds husband material to me. when’s the wedding??
Min 😵💫: more like when was the wedding LMAOOO
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Why are my friends like this,” you muttered aloud. Why is Mingyu missing out of all times.. Seokmin and Minghao are no help. From somewhere down the hall, a familiar voice replied, low and teasing, “Are you in distress?”
You shrieked and nearly dropped your phone. “HAO HE’S HERE AGAIN.”
Hao 😈: ok listen before u start performing an exorcism, record it. i want receipts.
Y/N: u want me to RECORD THE DEMON?
Hao 😈: for science.
Y/N: i hate you.
You peeked over your shoulder, heart pounding. “Jun?” “I’m here,” came the smooth reply, closer now. “You don’t need to shout, my love.” You stiffened. “Don’t call me that!” “I can’t,” he said softly, like it was the saddest truth in the world. “You’re all I have left.”
The words hung in the air, so gentle it almost made you forget the absurdity of the moment. Almost. You typed one last message with shaky fingers.
Y/N: ok yeah maybe the ghost husband is kinda sad and not bad
Min 😵💫: so u admit he’s hot
Y/N: BLOCKED.
You set your phone down, exhaling deeply. “Okay.. Jun,” you muttered, scanning the empty room. “If we’re really doing this ghost tenant thing, why are you still here?” A quiet laugh brushed your ear like wind.
“Devotion. It ties me to the house.. to you.” You groaned. “Oh my god. He’s poetic too.”
It started the same way it had the last two nights. The soft creak of floorboards. The faint shift of weight on the mattress. The air cooling around you as if someone had opened a window. You didn’t move this time.
“Jun,” you whispered into the dark. “You’re here again, aren’t you?” Silence, then “I always am.” His voice came from beside you, smooth as velvet, threaded with something ancient. “You sleep so restlessly when I’m not.” “I sleep restlessly because there’s a ghost in my bed,” you muttered, sitting up halfway.
“Do you even.. sleep?” He chuckled, the sound low and fond. “No. Not anymore.” You exhaled through your nose, squinting into the faint light spilling through the curtains. “Okay, let’s try this again. Who are you, Jun?”
“I’ve told you,” he said gently. “I am your husband.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s not an answer. A name and a marital claim don’t explain why I wake up sore, by the way.” A pause. His voice softened, almost guilty. “I haven’t touched you without your consent.”
You arched a brow toward the darkness. “Really? Because my sore thighs say otherwise.” “I swear it.” His tone deepened, steady and earnest. “Your body aches from something else — the remnants of the bond. The house.. it remembers. And through it, so does your body.”
“The house remembers?” you repeated, half a scoff, half a laugh. “Jun, that’s not- that’s not even science. That’s..” “Magic,” he finished for you, quiet but unyielding.
You stared at the shadows for a long moment. “You expect me to believe that I’m some reincarnated bride living in a haunted love nest?” “I don’t expect you to believe,” he murmured. “Only to listen.”
Your throat tightened — something about the way he said it felt real. Too real. You tried to sound casual. “Then why are you here? Why can’t you just.. move on? Find peace, cross the afterlife, whatever ghosts are supposed to do.”
A silence. Then the faintest brush of a cold fingertip against your wrist — hesitant, reverent. “Because my peace was buried with you.” You froze. “You’ve got the wrong girl,” you whispered, voice trembling despite yourself.
“Perhaps,” Jun said softly. “But tell me, why do you wake up with my name on your lips?” You blinked, stunned. “I- I don’t.” “You do,” he said simply. There was no arrogance in it, only sorrow.
You fell quiet for a moment, staring at the darkness that felt far too alive. “You really didn’t do anything?” “No,” he said, and this time his voice was gentle enough to make you believe him. “Only kissed you when you were dreaming. You looked so lonely.”
Your heart squeezed. “That’s still technically not consent.” He laughed quietly, the sound curling through the air like smoke. “Then I’ll ask properly next time.”
You sighed, lying back down. “There’s not going to be a next time.” “I said that once too,” he murmured. You pulled the blanket over your face, trying to hide your smile. “You’re so dramatic for someone dead.”
“I was dramatic before I died,” he countered, teasing now. “You said you liked it.” You turned to where you thought he was, whispering, “You talk too much.” “And you listen too little.”
Somewhere between his chuckle and your quiet hum of annoyance, your eyes slipped closed. The bed dipped slightly, just enough for you to feel the outline of someone lying beside you. And though you told yourself you didn’t believe in ghosts, you still whispered, just before sleep took you,
“Goodnight, Jun.” A hand — cold but gentle — brushed your hair back. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
—
You pushed the front door open with your shoulder, grocery bags cutting into your fingers, sunlight spilling in behind you.
“Jun!” you called out, voice echoing across the empty living room. “I was literally talking to you outside for ten minutes simply about if you do eat or not, and then I realised-” You paused dramatically, setting the bags down on the counter. “You weren’t even there!”
There was a soft hum from somewhere near the hallway — warm, amused. “Why are you talking to yourself outside?” Jun said. You glared toward the voice. “Don’t turn this on me. The delivery guy looked at me like I’d lost my mind. I thought you’re with me. This past few weeks, you never leave me alone”
He chuckled quietly, the sound wrapping around you. “Would you rather I scare other people half to death? Also, I can’t help you outside anyway”
You huffed, unpacking the paper bags. “Still. You could’ve… I don’t know. Come with me? You never go out.” There was a pause — not defensive, just words. “I can’t,” he said simply. Your hands stilled on a carton of milk. “Can’t?”
“The house is my boundary,” he explained. “My anchor. I’m bound here — by the curse, by memory, by you. Step beyond the threshold and I start to fade.” You turned toward the sound, heart softening. “That’s awful.”
“It’s tolerable,” he murmured. “I was alone here for so long before you came.” Your chest tightened. “Jun..” He spoke again, light but wistful. “Besides, I like it here. You fill the rooms with noise and scent and warmth. It’s almost enough to feel alive again.”
You rolled your eyes — to hide the sudden pang of emotion. “You sound like a bad poem.” “I was a bad poet once,” he teased. “You threw my drafts into the fire.” You froze mid-unpacking. “What?” He laughed, low and delighted. “Ah — perhaps that was another life.”
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “You’re insufferable.” “I missed being called that,” he said softly.
The quiet after that settled gently, like a comfortable silence between old friends, or husband and wife..? You busied yourself with arranging the vegetables, pretending you didn’t notice the way the air thickened slightly around you — Jun standing close, unseen but undeniably there.
“Hey,” you said after a moment. “If you can’t go out.. what do you do all day when I’m gone?” “I watch,” he said simply. “Creepy.” “Protectively,” he amended, amused. “I walk through the halls. Listen to the wind. Sometimes I read over your shoulder when you’re writing.”
You shot a look toward the dark corner of the kitchen. “That’s definitely creepy.” “Then perhaps,” he said, voice warm with laughter, “I’ll keep doing it.” You couldn’t help it — you laughed too, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, Jun.”
“I was told I made an impossible husband,” he said, tone dipping into something soft, almost nostalgic. “But I like to think I’m improving.” You ignored the way your heart skipped. “Keep the flattery for someone you can actually touch.”
Another pause — this one quieter, heavier. Then: “I can touch you.. just to remind you,” he murmured.
You swallowed, suddenly unsure what to say. The light from the window dimmed as clouds rolled in outside, shadows crawling gently across the old wood floor. You pretended to focus on your groceries again, voice light but trembling slightly.
“Well,” you said, “if you’re going to touch me, at least help me unpack next time.” A faint rustle answered you — the bag of rice shifting slightly on its own, sliding closer to the cabinet.
You froze. Then laughed, a soft disbelieving sound. “Show-off.” From behind you hear his amused whisper, low and tender “Only for my wife.”
—
It was past midnight, the kind of hour where even the wind outside seemed half-asleep. The house was wrapped in silence, save for the soft rustle of paper as you turned another page of your book. The lamp beside your bed cast a warm circle of light that didn’t quite reach the corners of the room, where the dark always seemed to breathe.
You could feel him there. “Jun,” you said quietly, without looking up. “Are you here?” A pause — then that familiar voice, soft and close. “I’m always here.”
You smiled faintly, still reading. “That’s supposed to be comforting, right?” “I suppose that depends,” he murmured, “on whether you believe I’m haunting you or protecting you.”
You tilted your head toward the voice. “You keep saying you’re not haunting me, but it sure feels like it sometimes.” “Would a haunt make your tea every morning?” he teased gently.
“That was you?” You blinked. “I thought I was just.. sleepwalking.” “I can’t do much,” he said quietly, “but I can move little things when the night is kind to me.”
You shut the book slowly, the words blurring. “Why do you do it?” “Because you forget to take care of yourself when you write,” he said simply. “You get lost. I don’t want to see you vanish the way I did.”
Your breath caught. “The way you did?” He didn’t answer at first — only silence, deep and heavy, filled the room. Then, softly “I loved too fiercely. Enough to tether my soul here.” You looked toward the darkness, where you thought his voice had come from. “For her? Your wife?”
A faint laugh, like wind through old glass. “For you.” The room suddenly felt colder, your heart lurching against your ribs. “Jun, that’s-” “I know,” he interrupted gently. “It doesn’t make sense. Not to you. Not yet.”
You pulled the blanket tighter around you, eyes scanning the space though you knew you wouldn’t see him. “You sound like a tragic novel waiting to happen.” “Perhaps that’s why you were drawn here,” he said softly. “Writers always return to unfinished stories.”
You exhaled, half a sigh, half a shaky laugh. “You make everything sound like fate.” “Isn’t it?” His voice was closer now — you swore you felt the faintest brush of fingers along your hair, so gentle you might’ve imagined it.
“You should sleep,” he murmured. “The world outside can wait.” “Are you staying?” you asked, eyes drooping. “I never left.” You smiled faintly, a small surrender, before your eyelids fluttered closed.
Jun stayed — unseen but so achingly near, his presence hovering like a heartbeat in the dark. And when your breathing evened out, his whisper came, softer than a sigh “You once told me you’d find me again. I suppose you always keep your promises.”
The cafe was the kind that looked like a Pinterest board come to life — soft lighting, fern leaves drooping over every table, the faint hum of an espresso machine mixing with lo-fi music. You sat by the window with your laptop open, pretending to edit your manuscript while your three best friends interrogated you like you were on trial.
“So,” Hao started, sipping his iced latte dramatically, “how’s married life?” You choked on your drink. “What- excuse me?” Min snorted. “Don’t play dumb. You literally sent us a picture of another portrait and said, He’s kinda hot for a dead guy. Don’t tell me you’re not crushing on the house ghost.”
You pressed your fingers against your temple. “I was joking!” “Were you, though?” Gyu cut in, deadpan as ever. “You also texted last night that someone made you tea again. Either you have a kind spirit or a trespasser with excellent domestic skills.”
Seokmin gasped theatrically. “Or maybe both!” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “He’s a ghost.” “Then why are you blushing?” Minghao leaned forward with a grin. “Look at her, Seok- she’s blushing!”
“I am not!” you hissed, but your cheeks burned hotter than the cappuccino in front of you. “He’s just..” You stopped, realising how ridiculous it would sound to admit that Jun talked to you every night. That he teased you, cared for you, comforted you in ways that humans can’t even do.
Mingyu leaned back, stirring his coffee lazily. “You’re acting like you’ve got a boyfriend who only comes out after dark.” You glared at him. “He’s not my boyfriend.” Seokmin propped his chin on his hands. “Not yet.”
Hao laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink. “God, this is gonna be one of her novels, isn’t it? Lonely writer moves into a haunted house, ghost falls in love with her, she says it’s a curse, but he says it’s destiny-”
“Stop quoting my life!” you interrupted, waving your spoon like a weapon. “You guys are the worst.” “We’re the realists,” Min said, still smirking. “You just happen to be living inside your own plot twist.”
For a moment, they all laughed, that kind of carefree, echoing laugh that only happens in midday cafes. You joined in too, trying to drown out the strange warmth you felt under your ribs.
Your laughter stuttered, your eyes darting toward the window. The glass reflected only you and your friends — no one else. You sometimes think every time you’re outside, is he bored at home? Is he okay? That quiet presence. A part of you just wants to stay at home.
“See?” Min teased, nudging you. “She’s spacing out. Probably thinking about her ghost husband.” You forced a laugh, looking back at him, heart racing. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Something like that.”
The cafe hummed with lazy afternoon chatter. You sat across from Minghao, Seokmin, and Mingyu, who somehow turned what was supposed to be a casual catch-up into a full-blown roast session.
“You’re into ghosts now, huh? So that’s why you’re not dating anyone alive?” Hao said, chuckling. You jabbed a straw at him. “Minghao, I swear to God-” Gyu raised an eyebrow. “What’s his name again?” You hesitated. The word caught on your tongue. “Jun.”
All three of them stared for a beat before Min smirked. “Jun? You even named him?” “I didn’t name him!” you said quickly. “That’s what he-” You froze. “That’s what his real wife, maybe, called him.”
“Right.” Mingyu nodded, clearly unconvinced. “So this ghost talks to you, cooks for you, and sleeps beside you-” “He doesn’t sleep beside me!” you blurted, heat rising to your cheeks. “He just- he-” “Uh-huh.” Seokmin grinned. “You’re doomed, man. She’s in deep.”
You tried to laugh it off, but your pulse was unsteady. Because later, when you were back home and the house greeted you with that quiet stillness, the laughter from earlier still echoed faintly in your head — you called Jun, yet no one was responding.
You frowned. He always answered when you came home. Even just a faint, teasing whisper — You’re late, little human. But tonight, nothing. Just the quiet hum of air through the vents and the faint ticking of the antique clock in the foyer.
“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, forcing a laugh. “So we’re doing the ghost-silent-treatment thing now? Cute.” You busied yourself in the kitchen, slamming a cabinet or two a little louder than necessary. Still nothing. The quiet felt heavier now — not the peaceful kind, but the kind that watches you.
“Jun.” You called again, voice sharper. “If you’re mad at me for something, at least say it. Don’t just.. vanish.” The air stirred faintly behind you, like a breath on your neck. You turned, but the space was empty. A shiver ran down your arms.
“Come on. Don’t tell me you’re sulking because I went out with my friends.” You rolled your eyes, more to convince yourself than anything. “You’re not seriously mad, right?” Still nothing. You exhaled. “Fine. Silent treatment it is. You win. I’ll just talk to myself then.”
You started rambling, pacing the living room like a stand-up comic trying to fill dead air. “For the record, they’re friends. Normal, breathing, alive friends who buy me coffee and don’t haunt my house.”
The chandelier above flickered faintly. You stopped. “Did I strike a nerve there?” A faint hum of energy prickled across your skin — the sign that he was listening, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
You sighed, softer now. “You know, it’s kind of unfair. You disappear when I talk to other people, but then you act like I’m supposed to just stay here waiting for you to materialise out of thin air.” The silence stretched.
You pressed your lips together. “I’m not yours, Jun.”
That’s when you heard it — not a loud voice, but something that slid into your mind like a thought that wasn’t yours. “Aren’t you?” You froze. The temperature dropped suddenly, enough for your breath to fog in front of you.
“You wear my ring,” his voice murmured now, closer, though he still wasn’t visible. “You live in my house. You sleep in my bed. You call my name every night without realising it.”
You spun toward the sound. “You didn’t answer when I came home. You scared me.” “I know.” The reply was soft, low, guilty — but underneath it, something darker stirred. “You talked about me with them,” Jun continued, voice drifting between the walls, nearer and nearer. “You laughed. You blushed. Did you enjoy that?”
“Jun,” you warned, heart pounding, “how did you even-? Don’t do this.” He let out a breath of what almost sounded like a laugh. “You think I don’t feel it? Every time someone says your name, every time you smile at someone else, it burns.”
Your pulse quickened, a strange mix of fear and warmth tightening in your chest. “You’re not even alive, Jun. What are you implying?” “Maybe not,” he whispered. “But you still make me feel it.”
You swallowed hard, staring at the faint outline of his form starting to shimmer near the hallway mirror — not solid yet, just smoke and memory. “Then don’t disappear like that again,” you said quietly. “If you can feel something, then talk to me. Don’t just.. leave.”
For a heartbeat, nothing. Then the faintest smile crossed his half-formed face. “You missed me.” You scoffed. “You were sulking.” “I was angry,” he corrected. “Because for a moment, I thought maybe you preferred your men.” You looked at the mirror — at his faint, sorrowful expression behind your reflection.
“They're not my men.. they’re my friends. You’re impossible,” you whispered. “And you,” Jun said softly, “are the only thing I’ve wanted in centuries.”
The room stilled. The air grew warmer. You felt the ghost of fingers trace the outline of your wrist — not cold, but not quite warm either. Just real enough to make you tremble.
Jun's reflection leaned closer, his gaze locked on your lips. His hands moved from your wrist to either side of your head, trapping you gently between his ghostly palms. “Say you're mine,” he whispered, his voice low and urgent.
You didn’t answer. He held your hands and pulled you near the mirror, “Do you need to see me, for you to talk?” he said, a little annoyed, you’re not sure whether to you or to himself. You looked directly at the mirror, memorising his ethereal face.
His hands framed your face, thumbs gently brushing your cheeks as he stared into your eyes, making you look at his direction directly, nothing, you can see nothing. But you could feel his presence, his breath ghosting over your neck. “I'm not in the mirror, my wife” he murmured, voice coming from both directions. “I'm here.”
The ghostly hands slid from your cheeks to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. He leaned in closer, his translucent lips hovering just above yours. “Let me kiss you,” he whispered against your mouth. “Please.”
You smiled.. “only because you asked this time.” Jun's reflection smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He loved when you teased him, even a little. It meant you weren't scared of him. “Only because I asked?” He repeated softly, his voice ghosting over your lips. “You admitted before that you did without my consent.”
His expression turned serious, one hand moving to gently grasp your chin, turning your face slightly as if preparing to kiss you but stopping himself. “I’m sorry. That was my mistake.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “This time.. will be different.”
He stared at you intently, his hands steady and gentle. “I'll ask for permission every time. I'll wait for your agreement. And if you say no, I'll stop.” His voice was quiet, sincere. His eyes searched yours, looking for understanding.
You parted your lips slightly to answer. “Then go on.” That was all Jun needed. He surged forward, capturing your mouth softly at first. He tested your response — one hand cupped your cheek possessively while the other slid around your waist. You hummed softly, making him deeper. Now this is weird but also kinda hot.. I’m kissing the air.
Jun’s kiss grew more insistent, his tongue gently probing your mouth. He tasted sweet, like a phantom memory of honey and mint. His hands roamed from your waist downwards until they gripped onto your hips firmly pulling you closer towards him. You can feel him.
You gasped against his mouth as he pulled you closer, his cold hands gripping your hips tightly. Jun took advantage of your open mouth, deepening the kiss even further by pushing his tongue inside. He tangled it with yours, exploring your mouth thoroughly as if he was trying to memorise the taste of you. “Fucking hell, you taste like heaven.”
“For someone who’s dead, you curse so strongly.” You said laughing in between the kisses. In the mirror, you can see him smirking against your lips, his voice husky and amused. “Even ghosts can curse when they’re kissing someone they’ve been longing for.” His hands slid down to your thighs lifting them slightly as if trying to pull them around his waist.
You giggled, the sound muffled against his mouth. Jun groaned, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. He pulled harder, attempting to wrap your legs around his unseen waist. The mirror grew warmer, fogging up completely as their kiss grew more intense, more desperate.
“Jun.. my imaginations may be wild, yet I can’t do this to someone I can only see in the mirror”
Jun’s smirk faltered. For a second, his reflection looked as though it was flickering — as if even his smile could no longer hold shape. Then he stepped back, his eyes dark and distant. “You can’t see me because you’re not supposed to.”
Before you could ask what that meant, his hand — cold but firm — grasped your wrist. The mirror rippled like water as he pulled you through the hallway. You stumbled after him, feet barely touching the ground, until you reached a door you had never opened before. It was the last one at the end of the corridor at the third floor — carved oak, locked since the day you moved in.
“Jun, wait-” But the door creaked open on its own, revealing a dimly lit room heavy with the scent of old wood and faded perfume. Dust particles drifted lazily in the air, but beneath the decay, everything was preserved. A canopy bed stood at the center, its sheets neat, untouched. A wedding veil lay folded at the pillow’s edge.
“This room” you whispered. “I never-” “Because you weren’t meant to remember it.”
Jun’s voice was quieter now, stripped of playfulness, stripped of warmth. He stood by the window, you can’t even see his figure under the pale afternoon light. You could see the garden though — but you know his eyes were solid, endless, tired.
“You walk through this house like a stranger because you are one. But once, you weren’t.” Your chest tightened. “What are you saying?” He looked at you, a faint tremor in his hands. “You can’t see me because you can’t even remember who I am.”
The words felt like a knife — sharp, but dull in disbelief. “That’s impossible. I just moved here. I just-” Jun shook his head. “No. You came back.” He stepped closer. His voice softened, trembling with a kind of desperation you’d never heard from him before.
“You promised me you would, before you died.” Your breath caught. “Died?” “Before you died,” he said again, slower this time, as if tasting every syllable. “You said you would find me. You said, ‘Wait for me. Even if it takes lifetimes, I’ll come back.’”
You blinked rapidly, a faint ringing in your ears. Your mind refused to accept it — but your body remembered something. A pulse in your fingertips. A flash of a wedding ring. A man’s laughter. A voice saying My Jun.
He continued, eyes glimmering like glass. “I remembered everything. That’s my curse. I have lived every life remembering you — who you were, how you died, how you looked at me the day we said our vows. Every damn lifetime.”
The room felt like it was spinning. You staggered back a step and looked around the room, dizzy. That’s where you realise, this room is the real master bedroom, with another portrait.. where Jun and the same woman from downstairs. The difference is that you could see her face clearly now.
A face that is very familiar to you. A face that you see everyday. It’s your face. It’s you. “No.. Jun, that can’t be real. That’s-” “You’ve always said that,” he whispered. “Every life. Every time we meet, you never remember at first. But I always do. And every time, I find you.”
You shook your head, heart pounding painfully. “Then why am I here? Why this house?” “Because it’s where we lived,” Jun said simply. “Where I built a home for you. And where I died waiting when you didn’t come back.”
Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He looked around the room, his gaze softening with memory. “They called it devotion. I called it punishment. I’ve been bound here, in this house, between life and death, waiting for you. Every creak of the floorboards, every breeze through the window — it’s been you I’ve been calling.”
You sank onto the edge of the bed, the veil beside you brushing against your hands. “Then.. I died?” Jun nodded slowly. “You did. In this life, you lost control of your car the day before our wedding anniversary. You were coming here.” He knelt before you, his touch barely grazing your knee, but warm now, almost human.
“You survived,” he whispered. “But you lost your memory. You forgot me.” Tears burned your eyes before you even realised you were crying. “So that’s why I can’t see you. Because part of me still refuses to remember.”
Jun smiled sadly, brushing your tears away with fingers that faded halfway through the motion. “You can’t see me because you don’t believe in me anymore. And without your belief, I’m barely here.”
You tried reaching out to touch him, his hands guiding your hands to his face — his cheek, his hair, anything solid — but your hand passed through his face like mist.
Until it didn’t.
Warmth bloomed under your touch. Solid. Living. Real. You gasped softly, feeling your heartbeat stumble as Jun’s features sharpened in front of you — the faint curve of his smile, the mole beneath his eye, the soft slope of his nose. He was no longer just a shimmer in the mirror; he was right there.
He was beautiful. And familiar. He’s divine.
The air pulsed once and then everything tilted. The floor beneath your feet dissolved, colours shifting, walls melting into light. You blinked and suddenly, the world changed.
Sunlight streamed through the canopy of white sakura trees, their petals falling like snow. You stood under an arch woven with lilies and pearls, your hands trembling as Jun slid a ring onto your finger.
“Do you promise to haunt me even if I die first?” you teased, your voice catching from laughter and tears. Jun’s lips curved into that same half-smile you’d later dream about. “I’d rather haunt the world than live in it without you.”
You threw your head back, laughing softly, pressing your forehead to his. “That sounds like a curse.”He smiled against your lips. “Then I’ll gladly be cursed.”
—
You stood in front of the house you live in now — only brighter, newer. Boxes piled high on the porch, sunlight filtering through the vines climbing the walls. Jun appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Our forever home,” he said, kissing your temple.
“It’s old,” you murmured. “And it creaks.” “So do we, sometimes.” You laughed, swatting at him. “That’s not romantic.”
He leaned closer, whispering, “Then let me try again.” He kissed your shoulder gently. “Our love will creak too, old, stubborn, and impossible to let go.”
—
The sound of clinking porcelain. You sat at the wooden kitchen table, hair still messy from sleep, while Jun poured you tea with that same careful grace he did everything with.
He kissed the back of your hand. “You always forget breakfast when you write.” “And you always act like I’ll starve in two hours,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully.
“Because you will,” he replied, sliding the cup toward you. “My wife, the novelist who forgets she has a body.” You smiled, reaching out to tug him closer by the tie. “You talk too much hubby.”
He chuckled. “I love you” you smiled “I love you more”
—
The clock struck midnight, the house silent except for the faint hum of the record player. You were in your pajamas, barefoot on the hardwood floor. Jun appeared behind you, holding out his hand.
“Dance with me,” he said simply. “There’s no music.” “There’s us.”
You laughed, slipping your hand into his. He spun you once, your laughter echoing in the dim light. The two of you swayed lazily, the world shrinking to the warmth of his hands on your waist and the sound of your quiet breaths syncing together.
—
Thunder boomed outside, rain drumming against the windows. You were both huddled in front of the fireplace, wrapped in a single blanket. “Tell me something true,” you murmured, tracing his palm with your finger.
Jun’s gaze softened. “When I first saw you, I thought I had seen you before. Like in a dream that I’d already lived.” “And did you?” you asked.
His silence was long, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Maybe I’ll tell you in another life.” You frowned. “That’s unfair.” “Then stay with me in this one,” he whispered, voice low, almost pleading.
Both of you laughed, as the warmth between you two became one, cuddling at the stormy weather at the bed.
—
“Jun, stop reading over my shoulder!” you groaned, swatting him lightly with your pen. “I can’t help it,” he said, grinning. “Your characters sound like us.” “They do not.”
“They do. ‘The stubborn man who won’t take no for an answer,’” he quoted dramatically, pointing to the page. “That’s clearly me.” You threw a crumpled paper at him. “Then I’ll kill your character next.”
“Then I’ll haunt you,” he teased, eyes glimmering. You rolled your eyes. “Then I’ll marry you out of guilt.” “Perfect. My plan worked.”
—
Sunlight peeked through sheer curtains, painting soft stripes across the bed. Jun’s arm was draped lazily around your waist, his chest rising and falling behind you.
“Jun,” you murmured sleepily. “You’re heavy.” He chuckled, half-asleep. “You used to like it.” “I changed my mind.” He buried his face into your hair. “Too late. You married me.”
You sighed, smiling to yourself. “You’re impossible.” He kissed your shoulder. “So are you. That’s why it works.”
—
The dining room was dim except for candles you hastily lit on a lopsided cake. Jun entered the room and froze, eyes widening as you yelled, “Happy birthday!” “I told you not to-”
“You think I listen to you?” you said, grinning. “Make a wish before I eat it all.” He stared at you for a moment before blowing the candles out. “I already did.”
You blinked. “What’d you wish for?” He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “To live long enough to grow old with you.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “That’s so cheesy.”
But he smiled softly. “Cheesy things are true things.”
—
The smell of oil paint filled the room. You sat by the window, sunlight catching in your hair while Jun worked on a portrait of you. “You’re taking forever,” you complained, swinging your legs.
He looked up from the canvas, smirking. “You move too much.” “I’m bored.” “Then talk to me.” You tilted your head. “What should I say?”
“Say something I can remember,” he said. You smiled. “I love you.” He paused, brush mid-air. “That’ll do.”
The memories collided with reality, your breath ragged as you stumbled back. The house, the mirror, the kitchen — everything shimmered and settled again into the dim golden light of dusk.
You were crying. Not from fear, but from the weight of recognition. “Jun,” you whispered, your hands trembling as they cupped his face. “I remember everything.”
Jun smiled through the tears shining in his eyes. His thumb brushed the corner of your lips like he’d done a thousand times before. “You came back to me.”
Your lips trembled. “And you waited.” He nodded once, a soft, broken laugh escaping him. “Every lifetime.”
His smile turned into a hungry kiss as he pressed you against the old bed where you shared countless moments together you’ve forgotten. His hands roamed over familiar curves remembered through centuries of waiting — for this exact moment where memory returned fully between two souls meant to be entwined forever.
His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kissed along your jawline. Suddenly, he pressed a cold finger to your neck, activating a necromantic chill that made you gasp and arch into him. “Do you remember my touch?” He whispered huskily
A wicked smile spread across his face as he remembered your kinks. He reached over to the bedside table and lit a candle, the flame flickering to life in the dim room. He started playing with temperatures, his breath, his touch being entirely cold, and the candle.. the wax. He dribbled hot wax onto your collarbone, watching as you gasped and your eyes fluttered closed. He knew exactly what you liked.
He kissed down your neck, his mouth alternately hot and cold like fire and ice. “Wife.. you taste so good.” His lips trailed open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone with wax on it as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, revealing more skin for him to worship.
One hand continued the slow torture of dripping hot wax onto your skin while the other hand slipped under your bra, teasing your nipple with cold fingertips. “Cold or hot first?” He didn't wait for an answer, switching between hot wax poured onto your chest and his ice-cold hands caressing your skin.
This leaves you shivering and gasping beneath his touch. He unhooked your bra, throwing it somewhere as he continued his assault on your senses, his mouth claiming one hardening nipple while his fingers played with the other.
Junhui worshipped your body like he’d been starved for centuries — because he had been. His mouth trailed down to your stomach, kissing and licking each inch of skin he uncovered. He unbuttoned your pants slowly, almost reverently, pulling them down your legs along with your underwear.
He spread your legs gently, his cold hands contrasting with the heat of your core. He leaned down, blowing a cool breath over your clit before he spoke. “I remember everything about you. Every moan, every gasp, every shiver.”
“And I remember how you used to drive me crazy with that mouth of yours.” You spread your legs wider, teasing him deliberately. Jun groaned, pressing a freezing cold kiss directly onto your clit. “Stop teasing me with your knowledge of my body,”
His cold tongue replaced his lips, licking a slow path up your slit before sucking your clit into his mouth. He used his fingers to spread you open further, his ice-cold digits pushing inside you suddenly. You gasped and bucked against him. “Uhmm-hmm jun..” “You used to call me hubby.” He murmured.
“My hubby,” He growled against your sensitive folds, his fingers curling inside you while his tongue worked overtime on your clit. He remembered every spot that made you moan hubby. His other hand snaked up to pinch one of your nipples hard, making you arch into him.
“You used to grab my hair and fuck my face when I do this..” He demonstrated by sucking hard on your clit while pushing three cold fingers deep inside you, curling them exactly how you used to love. “Ugh! Fuck-”
You instantly wrapped your legs around his head, gripping his hair tightly and riding his face as you moaned his name like a prayer. Jun moaned loudly, his fingers freezing cold inside you as he remembered how much he loved being used by you.
“God, you always ride my face hard when I touch you like this.” He added another finger, spreading them wide inside you, hitting your favourite spot. He blew cold air onto your clit again, watching your body tightly coil with remembered pleasure.
“Stop reminiscing,” You pushed his head away sharply. He laughed softly, his mouth wet with your arousal. “No more remembering how you used to bounce on my face?” He teased, trying to pull your hips back down onto his mouth. You smacked his head lightly, “Asshole.”
He caught your hips sharply, pulling you back. He spread your legs wide, feasting on you like a starving man. His fingers still inside you, curving them perfectly as he ate you loudly, slurping and sucking your clit like it was his last meal.
Your body tightened like a bowstring as he remembered exactly how you liked it. Within minutes, you were crying out, your legs shaking as you came hard against his mouth. “Junhui- God! Aghh Oh my- fuck!”
He kept eating you through your orgasm, his cold fingers never stopping their relentless attack on that sweet spot inside you. He loved how you tasted, how you moaned his name like a dirty prayer. When your legs finally stopped shaking, he pulled away slowly, licking his lips.
He sat up, his face glistening with your juices. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at you with hooded eyes. “You taste even better than I remembered,” he said huskily. He spread his legs slightly, palming his hard, cold erection through his pants.
“My turn, hubby.”
You smirked and slowly removed his jacket and white collared shirt, revealing his perfectly sculpted abs. He lifted his hips so you could pull down his pants and boxers in one smooth motion. His massive, erect dick sprang free, slapping against his stomach with a wet smack.
His hands came up to grip your hair as you looked down at his length. He was already cold and hard, leaking pre-cum. “Take it in your mouth,” he ordered roughly, his Chinese accent thickening with desire. His hand tightened in your hair possessively. “Open Wen Y/N”
You spread your lips slowly, taking the tip of him into your hot mouth. He hissed sharply, his hips bucking slightly. “Damn it,” He muttered softly, watching your wet mouth stretch around him. “You used to deep throat like a pro.” He gripped your hair tighter, guiding you slightly.
His eyes rolled back as you suddenly took him deep into your throat without warning, your nose pressing against his balls. He let out a choked groan — “Fucking hell..” His hands tangled in your hair desperately as you started bobbing up and down rapidly, sucking hard “Shit.. shit- shit, you’re even better now!”
His cold dick throbbed in your mouth as you kept deepthroating him, your tongue pressing against the sensitive vein underneath. He could barely speak, his voice coming out strained “Fuck...fuck..fuck! Goddam- Ughh”
With a loud, muffled groan, he came down your throat, his hips jerking uncontrollably. You swallowed every drop before pulling off with a wet pop. He fell back onto the bed, panting heavily. “Still so noisy” You commented dryly, crawling up his body.
He wrapped his arms around you tightly, nuzzling into your neck and inhaling your scent. “Sure sure..” He murmured against your skin, his voice hoarse. “You’re the loud one. Always screaming my name.” He started kissing and sucking on your neck possessively. “My hubby.. still so good for me.”
He rolled you onto your back, covering your body with his. I can’t even see the ceiling. His cold hands gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head. His dark brown eyes bore into yours intensely. “Turns out, my wife gives even better head now. I wonder how else she’s improved.”
One hand slid under your thigh. “Spread for me, Y/N. Let me check if that tight hole still belongs to me only.” His voice was low and commanding.
He pushed your legs apart roughly, his cold dick already hardening again. I’m fucking a ghost. He’s so cold. He positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the head against your sensitive spot. “You know what I love about this position?” He asked, his voice husky.
“What?” You barely said, “It lets me go deep,” He answered darkly, pushing your thighs back sharply and slamming inside you hard. He hit the bottom instantly, making you cry out loudly. “See?” He pulled back and thrust hard again, making you bounce on the bed. “Noisy.”
He started pounding into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with your loud moans and cries. One hand remained on your wrist above your head holding it back while the other on your thighs “Fuck-” He groaned, “Too loud, my wife”
His thrusts became deeper and harder, hitting that spot inside you perfectly. Your loud moans turned into high-pitched screams as he fucked you brutally. “Shut up...shut up”
He slapped a hand over your mouth as you screamed during another deep thrust. “AHHH-” “Jesus,” He muttered against your neck, “You sound like a fucking porn star.” He bit down on your shoulder to muffle his own groan, still fucking you mercilessly.
Your world turned into a blur of cold hands gripping your body painfully, eyes glinting menacingly above you, and a ghostly cock pounding into you. You could feel every inch of him stretching you open, hitting depths you never knew existed. “Mmph..”
You felt possessed, fucked by a literal ghost who showed no mercy. His cold body slammed against yours relentlessly, making the headboard bang against the wall loudly. Your screams were echoing, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth.
Tears streamed down your face from the intense pleasure-pain as he hit your cervix with every thrust. Your nails scrambled against his back, leaving red marks on his pale skin. You felt like you were being claimed by a supernatural being, completely at his mercy. “Nghh!”
Your tears only seemed to fuel his hunger for you. He watched, mesmerised, as they spilled down your cheeks and dripped onto the pillow. “Adorable,” He groaned, his voice laced with dark desire. “My pretty wife crying while I fuck you stupid.”
Mid-thrust, an abrupt memory flashed through his mind — the candle he had lit earlier, still burning softly nearby. A wicked smirk crossed his ghostly face as an idea struck him. “Hold that thought..” He suddenly pulled out completely, leaving you empty and whimpering. “Don't move.”
He quickly reached the candle, dipping his cold fingers into the melted wax. The room fell silent except for your laboured breathing and soft sniffles. “I forgot you’re a ghost, and how you can’t feel pain.” He chuckled then looming over you with a sinister grin and wax-covered fingers. “Spread wider,” He ordered darkly. “Let's play a little game.”
Without warning, he pressed the warm wax against your sensitive entrance, pushing it inside you slowly. You gasped at the foreign feeling, your hole stretching to accommodate the wax. He added more, filling you up with the warm substance before snapping his fingers. “Cold now.” The wax instantly hardened inside you,
Leaving you with a feeling of extreme fullness and pressure. He pushed your legs back even further, until your knees were practically touching your ears. “Now, let's see how long this pretty little human can hold still while I fuck her with a frozen, wax-filled hole.”
He lined up his cock again, pushing the head against your entrance. He groaned as he slowly slid in, the hardened wax making you even tighter than before. “Goddamn,” He grunted, “You feel insane right now.”
With a sharp thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside you. The sudden intrusion forced a loud, strangled moan from your throat. “Ahh..! F-fuck..!” You bucked your hips instinctively, only for the wax to shift inside you uncomfortably. “N-no...ahh- st-still..”
He wrapped a hand around your throat to hold you down as he started thrusting his hips slowly, each thrust causing the wax to grind against your prostate pleasurably. Your moans turned into broken whimpers as he fucked you with that unrelenting fullness. “Shh, my wife.. just take it”
He picked up the pace, his hips slapping against yours with wet smacks. The wax inside you began to melt slightly from the friction, creating a warm, sticky sensation that had you moaning uncontrollably. “Ahh..ahh...ahhh!”
Your loud, desperate moans sent him over the edge. He slammed into you one last time, hitting your prostate dead on as he came hard inside you. “FUCK!” He groaned loudly, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his hot cum. “HUBBY!” You screamed as you cream his cock as well inside.
He stayed buried inside you, his heavy breathing gradually slowing as he nuzzled against your neck. The melted wax and his release dripped out of you messily, coating your inner thighs. After a moment, he pulled out slowly, watching as more fluid followed. “Mmm”
You looked down at the mess between your legs, then back up at him with confused eyes. “How.. how are you cumming? You're a ghost” He smirked mischievously, “Ghost sex has its perks, wife. My spirit can still produce semen.”
“And trust me, it feels just as good as real cum would.” He chuckled softly, floating down to clean himself up with some tissues he got at the night stand. “Plus, being dead means I can fuck you for hours without getting tired.”
Your eyes widen, completely not understanding what happened just now, “can I get pregnant..? BY A GHOST?!”
He raised an eyebrow at you, then shook his head with a soft laugh. “No, Y/N. You can’t get pregnant from ghost sex.” He explained, “My spirit might produce semen, but it lacks the necessary components to impregnate anyone.”
“Oh ok,” you sighed, relieved. His smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he went back up to top you, hovering between your legs. “So basically, I can fill you up as much as I want, and there’s zero risk of an actual baby.” He leaned down to kiss your neck and the night was long.
The morning light slipped through the old lace curtains, pooling soft gold across the floorboards. The air was warmer than usual — almost gentle, like the house itself didn’t want to disturb you. You stirred under the sheets, your body still aching in ways you couldn’t explain, every muscle sore but tingling with something that felt like longing.
This bed feels more like me, than the other bed. I love to be back.
Jun sat beside the bed, his elbow resting on the headboard, chin on his hand, smiling softly. “You’re awake,” he murmured. His voice was as calm as ever, but there was something different in his gaze — something steady, quiet, almost resigned.
You groaned, trying to sit up. “Remind me to never let a ghost manhandle me again.” He laughed — that deep, melodic laugh that used to echo down the hallways when the house was still alive. “You weren’t complaining last night.”
“Yeah, well,” you muttered, cheeks warming as you tried to swing your legs off the bed, “that was before I realized ghosts apparently have stamina.”
Jun leaned forward, catching your wrist before you could stand. “Careful,” he said softly. “Don’t move too fast. You’re still sore.” You rolled your eyes. “I can handle it.”
“Of course you can,” he teased, standing and offering his hand anyway. “But let me handle you for once.” You took his hand without thinking — it felt solid now, warm even. The thought almost made your chest ache. “Since when did you get so smug?”
He smiled faintly, leading you toward the kitchen. “Since I got my wife back.” You froze mid-step, and for a moment, your breath caught. He said it so casually, like it was the most ordinary truth in the world. But something in his tone — that faint tremor beneath the calm — made your heart twist.
“Jun..” He only smiled again, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Breakfast first. Heavy hearts need coffee.”
He made pancakes. You didn’t even think ghosts could cook, but the smell of butter and sugar filled the air, and when you asked how he did it, Jun just shrugged. “You said you missed the scent of home,” he said, flipping one perfectly golden. “So I borrowed it from your memory.” You laughed. “That’s creepy and romantic. I can’t decide which.” “Can’t it be both?”
The rest of the day passed in a strange sort of domestic bliss. You both cleaned the bedroom — or at least, you did, and Jun hovered around you, pretending to help but mostly teasing you. He brushed wax off your cheek, steadying you every time you leaned too close.
“Do you ever miss it?” you asked suddenly, when you caught him watching the sunlight through the window. He turned to you, smiling faintly. “Miss what?” “Being alive.” For a heartbeat, his smile faltered. Then he said quietly, “Not anymore. Everything I ever wanted.. is standing right here.”
You stared at him — the soft glow in his eyes, the way his voice trembled like he was holding back something heavy. You didn’t press. Instead, you reached out and brushed his hand — and this time, it felt entirely real.
Jun blinked, then smiled again, softer this time. “See? You’re getting stronger.” You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to your forehead — his lips almost warm now. “It means you’ll be okay,” he whispered. “Even when I’m not here to make pancakes for you.”
You looked up sharply. “What are you talking about-” “Nothing,” he interrupted, smiling again — that same too-gentle, too-final smile. “Just saying.. ghosts like me don’t get forever. So promise me, if I ever fade away” He brushed your cheek with his thumb. “…don’t stop living.”
You didn’t know why, but the air grew heavier around you. The sunlight dimmed. You forced a laugh. “You’re being dramatic again.”
Jun chuckled softly, though his eyes were glistening in the light. “Maybe. But if being dramatic lets me stay in your memory, then I’ll take it.”
You stared at him for a long time, the ache in your chest tightening, and for a fleeting moment, you swore you could see through him — just a shimmer, like heat rising from pavement. But you blinked, and he was solid again. Smiling. Alive in his own way.
And so, you smiled back. “You’ll have to work harder than that to get rid of me.” He leaned in and kissed your lips. “I know,” he whispered. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
—
The night came gentle, like the world itself didn’t want to wake you. You sat on the veranda with Jun, a single candle flickering between you — its flame bending and swaying with the wind. The garden was quiet, the air thick with that faint sweetness of rose and memory.
Jun leaned back in his chair, watching you instead of the stars. You didn’t notice at first how still he’d become. “I used to dream of this,” he said softly. “Of what?” “Peace.” He smiled faintly, eyes never leaving your face. “I thought I’d forgotten what it felt like.”
You chuckled, sipping your tea. “You sound like someone who’s about to give a farewell speech.” “Maybe I am.” You frowned. “Jun.”
He turned toward you, eyes reflecting the candlelight, gold and endless and unbearably sad. “You remember everything now, don’t you?” You blinked. “What do you mean?” “Us,” he whispered. “Before this life. Before this house. Before the accident.”
The words hit you like a chill. The images — faint, half-remembered — started to surface. The rain. Screeching tires. The ring glinting against the pavement. Jun’s voice calling your name, desperate, echoing. And then.. nothing.
Your throat tightened. “I- I saw flashes. I thought they were dreams.” He reached out, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. His touch was lighter than before — fading. “They were memories. The last ones we shared before everything ended.”
You shook your head, tears already welling. “Ended? No.. we found each other again, didn’t we? You said you waited for me-” “I did,” Jun said, smiling. “Every life I remembered, I searched for you. Sometimes I found you. Sometimes I didn’t. But this time..” He paused, his voice breaking. “This time, you came back to me.”
“Then why- why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Because I am.” You froze. “No.”
He moved closer, cupping your face, thumbs tracing slow circles over your tears. His hands were almost see-through now — light bleeding through his fingers. “My curse was to remember every life,” he said softly. “To live them all until I learned to let go.”
“Jun, stop-”
“But yours,” he whispered, “was to forget. To live free of the pain. To start again.”
—
The moment the words left his lips, something in your chest cracked open — a white flash of pain, too bright to bear. And then..
White walls. The soft hum of machines. A dull ache at the back of your head. You blinked your eyes open and found yourself lying on a hospital bed. Your throat was dry, your body heavy. The faint rhythm of a heart monitor keeps time with your shallow breathing.
“Mingyu- she’s awake!” You turned your head weakly. Three faces came into focus — Mingyu, Seokmin, and Minghao — all hovering near your bed, eyes wide with relief. Mingyu reached out, holding your hand tightly as if grounding you.
“Hey,” he said softly, voice trembling. “You scared us.” You looked at them, confused. “What.. happened?” Seokmin’s smile faltered. “You got into an accident. You’ve been out for a few days.”
You nodded slowly, your mind foggy. But as you looked at their faces — familiar yet oddly distant — you felt something off. Something hollow. “Was anyone else with me?” you asked after a moment.
They froze. Minghao looked down at the floor, his jaw tight. “No,” he said finally. “You were alone when they found you.” You frowned, trying to recall anything — a road, a sound, a name. But your head throbbed the harder you tried. There was nothing. Just blank space.
Days passed, and you went home, that doesn’t even feel like home. You walked through your apartment, touching the furniture, tracing the edges of picture frames that held no faces. You caught your reflection in the mirror and felt the strangest ache, like someone else should’ve been there beside you. Someone who wasn’t.
Late one night, unable to sleep, you sat on your bed and whispered into the dark — not knowing why, or to whom. “Maybe it’s not about moving on,” you murmured, clutching your chest where that invisible ache lived, “but trying to remember the memories I’ve already lost.”
A tear slipped down your cheek before you even realised you were crying. You didn’t know what you were grieving — only that your heart was mourning something you couldn’t recall.
—
You sobbed, shaking your head violently. “Then why- why bring me back here? Why make me remember?” “Because you deserved to know you were loved,” Jun said, voice trembling. “Even after death. Even after forgetting. You were my heart in every lifetime, and I needed you to know that before I go.”
The candle flame flickered. His form wavered, the edges of him breaking apart like smoke. “No,” you cried, clutching his shirt — your hands passing through him. “Please, stay. I’ll remember you this time. I swear, Jun, I won’t forget”
He smiled faintly, leaning forward until his forehead touched yours. “You will. You have to. That’s how you live.” He said. You sobbed. “Then what now? What happens to us? To you” “You live,” he said gently. “You finish your book. You keep the house. You keep going.”
“As for me.. I’ll keep waiting. Like I always do.” You shook your head violently. “No. No, you can’t. You deserve to move on.” “How can I?” Jun whispered. “My heaven was you. This is my fate.. I finally have the reason to cross the afterlife for this life, Y/N.” You felt the warmth of his breath one last time as he whispered,
“Find me again, in another life, my bride” The candle went out.
Silence filled the house — that heavy, sacred kind of silence only grief can make.
You sat there long after, whispering his name into the darkness, your tears falling onto the wooden floor. When the morning light finally touched the veranda, there was no trace of him — just the faint scent of cedar and rose and the ghost of a handprint on your cheek.
And for a moment, as you looked toward the mirror inside the house, you swore you saw him smiling.
Then he was gone.
And on the bed beside you, the veil stirred gently — as if brushed by unseen hands. unheard voice.
𝐀/𝐍 ➙ and that’s a wrap!! thank you so much for reading — I hope you liked it!! we’ve still got a few more left on our 2025 kinktober prompt list, next up is jeonghan, then wonwoo. see you all soon! stay safe, healthy, and a little unhinged, loves mwaa
Synopsis 🩸 Your boss is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen in your life, it's like he glows from within and brightens your day. But one evening after work you find him doing something that's about to change your life forever. That is, if he lets it.
Plot warnings 🩸everyone works in publishing, Vernon almost joins a cult (he's barely in it, but when he is, he's a menace), a brief reference to weed (Vernon), mentions of alcohol, Wonwoo being the annoying bestie is just canon in all my fics at this point, lots of references to blood (drinking it, blood play), threat (she's scared in the moment but gets over it pretty quickly), lots of literary references (Junhui, it turns out, has basically had everything to do with almost every famous literary work), I've tried to make his life historically accurate but he's almost 2000 years old so he's seen a lot, they're in love but he's refusing to accept that, heavy angst for a little while because Jun is an idiot, arguing/ bickering, Wonwoo is unhelpful (again, it's canon in every fic I write and he's in it), everything works out for them (without giving anything away), mentions of Seungkwan, Jeonghan, Joshua and Soonyoung being vampires too but we only meet Seungkwan, a car accident (mild injuries),
Smut warnings 🩸making out, fang play? (she's into the idea of him biting her), biting (with fangs), slight blood play (he tastes her), body worship, a lot of skinship? they just want to feel each other, oral f.recieving, vaginal fingering, nipple play, it's all very romantic but he does call her a pervert,
Word count 🩸 27.7k
a/n 🩸 this has been a labour of love and honestly could've been about 60k words, vampire Junhui is literally the perfect man (vampire) and I hope you like him!!
You can describe a lot of things in this world as beautiful. The view of the sun rising across the ocean, particularly old buildings which leave your mind reeling at how anyone could build something so grand hundreds of years ago, even the sight of a star filled night. But the one thing that you think might be the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever had the privilege of seeing?
That’s simple.
Wen Junhui.
You’re not even exaggerating, there’s something about him that means the only word you can truly describe him as is beautiful.
Even now as you sit in a staff meeting and he’s trying to hammer home to you all that you need to find new writers who bring something fresh and not the same old same old, he seems to glow in his beauty. You’re certain it can’t just be you that realises it, every other editor and member of staff must be able to see it too. Although maybe they just manage to tune it out, you have always been attracted to the shiny things in life and the way he seems to almost shimmer as he floats through the room means you can’t take your eyes off him for a single second.
“You’re drooling again.”
“Shut up Wonwoo.” You whisper through gritted teeth, although make a conscious effort to divert your attention away from the beauty that stands before you.
“You know you should….”
But Wonwoo doesn’t get to finish his sentence, Junhui’s attention turns to you both and even Wonwoo, who is generally unaffected by even the most disastrous of circumstances, sits up straight like a child who's just been caught doing something they absolutely shouldn’t be doing.
“Was that something you wanted to share Wonwoo?”
God, even the way he talks is like something from the past, it holds that same reverence of people centuries ago who used to speak properly and with authority, rather than the abbreviations and slang that everyone uses today. You’d once written lol (by accident) in an email to him and you’re certain you saw him getting a dictionary off his bookshelf to see what this strange word you’d emailed him meant. It’s just every single facet of him demands respect, be it his beauty or the way he holds himself, he’s a monolith in a world of pebbles and you can’t help being drawn in by him.
“Oh! Er…” Wonwoo frantically looks around the room hoping something might jump out at him, because he really can’t tell his boss that he was about to say ‘You know you should just fuck him in his office’, “_____! She has a couple of manuscripts by new authors that she hasn’t shut up about for weeks!”
Fuck you Jeon Wonwoo.
But then Junhui turns his attention to you and you’re presented with a hopeful smile that in all seriousness, you would enter a battle for.
“Is that true?”
You’re certain his skin is actually shimmering, not in that fresh glow you get when you’ve been in the sun or the mirror like hue you get after a particularly amazing facial, but it just shimmers like he’s glowing from within. You’re not even sure skincare could achieve it, it’s surely…..
“_____?”
Shit. The whole publishing department is waiting on your answer and you’re sitting deciding whether it’s moisturiser or genetics that causes your boss to be fucking ethereal.
“Sorry!” You blush, picking at the skin near your thumb nail, “I do have a couple that I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but I wasn’t sure they’d be what you were looking for.”
“To be honest,” damn his smile for making it so hard to concentrate on a word he’s saying, “I don’t know what I’m looking for. We need something fresh yet…timeless, I suppose. We need something to shake up the industry, like…..”
“Like 1984 but perhaps a little less true to life?”
You’ve done it. Your life has peaked. You have made Junhui laugh, you’ve seen the wide smile that forms on that stoic face and now you’ll never get over it. And it isn’t that he’s unpleasant, he smiles to you all and wishes you a good morning, but you’ve never seen him laugh. And now you have and you think you want to have the privilege of hearing it every day for eternity.
“That’s exactly it _____, yes. If you have time this week, drop by my office and we’ll check out those manuscripts.”
Breathe _____. He’s asked you to stop by his office for work. The way your heart just leaped, you’d think he’d just gotten down on one knee and asked you to be his wife.
“O-okay,” you nod, fumbling with your notebook and pen, whilst you desperately try to play it cool.
“Very smooth.” Wonwoo murmurs as he watches Junhui start talking about publishing deadlines.
“Fuck. Off.” You poke him with your pen, enjoying the way he tries to pretend it didn’t affect him.
The rest of Thursday, after the meeting, had been derailed by Vernon. One of the writers you look after as his editor and a man so annoying that in a few years, it wouldn’t surprise you if you were doing jail time for murdering him.
He’d called you in a panic, saying his creative spark had fizzled out and he was going to join a new “collective” of artists in Nepal, where he’d smoke weed and take part in group activities that would allow his creative juices to flow freely again. So, when you’d arrived at his house by the beach and discovered exactly what these “activities” included, you informed Vernon what he was actually planning on joining was a cult.
You then had to spend forty minutes with a frantic Vernon looking over your shoulder, coming down from his last high with a whole cake on a plate because of his munchies, as you checked every email from this “collective” and rang his bank to make sure they hadn’t already taken any payments. When the leader of the cult called him, not that you realised they used phones, you always thought cult leaders would have some sort of edgy system of communication, Vernon threw the phone to you in a blind panic.
Two hours. Two whole hours of your day wasted by talking to a man named Supreme Leader John the Second (presumably Supreme Leader John the First was the first cult leader) who was adamant that now Vernon was in the collective, he couldn’t leave.
It was only when you listed just how high maintenance Vernon was (he will only eat fish on Wednesdays or every third Saturday of the month, he likes to use a mixture of mouth washes and has specific measurements for said mixing and he will only eat cookies with even numbers of chocolate chips in them because odd numbers “encourage the world’s evils”) that Super Leader John decided that Vernon probably wasn’t suited to their collective and they’d actually quite prefer it if he never contacted them again.
So, Thursday had been a write off. And for most of Friday, Junhui had been in meetings with various higher ups that didn’t concern editors like yourself. But now most of the office had gone home and you were left with two manuscripts that had landed on your desk months ago, and that you’d fallen in love with as soon as you read them. They’re by unknown authors and aren’t the usual sort of thing that this company is used to publishing. All you can do is hope that Junhui likes them, if not, you’ve got yourself all worked up over the simple act of visiting his office, for nothing.
His office sits at the end of the large open plan work area, you can’t see in it as there’s a small corridor that leads into the actual office itself, but once you’re in there it’s like a dream. You’ve only been in a couple of times but each time you’ve been awestruck by the floor to ceiling bookshelves, full of books that you can tell he’s read from how well thumbed they are, and that don’t even look out of place in such a modern building. He even had special protective films installed on the windows so the sunlight coming through the glass building wouldn't harm any of his tomes, he is literally the man of your bookish dreams.
You take a deep breath, the excitement of getting to spend one on one time with Junhui mixing with the nerves of spending one on one time with him, and knock on the door.
You don’t get an answer, maybe he’s out? Maybe he’s gone home already? It is Friday after all and a man like him must have a wealth of options of things to occupy his time with.
You risk one more knock and if you get no answer, you’ll leave the manuscripts on his desk with a little note saying that you hope he likes them.
The second knock brings no response and so you slowly enter his office, the manuscripts bearing the brunt of your nerves as the paper slightly crumples from how hard you’re gripping them.
What you find though, makes your blood run cold.
“OH!” Junhui looks at you in horror, quickly hiding the cut crystal glass he’d been drinking from and trying to wipe his mouth, “I didn’t hear you knock _____! Sorry!”
You don’t reply. You can’t reply. You just stare at the man in the fine cut three piece suit, who would look as beautiful as ever if not for the red smears around his lips, that he’s desperately trying to wipe away with a handkerchief, with wide eyes.
Your heart is pounding in your ears, you’ve never felt fear like it. Every fibre of your being is telling you to flee, to get away from him and whatever he was just doing and yet you can’t.
It’s like you’re frozen to the spot, nothing but fear pumping through you but your legs are cemented to the spot halfway between his desk and your way out of this nightmare.
“W-was,” you swallow, trying to collect your thoughts, “was t-that…..in that glass…..was it?”
You don’t finish your sentence, the reality of what it was he was drinking makes you feel like you want to vomit and if what he was drinking is what you think it is, you need to get as far away from this freak as quick as you can.
You drop the manuscripts and run, ignoring Junhui shouting after you to come back and let him explain. Explain what exactly? Why he was sitting at his desk, quite happily sipping on a glass of fucking blood like it was a fine wine to be savoured? For the first couple of seconds, you wondered if it was tomato juice or a Bloody Mary but Bloody Marys don’t leave a stain on your skin like that. Because when Junhui tried to wipe away the residue on his mouth, it smeared and stained. It smeared and stained exactly like blood.
You know you’re going to have to answer the door. You’ve seen vampire movies, nobody just sees a vampire drinking blood and goes happily about their life afterwards. And from the way Junhui has been knocking at your apartment door for the past ten minutes, your life isn’t going on happily at all.
On your drive home, which you just hope you didn’t hit any old ladies or drive through any red lights whilst you weren’t paying any attention, you did toy with the idea that he’s just a weirdo. He’s just a weirdo that drinks blood and that might’ve been something you could deal with. But then you thought about it, really thought about it. The shimmer to his skin, the way he talks like he’s from another time, literally everything about him completely juxtaposes everything that the modern man is. And you know it’s far reaching and anyone would call you insane if you tried to tell them, but you just know it, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Wen Junhui is a vampire.
He’s been gently knocking on your door, desperately pleading with you to let him explain but you’re not an idiot. You know once you open that door, you’re dead. You’ve always had good veins, every nurse that’s ever taken a blood sample has commented how wonderful your veins are and so he won’t waste any time in feasting on you. You’re certain of it.
You did try to google what wards off a vampire, but the first one was sunlight and given he’s chosen to work in a glass building, even if his office does have protection for his books, sunlight doesn’t seem to be a problem. And what is more, you’re not religious so why the fuck would you just have a crucifix around the apartment?
Yes. You have garlic but it’s surely not enough to ward off a whole vampire, there’s probably some equation whereby each foot in height equals ten bulbs of garlic and you’ve only got two bulbs, it’s not going to be enough. And sadly for you, you’re clean out of wooden stakes. So do you just resign yourself to being a sacrificial lamb to the hot vampire who you work for? Perhaps you could fight him off? You did self defence classes for like three weeks and you once made Wonwoo’s nose bleed when you accidentally punched him fighting off a bee, you have some fighting skills.
“LET ME IN OR I WILL BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN.” Junhui gets tired of trying to be nice and shouts through the door instead.
Shit. He probably could too, why he hasn’t already is a mystery to you.
You gather your things, hoping they’ll at least ward him off for a few seconds and walk slowly to the door, your hands shaking and wondering how long it’ll take someone to find you. That’s if he even leaves any of you, maybe you’ll be so delicious that he’ll just eat every last bit of you. Do vampires even eat people? Or are they zombies? He’s surely not a zombie, not with that haircut.
“Stand back!” You’d have been proud of yourself for that if your voice hadn’t broken a little.
He doesn’t say anything but then what are you expecting him to even say? He’s going to kill you either way, all you’ve done by asking him to stand back is give him a little run up to the killing. Fucking idiot.
You open the door and hold your hands in the air, hoping your choice of repellents work at least a little.
But Junhui just stands there, eyes flitting between your hands and the traces of a smirk on his lips.
“What are you holding?”
“DON’T COME NEAR ME! I MEAN IT!!!!!” You waggle your hands at him frantically.
“_____,” he bites his lips to hide his smile, “the whole crucifix and garlic thing is bullshit.”
“SO, YOU ARE A VAMPIRE?!” You jump back, your arms still outstretched. Part of you was hoping he was going to say you’ve got an overactive imagination and he’s on some sort of detox that rich people do.
“Can…” he looks around the empty hallway, “can we talk about this inside?”
Your arms fall to your sides, you didn’t prepare for this, you thought he’d pounce but he’s treating this more like a business meeting.
What’s the point in saying no? He’s a vampire, he won’t take no for an answer anyway, you’re lying to yourself if you think you have a single thread of authority in anything going on here.
“Ok, but only if you stay right by the door. I want a good six foot buffer zone,” you wave your arms around yourself, showing him exactly where he can’t go, “do not come in this buffer area.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says smoothly and walks into your apartment.
Damn for a man who drinks blood, he really does smell fantastic, it’s like cedar with a mix of rosemary. It’s otherworldly, like nothing you’ve ever smelt before. But now isn’t the time to falter, you have an actual vampire in your apartment, it really shouldn’t matter that he smells nice.
“What do you want?”
“What did you think those were going to do?” he gestures to what you’re holding.
“Well. Garlic,” you gesture to him like it’s a given that garlic would help you ward him off, “and,” you glance down at the book you’re holding, “I’m not religious so don’t have a crucifix or bible or anything, this is the closest I had.”
“You think Mr Tumnus is going to help you fight off a vampire?” he smirks.
“The Chronicles of Narnia are based on the Bible,” you falter a little when you realise how fucking ridiculous that sounds, “it might’ve helped.”
He has just admitted that he is a vampire though, so you haven’t really got time to worry about your choice in defensive books.
“If you’re going to kill me, I won’t make it easy. I've got lots of salt.”
“You’re going to make sure you’re perfectly seasoned?” He raises an intrigued brow at you.
Fuck. So, the whole salt thing is a myth then.
“Salt doesn’t work either?”
He shakes his head, fighting off a smile.
“Oh, well then I give in,” you throw yourself on the sofa, “if it helps, my emergency contact is down as Wonwoo because he’s my oldest friend in the city, but don’t call him tonight. He has puzzle club with the old men in the neighbourhood and he hates being disturbed. You think you’re scary, you haven’t been on the receiving end of one of his lectures.”
Why can’t you just shut your damn mouth? Always have to drone on and on when you’re in a panic, like bamboozling whoever is scaring you would stop them from hurting you.
“I don’t want to kill you ______,”
“Oh please, don’t use the whole I don’t want to do this, I need to do this. I’ve read Dracula.”
“No,” he sits on your coffee table, chuckling at the ancient copy of ‘The Chronicles of Narnia’ that you thought would help and very much ignoring your six foot buffer zone, “I don’t need to kill you either. I just need to know you won’t tell anyone.”
“Like anyone would believe me if I told them my boss was a vampire.”
“You seem quite calm considering you’ve just found out your boss is a vampire.” He narrows his eyes at you.
You’re not calm. You’ve no idea what you are. All you know is that you’re having to come to terms with the fact that not only do vampires appear to exist. But the boss you’ve been crushing on for god knows how long, is one.
“There’s not much I can do. You’ll either kill me or I’ll have to keep it secret. I’m not being sectioned because you’re a vampire.” You say indignantly, desperately trying to get some kind of upper hand here.
“I don’t want to kill you _____. I’ve said that. But I need to know you’ll keep this secret. If not, I have to move on and you’ll all lose your jobs.”
Oh great. So now the job of every person who works for one of the biggest publishers in the country, relies on your ability to keep a secret. Something which famously, you’re terrible at. You’ve told your mom every secret you’ve ever been told and Wonwoo seems to have some sort of sixth sense for when you’re hiding something. He’ll sniff it out before you even enter the office.
“I won’t tell anyone,” you sigh, leaning back into the sofa, “I can’t be responsible for everyone losing their jobs. But…..can I have those manuscripts back?”
“Why?” he smirks.
Shit. He’s already them. Or one of them at least.
“I didn’t know…..I wouldn’t have…..oh god,” you groan, ignoring the little laugh that comes from Junhui.
“You wouldn’t have brought a manuscript about a vampire to your boss that happens to be a vampire?”
“How did you read it already? It’s been like an hour?”
“I can read pretty quickly.” He shrugs like it’s nothing.
You should probably ask him to leave but you’re nothing if not nosey and if you’re never going to talk about this with him again, you want to ask him what life as a vampire is really like.
“Go on.” He smiles.
Can he? Oh fuck you hope he can’t read minds. He’s being very calm for someone that will have been subjected to some pretty explicit daydreams you’ve managed to conjure up, if he can read minds.
“Can you?” you ask quietly, “read minds?”
“No,” he snorts, “you just look like you have questions and to be honest, I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”
“Thank god for that!” your eyes widen, “I mean not that I’ve been thinking of anything weird. You know, just worried about stranger danger I guess,” you trail off.
“Could I?” He gestures to the spot on the sofa next to you.
“Oh! Sure! Do you want a drink? Although….” What the hell do vampires drink? Thinking about it now, you’re not sure you ever have seen him drink, other than the blood he was drinking earlier.
“Any b negative?” you freeze on your way to the kitchen, “I was joking _____. I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”
“Mint tea?”
“Perfect.”
He stands up to take his jacket off and you desperately try not to think too much into the fact that you’re spending time in your apartment, with your hot boss who you’ve been pining after for ages. The fact he’s a vampire should make you want to run and bang on your neighbour’s door for help, but you feel oddly at ease with him. He doesn’t seem to mean any harm to you and the fact that if you told someone, he said his reaction would be to leave, rather than hurt you, shows he truly has no intentions of hurting you.
“Here you go,” you mumble as you hand him the steaming mug of tea and sit down on the sofa next to him.
“Thank you. You’ve quite the collection of books.” He smiles and nods over to your messy bookshelves which have far too many books than the old shelves should be holding.
“Hm,” you hum, swallowing your sip of tea, “I’m running out of space for them. I know everything is going digital and people say print is dying, but I don’t know. I just like having the physical copy, I like seeing what I’ve read and the characters I’ve known.”
You turn back to him, shocked to find a fond smile on his lips.
“What?”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself. That’s what I’m always trying to hammer home to the execs, people want the physical copies of books. I understand the ease of digital things, but I still think there’s hope for published books. It isn’t the write off they think it is.”
“Can I….Do you mind if I……”
“Ask me whatever you want ______.”
Even the way he says your name makes your body tingle and heart leap. You shouldn’t still be having this reaction to him now you know he’s basically a monster.
“How old are you?”
“1941 years old.”
“That would mean you were born in….” you try to work it out, “85? Like the year 85?”
“If you’re using the current way of counting, yes. Although I was born hundreds of years before that system came into practice, before that we just used the eras of the current rulers and things.”
“So,” You cross your legs and get comfy on the sofa facing him, not realising just how softly he’s looking at you, “where were you born? Like does that country still exist?”
“It’s still China.” He nods, “But it’s very different from when I was born there. If you’d have told four year old Junhui he’d be moving around the earth in a metal box he’d have never believed you. Or known what metal was.”
You can’t imagine what that must be like. To have seen history with your own eyes.
“Did you always live in China? Or did you just recently move?”
“Recently to you and recently to me are two very different things ______.”
“Right,” you nod, a little embarrassed.
“I’ve lived all over the world,” you look up at him through your lashes, “I’ve seen the fall of Rome, I saw people say ‘Oh Shakespeare? He’s just a phase, he’ll be forgotten in a few years’ and I’ve seen some of the worst things mankind has ever done. You tend to have to move around every few decades or so, people grow old and when you don’t,” he smiles, though you note it doesn’t seem quite as happy as he wants it to, “you need to move on, so you’re not caught out.”
“That must be lonely.”
You sip your tea and wait for an answer, but when you look at him, he’s just staring at you with an emotion you can’t quite make out.
“No-one, not that many people have ever found out about me, but no-one has ever said anything like that. Or even thought about how it must feel to live like I do. It’s not a bad thing!” He rushes to say when he sees you looking a little worried you’d said the wrong thing.
You just nod and go back to your tea.
“Do you like the Chronicles of Narnia?” He averts his eyes to your well-read copy on the coffee table.
“It was my favourite books growing up. I think I've read them all a hundred times.”
“You know,” he sips his tea like he’s saying something totally normal, “it was me that came up with the name for Aslan.”
“What?! You’re just making that up!”
“I’m not!” he laughs, putting his tea down and picking up your book, “I was studying at Oxford University, I met Clive,” you scoff at him casually calling the author of your favourite childhood book Clive, like he’s friends with him, “at a local pub by chance. I told him I was a literary scholar, and he told me about the book he was writing and how the main hero was a lion and what he represented. But he was struggling with a name, so I suggested Aslan. I’d recently been in Turkey and Aslan is Turkish for Lion. Anyway, Clive loved it and so, Aslan was born.”
You blink at him. For someone that always has so much to say, you’re utterly speechless.
“What was he going to be called before that?”
“Mr Lion.”
You throw your head back in laughter much to the joy of the vampire sat beside you.
“H-he,” you hiccup out another laugh, “he was going to call him Mr Lion?”
“Well he did have form for it. Those poor beavers never got names did they? Just Mr and Mrs Beaver.”
You freeze. He’s actually telling the truth. You thought with a response like Mr Lion, he was just joking to calm your nerves.
“You’re being serious?”
“Yes! I named Aslan!”
“That’s fucking wild.” You shake your head.
“I have a first edition, if you wanted to see it?”
“Really? I’d love that! I love old books, I’ve never dreamt of owning any, or even seeing any, but I love the history of them. How they’ve been passed down and where they’ve been to get where they are now.”
If you could read Junhui’s mind you’d know that for the first time in a very long time, possibly ever, he feels completely captivated by you. He’s had romances through his life and people he thought he loved, but he’d never told anyone else about his “condition”, and thankfully, he’d never been found out, except for a few close shaves.
Suddenly though, he’s in a situation where someone knows his secret and that someone just happens to be one of the most beautiful and endearing women he’s ever met in his long life on this earth. It’s selfish to indulge you, and he tells himself he’s only offering to show you because you seem so interested in it, but a part of him, quite a big part is selfishly doing this because he can’t help wanting to spend more time with you.
“I’ve collected quite a few interesting pieces over the years. I could pick you up tomorrow? That’s if you don’t mind coming to my place?”
“Oh.” You sit up, a little shocked. “I-I’d really like that. You don’t mind showing them to me?”
“_____, in this life I don’t get to show many people, or anyone, this part of my life. People would ask way too many questions about where I found these things. So it’d be nice to share them with someone, particularly someone who seems to hold the same reverence for these things as me.”
“Then, yes. I’d love to come to your place.”
“Perfect,” he finishes his tea and even heads to the kitchen to clean his mug, “I’ll pick you up at 10? Or is that too early?”
“No, that’s fine!” You say excitedly, showing him to your door.
“Great,” he pauses like he was going to hug you, but instead sends you a small smile and sort or taps your arm before he heads through your front door, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Bye.” You grin and wave him off.
As the door closes, your back hits it and you can’t help the huge grin on your face. You’re spending your Saturday with your hot boss, at his apartment no less. Fuck, finding out he’s an ancient vampire might’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
You’d slept pretty well for someone who’d just found out that her boss is a blood drinking vampire, but you put that down to the fact that in the excitement of the prospect of spending time with him, you’d somehow completely blocked out that he is, in fact, a vampire. And that just yesterday you walked into his office to find him casually drinking a glass full of blood.
But now you’re waiting for him to pick you up, having been ready to go for the past hour because your nerves were kicking your ass, and you can’t help but think how incredibly stupid you’ve been to get yourself into this situation. Sure, he didn’t seem like he meant you any harm. And surely if he was going to kill you, he’d have done it last night, it makes no sense to keep you alive and give you the opportunity to tell someone what you’d found out. But that doesn’t mean that you haven’t been frantically pacing your apartment since seven this morning and wondering whether this was all some kind of trap.
This could all be a ruse to lure you to his place and keep you there. Perhaps that what vampires do, they don’t kill people straight away, they do it slowly. He might be intending to just keep you locked away somewhere in his home and feast on your blood whenever the mood takes him. And yet. You still felt oddly safe being near him last night, he didn’t speak to you with any threat, he didn’t seem to want to threaten you at all. And, if it had been a date or something, you’d have been pretty pleased with how easily you both got on, the chat flowed freely and he’d even made you laugh. Which is better than the last three first dates you’ve been on.
You check your watch, it’s only been a minute since you’d last checked it but other than picking the skin near your thumb nail, a habit your mom said would get you into trouble one day, you haven’t got much else to do. Five minutes. Just another five minutes and he’ll be knocking on your door, and you’ll be going to an actual vampire’s house. That is, if he’s on time. But you’re certain vampires generally are on time, they just have that vibe around them that they’d probably be punctual. Not that you’ve met many vampires. Although you have now met one, which considerably more than most people.
A gentle knock on the door breaks you out of your thoughts and you take a deep breath before you stand up. You’re excited, you can’t deny that, but it’s like the fear you feel before a first date has quadrupled because you have absolutely no idea what to expect from this. And it isn’t even that you can call it a date, he’s just asked you if you want to see his book collection because he never gets to share it with anyone. It’s more just your boss showing you something he knows you’ll like, rather than a first date with the potential for it to lead anywhere.
“Hi,” he says softly when you open the door.
“Hello”
You’re not sure why, but you were expecting him to be wearing a suit. He just always is in a suit. You certainly weren’t expecting the 1941 year old vampire to be sweats but you can’t say you’re mad about it. He looks warm. Like he’d give really great hugs and keep you safe. Shit you need to stop this, he is literally a vampire.
“Ready to go?”
“Sure,” you close your door and walk along the corridor with him towards the elevator.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did,” you ponder, “a lot better than you’d think I would after yesterday.”
“Panic only set in this morning?” he smiles. How the hell can he read you so well? It’s not like you’ve spent a huge amount of time with him and yet this is the second time that it feels like he knows what you’re thinking.
“Sort of,” you admit, “you don’t scare me, not really. I think my imagination is scaring me a lot more than you.”
“I swear to you, I don’t mean you any harm. And,” he presses the button to the elevator, “you can ask me whatever you want to, I don’t mind. I know it’s a lot to take in.”
You just smile softly and nod, both of you entering the elevator and heading down to his car. You have questions. You have a lot of questions, but you’re probably better off waiting until you’re in private. The last thing you need is for any nosey neighbours to hear you ask where he gets his blood from and if he actually feeds off real people.
When Junhui parks in the underground parking lot of a large, luxurious apartment complex, you can’t help but feel a little stupid. You heard vampire and just presumed an old, pretty scary, mansion in the woods. Not modern luxurious apartments in the most affluent part of the city. This goes to show that all your over thinking is pointless, you’ve no real idea of what to expect from all of this other than your boss has shown you nothing but kindness since you found out this secret and you’ve spent the whole morning making assumptions about how he lives.
Before you can even open the door, Junhui has rushed around from the driver’s side of the car and opened it for you.
“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.”
“My mother taught me manners and I’ve never forgotten them.”
“Your mother taught you to open a car door for people?” You challenge, hoping he sees you’re joking.
“Well,” he grins, ushering you towards a private elevator for the penthouse complex, “no, she taught me to always let ladies walk through doors first. But I’ve adapted with the times.”
“Is your mother still alive? Is she…..like you?”
He pauses as he presses the button to close the door to the elevator and you worry that you’ve been too forward. Of course he doesn’t want to tell you everything about his life, he was probably just saying you could ask anything to make you less panicked.
“She died a long long time ago now. She wasn’t like me, she never knew I became like this.”
“I’m sorry,” you play with your sleeves, “I shouldn’t have asked something so personal.”
You try to avert your eyes, taking a particular interest in the ceiling off the elevator but he interrupts your feeble attempts to ignore the awkwardness.
“I said you could ask me anything you wanted. And I rarely get a chance to even acknowledge what I am, let alone speak about it. I have to lie and say my parents are back home, or they died, or whatever my current story is for the last few decades I’m in any one place.”
“That must be tough, living so many different lives.” You nod. You struggle with dealing with one life sometimes, let alone multiple.
“It is,” the elevator bongs and he ushers you into a large entryway, “but it’s amazing in parts. I’ve seen and done things that most people with even the wildest imagination couldn’t dream up.”
“Like naming legendary lions?” You smile at him, handing him your coat and him hanging it up with his.
“Exactly.” He says proudly.
It’s only when you wait for him to put a door code in that you realise just how big this place is, just the entry way is bigger than most apartments and it’s decorated beautifully. There are a couple of modern works of art on the walls and on either side of the door are large ornate vases that are about half your height. The only other thing is an old school coat stand and shoes rack, no doubt something he bought on his travels. If you asked him about them he’d probably say something ridiculous like they belonged to an old european monarch or something. So instead you just keep your mouth shut and will yourself not to fall for the seemingly perfect vampire who’s invited you over to look at his book collection.
“Shoes.” He looks down at your feet like your mother would if you forgot to take your shoes off in your grandma’s house.
“Oh!” You quickly launch your sneakers off your feet, “Sorry! Do you have those like foot cover things?”
“This is my home _____, not a museum. I just don't like shoes in the house. You don't need foot protectors and you don’t need a full hazmat suit either.” he smirks.
“I was just checking,” you grumble, taking an active interest in the vase near the door rather than his smug face.
He opens the door and gestures for you to go through first, his mom’s manners still at the forefront, and you slowly walk into the apartment. It’s huge, open plan and designed like something out of an architecture magazine. The walls are simple, white and clean and numerous works of art and prints line the walls. A glass staircase leads up to the second floor and you’re certain it continues up to another level after that. You’re not surprised it’s grand, he’s been alive thousands of years, he must have amassed a huge amount of wealth with that. But on the whole it just feels……..
“You don’t like it?” He must’ve noticed your slight disappointment.
“It’s just very……normal? I-I mean not normal,” you panic, “I just mean, it looks how I thought it would before I knew what you were. Not that I think you’re any different now, I’m not prejudiced ....”
“______. Although I think this little ramble is very cute,” fuck your cheeks must be bright pink at that, “I understand what you mean. You were expecting something out of a horror movie? Or some dark dungeon where the sunlight couldn’t get me?”
“I guess,” you shrug, “is that whole no sunlight thing not true then?”
“None of those old myths are true. Apart from the stake through the heart, that would kill anyone. It’s pointless anyway, I can move quicker than most people can think. It’d take a miracle to actually be in the position to run a stake through a vampire's heart.”
“How quick?” You narrow your eyes at him but before you can even finish your sentence he’s gone, “WHAT THE FUCK?!”
You spin around trying to find him, just to hear a cough coming from above you. You look up to find Junhui leaning against a grand piano positioned in front of the large windows on the floor above you, looking very pleased with himself.
“H-how? What? I didn’t even see you move!!”
In the blink of an eye he’s back beside you and again, you’d hardly seen it. It was like when you walk into a room and a spider or mouse quickly darts into a safe place. You know you’ve seen something but you can’t be sure.
“So you can see why the whole stake through the heart is tricky.”
“Damn, there’s not much point in me taking my stake out of my bag then.” you sigh dramatically.
“I don’t think you’d ever kill me.” He says happily, moving over to the kitchen.
“Why?” You ask, following him and trying not to get distracted by the fact he seems to have every kitchen appliance of your dreams.
“You just said you weren’t prejudiced. Like insulting a vampire for their stereotypes was the same as insulting any human for the stereotypes they may have about where they’re from or what they do. Nobody that kind would kill anyone.”
“Thank you?”
“You’re welcome,” he chuckles, “do you want a drink?”
“It depends what it is.”
Yes, you’re not prejudiced. But you’re entirely sure you could stomach seeing him drink blood without throwing up all over his kitchen.
“Take your pick.” He says as he throws open the door to a fridge the size of your whole bedroom. Ok, maybe not that big but it is the biggest fridge you’ve ever seen in your life.
“Why do you have all this if you can’t have it?” You ask as you try to decide what the hell you want to drink. Which isn’t easy when he seems to be stocking more options than your local convenience store.
“Who says I can’t have any of it?”
“I saw you drinking blood Junhui…” Your eyes widen, “I mean Mr……”
“Junhui is fine.” He smiles fondly at you. “And you also saw me drinking mint tea.”
“So you can eat and drink like a human? But you still need blood?” You settle on an orange juice and close the fridge door, trying not to look at how good he looks leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms folded.
“Exactly,” he nods, “I can eat and drink whatever I want, but I need a little blood each day.”
“Do you go to the toilet then?”
Fuck. You didn’t mean to actually ask that. How fucking embarrasing.
“Most people would be more interested in the blood,” he beams at you once he’s stopped laughing, “but yes, I go to the toilet.”
“Good,” you nod, taking a sip of your orange juice and wishing your brain would develop at least some kind of filter, “and the blood? You don’t……I mean it’s none of my business if you do……but do you? Feed off people?”
“No,” he says kindly, “There are only a handful of us left in the world. Luckily my friend Seungkwan works for one of the top hospitals in the country. We move together generally although we don't see each other much. He supplies us both with blood from the hospitals he works in. In the early days,” he sighs, gesturing for you to sit on one of the stools near him, “when I’d first been changed, I did feed on humans. I couldn’t help myself, I resented what I’d been turned into. I hated humans because I still longed to be one. But, after those first few years, I realised I couldn’t change what had happened to me. And a whole generation had passed, it wasn’t the fault of the humans any more than it was mine. And so I found new methods, now it’s simple to avoid feeding on humans.”
“How did you become like this?” Now you’ve started, you want to know as much as possible about him.
“When I was growing up, we didn’t really have legends of vampires. There were stories of the undead living off humans to survive but nothing of actual vampires. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was coming back from a night of drinking with my friends and before I knew what had happened, I was attacked. I think they meant to kill me, to feed off me completely, but something spooked them and they fled. I was unconscious for days because of the amount of blood they’d taken but there was enough of their DNA in me that I was fine. Better than fine, I felt unstoppable. But I hated what I’d become, I hated that they took my life from me.”
“How did you know you’d become a vampire though? If you’d never heard of them? You could’ve just gotten better?”
“Seungkwan found me. If I’m honest I think it was him who stopped me being killed but he’d never admit that. He’s always hated vampires who use their power to cause fear or hurt people. He’d been hunting down the last truly evil vampire, the one who turned me, for years. It took him another century until he did finally stop him. But Seungkwan explained everything. And then he disappeared. If he hadn’t…..If he’d have guided me in those first few years. It might’ve saved the people I hurt.”
“It’s not your fault you reacted like that. You can’t blame yourself for what you did because of something you never asked for. That’s not fair, Junhui.”
He stares at you with an unreadable look on his face and you worry you’ve been too forward, acted too friendly or something when he is still your boss and you do barely know each other. It just feels so unjust though, for him to have never asked to be a vampire and it’s not like he could help the fact he needed blood to survive. It’s like holding it against a baby that they need milk or an adult human for needing water. He needed blood to survive.
“Sorry. You don’t need me to tell you that.”
“Actually,” he smiles, “I did. Thank you.”
It feels like if you speak now, you’ll ruin the moment. But is it even a moment? You feel like it is, the way he’s staring into your soul feels like it is. But maybe this is just him, maybe he’s always been kind and reserved and you’re only just now getting to know him.
“So,” you break eye contact, hoping that might stop your heart hammering, “there’s only two of you?”
“No,” he shakes his head, his smile broadening, “there’s six vampires left in total. Me and Seungkwan tend to stick together. Joshua and Jeonghan keep to themselves mostly, they’re living somewhere in the south of France and spend their time lounging around their pool and sleeping with whoever they please, masking it all behind being wealthy art dealers. And then there’s Soonyoung and Pearl….”
“Pearl?” You squint at him, confused by the sudden name change.
“Hm,” he hums, smiling to himself, “Soonyoung’s wife. She recently decided that a truly organic way of life is the way forward and now they live in a yurt somewhere in South America. Her name changes every few decades, she’s happy I suppose, and that’s all that matters. They went through a lot together, she got changed into a vampire by the same bastard who created me. It took Soonyoung years to convince her to change him. They’d been childhood sweet hearts and were only a week off getting married when she changed. She agreed eventually, but she hated doing it.”
“It’s romantic,”
“It’s barbaric,” He says harshly, “to willingly change the person you love, to sentence them to eternity. I understand why she did it but I don’t condone it. It’s like giving someone hundreds of life sentences.”
“S-sorry.” You mumble, a little taken aback by how his attitude changed.
You’re sorry you upset him but honestly, it doesn’t seem that bad. He’s seen all the wonders of the world, he’s lived through history and he seems to have done it all with people he would consider his friends. You’re struggling to see what could be so bad, other than the whole drinking blood thing.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes, “it’s just it seems great and everything but you’ve no idea how lonely it is. Sure you make friends but they either die or you have to move away before they realise they’re aging and you aren’t.”
“Did you never meet anyone you loved?” The idea leaves a sour taste on your tongue but you’re not expecting a man who is nearly two thousand years old to never have been in love. You’re only thirty and you’ve got more ex’s than you’d care to admit to.
“I did,” he says somewhat shyly, “and it isn’t like I live like a nun, I sleep with people,” you try not to grimace at that admission, “but I always have to hold myself back, I can’t be myself around them and so it never lasts.”
“You’ve never told any of them?” Why you feel a little smug about that, you don’t know. It’s not like he’s willingly told you, you literally walked in on him drinking blood. He could hardly deny it.
“Nope,” he says standing up, “only you. Now, do you want to see all my cool stuff?” He says, raising his brows like he’s trying to entice you into something but all you’re trying to do is forget the ‘only you’ he tacked onto the end of his last answer, and tell yourself that it doesn’t make you special.
“I’d love to” you recover.
“Great, follow me.”
“This is all,” you stare at the portrait of Junhui, standing beside who he tells you is DaVinci, “I don’t even know what to say.”
You stare around the room in wonderment. The whole top floor of his penthouse is dedicated to everything he’s collected over the years. He had to put in about four sets of codes to open the door. Not that it looks peculiar from the outside, it looks like the top floor of any other fancy home would, perfectly painted walls, ornate furniture and large wooden doors. But it’s all just a facade, only one of the doors is real and behind the real one is treasures that you’d never thought you or anyone would ever see.
So far he’s shown you Ernest Hemingway’s lost suitcase which he swears he had nothing to do with actually stealing, he just happened to be at a bar in Paris when the man who had stolen it was boasting about it and how that man had then very sadly lost it. When Junhui had tracked down Earnest, as he called him because obviously he seems to know everyone personally, Earnest had said he didn’t want it back, it added an air of mystery to his name that would help his name and works be remembered far more than just the literature he’d had published. And so he forgot Junhui had ever told him he’d found it and Junhui now holds one of the most looked for mysteries in modern literature.
He has Shakespeare manuscripts, which apparently “Will” had given Junhui himself as thanks for helping him get home in time for his wife’s birthday. The way he spoke about him like he was just some friend that he’d lost touch with, chuckling to himself as he told you stories about how they’d meet up after performances and argue about which actor made the best Hamlet or whether the Globe was looking a bit shabby.
Looking through his bookcases was like looking through history, like seeing every character you’ve ever loved and known in their earliest form. No editing or altering that may have happened over the years. Your bookcases when you get home will look pretty shit when you walk in and you’re confronted with your battered copies of all his treasures.
“You’ve seen history. Like, you’ve seen words being created. Shakespeare invented almost 2000 words you know, or at least made them popular. And you were there, it’s just so……I don’t know…..big?” you look up at a bookshelf, eyes widening when you see what looks like an ancient, probably original written copy of Journey to The West.
You’ve spent the past hour, when you weren’t listening to Junhui telling you the stories of his life, wandering round the large room like it’s the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. And it is the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. But Junhui, he’s seen a lot of great things. But he thinks the greatest thing he’s ever seen in his whole long life is you in this room. The way you get excited when you spot something that you can’t believe you’re seeing, or the way your eyes widen every time he mentions someone in history that always sounded more like another book character than a real person.
He’d always thought you were beautiful, your whole aura lights up even the most boring of meetings and on the few occasions he’d spoken to you, he thought you were completely endearing. He did wonder whether there was something going on between you and Wonwoo. But then he saw Wonwoo put you in a headlock one day when you were arguing over who got the last piece of the brownie you’d bought, and that put the end to that idea. There was nothing romantic in that headlock. Or the way you bit his arm to get out of it. It didn’t matter anyway. Junhui made the decision long ago that he would never start a relationship with anyone, too many people get hurt. And he knew if he started something with you, it wouldn’t and couldn’t be a one time thing like so many of the flings he’s had over the past few centuries.
But then you caught him drinking blood and when he’d found you (having found your address by hacking the HR records he knows he shouldn’t have been looking in), the way you’d tried to fight him only warmed his heart. He saw your books, he felt how kind and warm you were with someone that you should’ve been scared of and he couldn’t help himself. He told himself this was just because he knew you’d appreciate everything he’d collected over the centuries, and that he was just excited to show someone everything, that wasn’t Seungkwan. Who had as much interest in this stuff as a bollard.
But he was playing with fire. And he knew it.
“He invented most of the words he’s credited for.”
He waits for you to realise what he’s said. And like clock work you freeze and whip around to face him.
“You didn’t invent words,” you scoff, “did you?” you ask slowly.
“Radiance.”
You stare at him. He invented a whole fucking word and he says it like it’s nothing? Sure, people have invented new terms before when new things are invented. But radiance is just an everyday word. Everyone knows it and everyone uses it.
“You invented the word radiance?”
“Mm-mm,” he nods, “Will wanted a word in All’s Well That Ends Well to describe the beauty of someone, and I thought about the fact it brings light when you’re around someone you love. Anyway, radius is Latin for beam. But you’re radius sounds almost insulting. So I suggested radiance and all’s well that ends well.” He shrugs, laughing at his own joke.
“Who were you thinking of when you invented it?” It’s none of your business, you don’t know why you’re asking, but you can’t help wanting to know and your mouth moves quicker than your head.
“No-one in particular. I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who made me feel that way.”
“Didn’t?” You glance at his lips.
“Yeah. Didn’t.” He glances down at yours.
The air suddenly feels like you can’t breathe, there’s something drawing you to him even though you know you should be scared of him. But he must feel it too, he hasn’t moved away or broken the moment and yet neither of you move closer. It’s like you’re stuck in your place but wishing that he’d take the initiative and do what you want him to. You daren’t, you don’t know whether it would spark something fearsome in him. Although the idea of him biting you makes you weirdly excited but you try to push that thought to the back of your mind.
The sound of the buzzer for his elevator breaks you out of the moment, both of you jumping at the sound and crashing back down to reality.
“That’ll be the food,” he rushes off, “you take your time up here, I’ll get the food and plates. I’ll shout you when it’s all sorted.”
“Ok.” you say quietly, watching his back as he rushes off out of the room.
He felt it. You’re sure he did. But you don’t want to bring it up and ruin whatever this is and so you go back to pursuing his bookshelves. Every other find makes you more shocked than the last but you can’t shake what just happened and the moment you just shared. Because you are certain it was shared. It can’t have just been you that felt it.
About ten minutes later and you hear him bellowing from two floors below you. Clearly he’s not just got it in him to be quick but also damn loud too.
“That copy of To Kill A Mockingbird,” you start as you hop down the last two steps, feeling weirdly at home in this penthouse you’d never been in until today, “it’s not actually signed is it? Harper Lee barely signed any copies. If you were in Europe, how do you have a signed copy?”
He beams at you from the sofa as you wander over, your stomach growling at the sight of the noodles he’d ordered. He’s set it up on the coffee table so you can both sit on the floor to eat just like you would at home. It’s pretty easy to forget he’s a blood drinking vampire when he acts like any other person you know.
“I’ve lived in every country in the world at some point _____. And I met Harper when I was working at NASA. I went to Alabama to visit a friend, who happened to be friends with her and she was kind enough to sign a copy for me when I said I collected literature.”
You gawk at him, the drink he’d poured you half way to your mouth. But to be perfectly honest, you’re just pleased you haven’t dropped it all over yourself.
“N-nasa……..you met…..WHAT?!”
He tries not to laugh at you, if he’s honest he just wants to squeeze your cheeks because you’re so fucking cute, but he doesn’t.
“I was helping with the dimensions and initial plans for the rocket. Leonardo,” you huff at how he just references DaVinci like an old friend, “had a keen interest in aviation and he told me about some screw that could withstand high amounts of pressure, hundreds of years ago. I wrote to NASA, obviously not telling them where I'd learnt it, and they asked for my help for a month or so.”
“I thought I was cool because I went to school with a girl who has ten million followers on Instagram but shit,” you lean back against his sofa staring at the noodles.
“Hey, things change and what’s cool changes.” he shrugs, moving your noodles in front of you.
“Oh please, I bet you don’t even know what Instagram is and working on a rocket that went to the moon beats followers every day of the week.”
“I do know what it is, thank you very much,” he smiles as you both pick up your chopsticks, “and I will admit. The rocket is pretty cool.”
“And yet you didn’t know lol when I put it in that email?” You challenge playfully.
“Yeah, you did catch me off guard with that. How did you know?”
“Oh!” Shit. You can’t tell him that a large part of your day is spent watching him. And another large part is spent fantasising about what you’d do if you ever found yourself alone with him, “I just happened to look over as you checked the email on your phone, that’s all.”
You shove the noodles in your mouth as quickly as you can, trying to ignore how he seems to be watching you as you do, clearly not believing a word you said but he lets it go.
“Did you see the Austen?”
“Oh my god,” you wipe your mouth, hurriedly swallowing the food you were chewing, “yes! I can’t believe you have that! I never thought I’d see that, all three volumes of Pride and Prejudice. Well. First Impressions.” You pause, thinking about what you’ve just said, “if you’re about to tell me that it was you that made her change the name I think I will actually explode or something.”
“I’m not,” he laughs, taking a sip of his drink, “but I did meet her once.”
“What was she like?” You ask excitedly.
“She was headstrong,” he nods fondly, “but. She was sad, mostly. She seemed like she never really got what she wanted in life, like she was living through the women in her stories. But she was kind and clever, and told Seungkwan to stop being so moody when his horse had eaten his hat, so she’ll always be a hero in my eyes.”
“I’m pleased she was kind.” you sigh, “I always loved her books.I’m not sure I’d cope if I found out she was this awful human being that everyone hated,”
“Do you know who was a weirdo?”
“Who?” you ask, like he’s about to tell you some juicy gossip.
“Mary Shelley. Have you ever heard the story of…….”
“That she lost her virginity on her mother’s grave. Yeah, I've heard it but it can’t be……” Your words trail off when you see his face. “NO?!”
“Yep,” he nods, like he hates talking about it but loves it at the same time, “it’s true.”
“It wasn’t……you?”
“NO!!” He looks horrified, “It was Percy! Thank god they married each other. Pair of odd bods.” he shivers like the memory of them disgusts him.
“What the hell possessed them to do that?” You grimace.
“Fuck knows but they were pretty proud of it. He was married at the time too. Which in my opinion just makes it all so much worse. Those two caused chaos.”
“You don’t have Frankenstein then?” You chuckle, going back to your noodles.
“Oh I do, it’s a first edition, signed and everything. But it’s right up at the top where I don’t have to see it and be reminded of how much she scared me.”
“A vampire? Scared of a normal woman?”
“She was weird ok!” He laughs defensively.
You eat pretty quietly after that. Both of you quite content in each other’s company. The rest of the day is spent looking through more of his collection, him showing you coins and little treasures from every country and era he’s lived through, even describing exactly what it was like when they finally finished the great wall of China after centuries of work. But you don’t remember much after he awkwardly asked you if you wanted to watch a film, neither of you wanting to say goodbye just yet, because you fell asleep. Not a care in the world for the fact that you’d managed to well and truly fluster Junhui, when your head landed on his shoulder, for the first time in almost two thousand years.
The sound of pots and pans clanging around stir you awake from an absolutely bizarre dream in which you had to stop Wonwoo from fleeing with Jane Austen because she’d already said she’d marry you, even though gay marriage was hundreds of years off being made legal. It had ended pretty abruptly when presumably Junhui had moved a pan pretty heavily. But in your dream you’d pushed Wonwoo in front of a moving carriage because there was no well in hell he was taking your girlfriend.
You’ve no idea how and when you made it into this overly comfortable bed but you admit you’re in no rush to get out of it. Even in your clothes you’d arrived in yesterday, it’s still the most comfortable you think you’ve ever been in your whole life. But the smell of bacon draws you from your need to stay in the cocoon you’ve made for yourself and you begrudgingly get out of the bed.
Before you can even start to worry about the fact you’re imposing on his hospitality, not that you’d intentionally fallen asleep on him and presumably, if he was uncomfortable, he’d have woken you up and said it was time for you to go, you find a set of folded clothes, a note and even some toiletries.
Good morning! Or good night, depending on when you wake up. When you’re ready, I’ll cook us some breakfast. I’ve left some comfy clothes and some stuff to freshen up with (if you want to of course). Hope you slept well.
Junhui
Fuck, you really want to not read too much into the fact he’s lending you clothes and he doesn’t seem mad that you’d taken up one of his spare rooms, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel all giggly because he seems quite happy to have you here.
You shower and brush your teeth with what he's left you, not surprised that he’s left you only the best products on the market and quickly dry your hair once you’re in his sweat pants and t-shirt, noting that the t-shirt reads ‘I love books and I tolerate you’, and rush down the stairs. You get the impression you could spend years with Junhui and still not know everything about his life but damn you’ve enjoyed getting to know him. And even when he asked about your life, he seemed genuinely interested, like what you were telling him wasn’t the same old story he’s probably heard a thousand times before.
It takes you a second to get your bearings but you find the stairs pretty quickly and speed down them, slowing slightly at the bottom then he doesn’t think you’re over eager. You find him in the kitchen, where you presumed he was from the smell of bacon and clattering of pans, this time in shorts and hoody and once again looking like he’d give the best, most snuggly hugs. Not what most people would think of if they were spending time with a vampire but there’s just something about Junhui that seems to scream comfort to you.
“Good morning.” You say quietly, suddenly feeling a little nervous.
“Hey!” He smiles, spinning round with the pan, “I hope I didn’t wake you. All these years on the planet and I’ve still not mastered cooking really. Many have tried but I’ve still burnt the bacon.” he frowns into the pan.
“It’s fine. I like crispy bacon,” you grin at him, sitting on one of the stools when he tells you to sit down and it shouldn’t be long, “thank you for leaving these clothes out. And I’m sorry I fell asleep, I hope I’m not intruding. I will be out of your hair soon and I’ll wash these and bring them to work tomorrow.” You say happily, pouring yourself some apple juice he’d decanted into a jug.”
“Are you in a rush to get home?” He winces when rather dark bacon lands on the plate in front of you.
“Not really,” you shrug, “but I’m sure you have plans and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
“I do have plans,” he mumbles as he sits down next to you, “but I wondered if you wanted to come with me?”
“Sure.” you say, trying to eat the bacon without him noticing just how hard it is to chew.
“You don’t want to ask what we’re doing?” He jokes.
Shit. Now he thinks you’re over eager. But do you even care? You like him, he seems to like you, why shouldn’t you show him that you enjoy spending time with him?
“Sorry, sure, what were your plans?”
“There’s an exhibition of ancient Chinese literature at one of the galleries, I was hoping to check it out.”
“Compare your ancient Chinese literature with theirs?” You smirk knowingly.
“Exactly. And we could get dinner? If you’re not bored of me of course.”
“Junhui, I think if I found the hot vampire boss boring, then there’s no hope for me.”
You go back to buttering a slice of toast before you even realise what you’ve just said but when you do, your horror stricken eyes meet his wide smile.
“I-I didn’t mean…….wait no I’m not saying you’re not hot……oh god” you groan, hiding your head in your arm.
“Hey, I’ll take it. It’s not every day a sexy older woman calls you hot.”
You drop your toast. One because Junhui just called you sexy. But mainly because, what the hell does he mean ‘older woman'?!
“Older woman? You’re almost two thousand years old!”
“Yeah but when I was changed I was only 28. So technically you’re a cougar.”
“That would suggest this is something more than friends?”
He freezes, like he hadn’t thought this through but you just put that down to the fact that he’s not used to this. He said he’s only used to one night stands and things, maybe the beginnings of a relationship are odd to him after all this time.
“You done?” He stands up, taking his plate over to the dishwasher.
“I am,” you smile happily following him over and helping him clean up, “could we stop by my place so I can get changed?”
“You don’t want to go out in my t-shirt?” he smirks at you, “I’m insulted _____.”
You giggle, like joking and eating breakfast with Junhui is the most natural thing in the world. You could get used to this, and now you’ve made it clear that you like him, and he seems to like you too all you feel is excitement for what’s to come. The day passes in a blur of laughter and Junhui being very smug that some of the “ancient relics” were actually reprints that no-one has noticed, before you have dinner under the stars at an open top restaurant and he drops you home. Now having the courage to hug you, not just awkwardly pat your arm like he did two days prior. And you go to sleep full of happiness and excitement for this flourishing relationship.
For the past month you’ve spent every weekend with Junhui. Even at the office you message each other and on a couple of occasions he’s eaten lunch with you and Wonwoo. They both discovered they have a shared interest in comic books and you started to worry that Junhui would kick you to the curb and decide Wonwoo was the one for him.
Wonwoo nearly fell to his knees and proposed when he visited Junhui’s apartment one night after work and he saw he has every edition of his favourite series. Junhui hasn’t told him he’s a vampire and thankfully the comic books are in his TV room, so Wonwoo just thinks the top floor is more bedrooms and has no idea that Junhui is hoarding some of the world’s greatest treasures up there. You're certain Wonwoo genuinely wouldn't care if Junhui casually told him he was a vampire, he's the most laid back man you've ever met. It’d be a quick “cool, about those comic books" and he'd never mention it again.
But up until you Junhui had never told anyone. And he only told you because he had to. So you don't want to push it.
You did worry that you were spending too much time with him, that you were over staying your welcome whenever you went over to his place. But it was almost like he was actively finding reasons for you to stay and, most of the time, he was messaging you first and finding more and more reasons to talk to you. Not that you minded. You could spend every waking second of the day with him and never get bored.
But there was one thing that was playing on your mind. You didn’t know what this all was. It felt like the beginnings of a relationship, at times it felt like it was a relationship, he would always make sure you’d eaten and wish you good morning or good night, you felt like you were going on dates.
They definitely felt like dates. But then he’d never even held your hand or made any attempt to kiss you or anything. Though you’re certain he wants more, every time you find yourself saying goodbye to each other, he spends more time looking at your lips than he does looking you in the eye. It cannot just be friends. You can't have gotten it so wrong that he thinks this is just friendship.
It’s annoying you but you’re trying to be understanding. There’s presumably so many different things he has to think about to even be around humans the way he is. He must always feel a constant urge to bite, to taste blood and you don’t want to make that worse for him. And so at the moment you’re content to just see where this goes, you love spending time with him and he seems to love spending time with you, what more do you even need right now?
A message flashes up on your screen as you’re editing, the sight of Vernon’s name making your stomach drop.
Vernon: OH MY GOD WE ARE GOING TO HAVE SO MUCH FUN
You: What are you talking about? I’ve told you Vernon, I’m not getting high with you
Vernon: Not that. The book retreat!! I can’t believe you agreed to it, honestly your bosses seemed dubious but Junhui just told me!! Thank you for saying yes, me and my creative juices need this. Fuck three months in Peru!!!! Get packing bestie!!!!!!
You stare at your screen. What the fuck is he talking about? He’s high. He must be. Because there’s no way the company would allow that long an extension for him or his juices. And three months? Away from home? And what the hell is in Peru that’s going to make him write anymore than his creative trip to Thailand or Alaska.
This whole thing seems like bullshit but the one thing that’s making it worse? “Junhui just told me”. Does he agree with this? He wants you gone for three months? But you were just sat daydreaming about the date he has planned for the weekend. He was going to take you to see some gardens that he’d found years ago that have the rarest flowers in Asia. And yet now you find out he’s shipping you off to Peru?
This isn’t right. Before you can even re-read the messages again to make sure what you’ve read is right, you’re carried through the office on a wave of anger and hurt, and within seconds you’re knocking on the door to Junhui’s office. You don’t even wait for him to say come in, what’s the point, it’s not like you can find him doing anything worse than the last time walked into his office.
You find him reading through a manuscript but he puts it down pretty quickly when he sees you.
“Hey! I didn’t hear you knock, sorry I was miles away in this……”
“I knocked.” You interrupt, not liking him insinuating that you hadn’t.
“I didn’t say you didn’t knock _____.” He frowns, he's never seen you pissed off. It doesn't suit and he doesn't know what he's done to cause it, but he hates it.
“You’re sending me away?”
Junhui stands up, not having realised Vernon would open his big mouth already.
“I’m not sending you. Vernon asked could you go with him, he said he needed you to keep him out of trouble.”
“So you’re sending me away?” You press again.
“_____ this is your job.” He sighs, walking around his desk and leaning against it in front of you.
“He’s been on hundreds of writer’s retreats and I’ve never had to go then! Why do I have to go now? I’d be gone for three months! You’d be ok with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be ok with that?”
You stare at him, the only thing you feel is your heart cracking and your finger frantically picking the skin near your thumb nail, because at the moment, it’s the only thing reminding you that this isn’t all a nightmare. And sadly is your reality.
“Because we’re…….we’re,” you want to say because we’re a couple but now you just feel fucking stupid for even letting yourself think that.
“We’re friends _____. Friends can go three months without seeing each other.”
“Friends? We call everything over the past month being friends?!”
“Nothing’s happened between us _____. I’ve never given any inclination that it was more.” He says it kindly, too kindly. Like he’s rehearsed this or something.
But all you feel is panic. You can’t have gotten this so wrong? You know what you felt and you know that he felt it too! You’ve seen him speak to multiple women in this office, he never talks to their fucking lips, he doesn’t even spend time with them more than he actually has to.
But then has all this just been because you know about him? That you’re the only person who’s ever found out he’s a vampire and he’s felt like he had to be kind to you to make sure you didn’t tell anyone? He’s just been tolerating you because he didn’t want you to blow his secret. It cannot be that. You can't fake how happy he was when you were together.
“That’s not true,” you say quietly, staring anywhere but at him, though maybe if you did you’d see the pain in his eyes, “I know what I feel Junhui. Has this all been a lie? You don’t even like spending time with me?” You look at him, his heart breaking when he sees tears welling in your eyes.
“I do like spending time with you _____. Like I would any other friend. STOP DOING THAT!” He makes you jump when his voice suddenly raises and there’s an anger in it you didn’t think you’d ever hear from him.
You glance down at where his eyes are fixed but all that’s there is your hand. You weren’t doing anything to warrant that outburst.
“So you want me to go? For three months?” You ignore his anger and demand an answer.
“I want you to do your job,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead, “he needs to get this novel finished and you’re going with him. End of discussion.”
“You can’t just do that! You’d throw this away, you’d…….”
But before you can finish your sentence you feel like all the air has been knocked out of you as your back hits the office wall, Junhui painfully close to you caging you in. You say Junhui, this isn’t your Junhui, it’s not the man that two weeks ago tried to make you cupcakes and failed spectacularly.
No, this Junhui could only be described as a monster. His face is so close to yours but you feel no warmth, his breath is like ice and when you focus on his face, your blood turns as cold as he is. His eyes are blood red, almost shimmering in their sockets, his skin pale and with fangs that send a wave of horror through your body.
His breath is ragged and even though you try to wiggle out of his hold, whimpering slightly at how the man you thought you were falling for has turned into something from your nightmares, he stops you, his body rigid against yours like a tonne weight, not a normal man.
“J-junhui, please,” you whimper, trying to push him off but he just stays staring at you like you’re his next victim, “you said you d-didn’t do this. This i-isn’t you Junhui.”
“You don’t know who I am,” he spits, no care in his voice, not like there used to be, “I told you to stop fucking doing that, why can’t you listen?!”
You glance down at your hand, every inch of your skin prickling and yet a numbness over takes you when you see what he's talking about.
Blood.
Your blood.
Where you’d been frantically picking at the skin near your thumb, a habit your mom always said you should stop and now it’s going to be the thing that drives Junhui to do something he hasn’t done in centuries. You get the sudden urge to run, to bolt out of this office and never look back and yet it’s like your feet are cemented to the spot. It’s not like you could move anyway, he’s got you trapped.
He’s got you trapped as blood trickles down your thumb and you get the impression that he’s not going to be able to hold back much longer.
“I’m sorry,” you cry softly, trying to wipe your thumb on your skirt, “I didn’t m-mean to. Please Junhui, this is me, it’s _____, you can’t do this. You haven't hurt anyone in years! You said you regretted ever hurting anyone!”
“But they,” he takes a deep breath, almost thriving off the scent of your fresh blood, causing you to whimper and try to cling to the wall, “didn’t walk in here demanding things and not doing as they were told.”
The way he’s speaking, the way he’s leering at you, it’s like being in the worst horror film you’ve seen. Only normally when Wonwoo makes you watch those, you can cover your eyes and pretend you’re not there. But you are here. And you can’t get away from the monster in front of you.
“I-I didn’t demand. I got it wrong, I was wrong. I’ll go to Peru. I’ll go wherever you want me to. Just please Junhui, let me go.” You plead, tears streaming and body shaking.
“You’ve ruined everything you know,” he hisses with his head in your neck, his lips just millimeters away from him getting everything he needs and you never taking another breath, “I was happy. Or as happy as I could be and then you,” his teeth graze your skin, “you come barging in here and fuck my life up. And now you try to tell me this isn’t me?” his teeth stop, the tips of fangs weighing on your skin, “This is why you shouldn’t be here. I can’t be in a relationship, I can’t give you what you think you want, this is me _____. This is my reality the second I let you in too far and you suddenly hurt yourself or fall and graze your knee. This,” his teeth scrape down your skin as you sob and try to lean away from him, “is the reality of your life if you don’t fucking leave me alone.”
You can’t even speak, your breathing is heavy, your body is quivering in fear. It would only take a second and he’d taste you, he’d kill you.
“Get out, get out of the office. Out of the fucking building. Just don’t come back in before you leave with Vernon.”
He turns away from you and your heart breaks. You caused this. He told you to stop and you didn’t.
“I-I’m sorry Junhui, please………”
“GET OUT!!!”
You flinch and rush off out of the office. Ignoring the confused stares from your co-workers and how Wonwoo is already making his way over to you. You just grab your coat and bag and sprint out of the building not even able to decide if you’re more hurt by him dismissing the past month or relieved that you’ve managed to get away from him before he did something that he’d regret and you wouldn’t have survived.
Junhui can’t concentrate. Even with heightened senses and rocket-like reflexes, he’s been reading the same manuscript for three days and not a single word is making any sense to him. He’s never felt like this, sure he’s probably felt like this but if he has, he doesn’t remember it. He’s had hundreds of people in his life die, it’s just the circle of life, people are born and people die. When his mother died, he was distraught but even that didn’t feel like this. She was old and it was her time and although it broke him, he could make sense of it.
But he can’t make sense of what he’s feeling at the moment.
It’s been three days since he told you to leave the office and not come back until you’d been away with Vernon. And for three days he’s felt pain like he’s never felt before. His chest aches and he hasn't eaten, even Seungkwan dropped by yesterday when Junhui hadn’t been to collect his usual supply of blood. Seungkwan was expecting a lot of things when he made it to Junhui’s apartment but his friend of almost two thousand years, crying and watching sad movies was definitely not one of them. He told him everything, poured his heart out and Seungkwan’s response? “You’re a fucking idiot.”
But that’s easy for him to say, he seems to be able to have relationships for a few years and then carry on like nothing ever happened. Junhui couldn’t do that. Not with you. In the month you’d be in his life fully, not just as an employee, he’d fallen in love with you. He knew he had because he’d never felt like this in his life. He just wanted to be around you all the time, the sound of your laugh made even his cold heart warm and when you talked about what you loved, it just made him hope that one day, you’d look like that when you spoke about him too.
A week ago he nearly kissed you. You’d been at his place, not even doing anything exciting, just sitting on his sofa, your feet tucked under his leg as you both sat reading. He’d noticed you had a habit of telling him the little excerpts of what you were reading that had made you laugh or meant something to you and, in his opinion, that was one of the most intimate things you could do. To want to share even the smallest of things that made you feel even the smallest emotion showed him just how much you cared about his opinion but also showing him that you want him to see what’s important to you, even if it’s the littlest of things.
The sun setting behind you as you giggled quoting the line of your book, you just looked so radiant that it took everything in him to not throw caution to the wind and finally kiss you, just like he’d wanted to do when you were trying to fight him off with The Chronicles of Narnia.
But that night served as a warning. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let himself be tempted no matter how much he felt like he needed you. How would he go on for eternity when you’d gone? He wasn’t scared of stopping loving you when you grew old, he knew he’d love you no matter how old you got, you’d still be you. But what would happen to Junhui? Once he’d given you everything and he had to go on forever knowing his one true love would never be with him again.
So when Vernon was moaning about writing retreats he saw an opportunity to get you away from him for a while. The idea hurt him, it is hurting him, but it would hurt more in the long run and it would give you a chance to meet someone else, to live your life without having to deal with everything that comes with him being a vampire. You deserved to live and to be happy and he knew at some point, he’d end up hurting you.
Though he’s not sure any of that would even matter anymore, you’d surely never want to see him again even after you’ve come back in a few months time. The fear in your eyes when you saw the worst side of him will stay with him forever more, the tears and way you flinched away from him broke him. He’s not even sure why his reaction was so visceral. He can be around blood, over the centuries he’s perfected his self restraint meaning that he can be around even the worst injuries. But that one small tear on your skin triggered something in him that he hasn’t experienced in over a thousand years. Seungkwan said it was probably how the mixture of needing to send you away, the reality of sending you away and how the confusion he was feeling at loving someone, truly loving someone, was playing with his emotions. That one drop of blood was the straw that broke the camel’s back and the end result was him terrifying the last person on earth he’d want to hurt.
You’d tried to call him. Though he’s no idea why. He’s no idea why you even said sorry to him before you ran out of his office. It was him who should’ve been apologising, not you.
A knock on his office door shakes him from his thoughts and for a few hopeful seconds he thinks it’s you, that you’ve resorted to barging into his office again just like last time because he’s ignoring your calls. But who is he kidding? You won’t want to be in the same room as him again. Not now.
“Come in!” He didn’t think anyone was left in the office, let alone needing to speak to him.
“What the fuck have you done to her?!”
“Wonwoo? What? Done to who?” Junhui stands up and marches round his desk as Wonwoo storms into his office.
“Oh come on, you know who. Last time I saw her she was running out of here, crying and fucking terrified! And now she won’t answer her phone, she won’t open her door. That isn’t _____!! What the fuck did you do?! I swear if you’ve hurt so much as a hair on her head, I’ll fucking kill you!!”
“I wouldn’t hurt her!”
Wonwoo scoffs, so close to Junhui that he can feel his breath against his skin, fists clenched like he’s ready to fight.
“Oh so it’s just a coincidence that she runs out of your office and now she won’t talk to anyone? You’ve done something. I know you have. I really thought you were better than this, all those fucking months she’s been hoping something would happen and you’ve broken her!!”
So you’d liked him longer than he even knew? Fuck that just makes him feel even worse. You liked him and even when you found out the worst secret you could, it still didn’t change your opinion on him. All it does is confirm you’re everything he thought you were and more, to not let even something like what’s wrong with him affect your opinion of him, just shows what a remarkable woman you are. He just hopes Wonwoo isn’t right. He hopes he hasn’t broken you.
He racks his brain for how to get out of this but all he can think to do is tell the truth. It would mean telling someone else and someone else knowing his secret, another chance that his life as he knows it would come crashing down. But Wonwoo isn’t going to let this go and the last thing he needs is someone saying he in some way is a man who would harm a woman, or anyone for that matter.
“Sit down.”
“Fuck off. What did you do to my friend?!”
“Wonwoo!! Sit. Down.”
Wonwoo must sense some sort of danger in Junhui’s eyes because he actually does as he’s told and sits down. For once in his life.
“I don’t know how to start.” Junhui sighs, hoping the ceiling might have some answers.
“I don’t care where you start, just get to the part where you hurt _____ and then I can try and fix it.”
“When she came to show me the manuscripts that you’d mentioned in the meeting…..”
“That was ages ago,” Wonwoo interrupts angrily, “I want to know what’s happened now!”
“You will! Just listen to me! Please!”
Wonwoo just glares, his arms folded and waiting to hear what any of this could have to do with what’s wrong with you.
“When she came in, I didn’t hear her knocking. When she found me I was,” he sighs, knowing with every admission of what he is, he risks a little more of his safety, “I was drinking blood.”
Wonwoo just stares at him and Junhui wonders if he actually said it out loud. It sounded like he said it outloud. But Junhui imagined a lot of reactions. Wonwoo just having a blank face was not one of them and it’s unsettling him to be honest.
“Did you…..”
“I heard you,” Wonwoo booms with nothing but disdain, “what does that have to do with what happened three days ago?”
“You’re not going to ask why I was drinking it?”
“To be honest, I don’t give a flying fuck. I want to know what it has to do with _____.”
“I’m a vampire.” He says bluntly.
“Well I would hope so if you’re drinking blood. At least it means you’re not a weirdo.”
Junhui just stares at him. How can one man be so indifferent to finding out that not only do vampires exist, his boss and new found friend is one? Junhui could only dream of being that easy going. You’d told him that Wonwoo was a chill guy. But there’s being a chill guy and then whatever the fuck Wonwoo is.
“That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say? I don’t care what you are, man, I just want to know what’s happened to my best friend!”
“I said she needed to go with Vernon for three months to Peru.”
“As what? Punishment for her finding out? You only started hanging out after she found out, why has something happened now?”
“Fuck, it’s better starting from the beginning,” Junhui sighs, throwing himself on the sofa next to Wonwoo, “she ran off when she saw me and when I got to her place, she tried to fight me off with garlic and The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.” Junhui smiles fondly at the memory.
“That woman,” Wonwoo shakes his head with a look of either disdain or disbelief, possibly a mixture of both Junhui thinks, “she has no fight or flight skills. She did self defence for like two weeks and decided she’d just negotiate out of a dangerous situation and that fighting wasn’t for her.”
Junhui can’t help but smile to himself, even through the pain. He can imagine you in the classes, deciding there and then that it wasn’t for you, even remembering how you’d tried to negotiate a safety buffer between the two of you when he’d first entered your apartment. Fuck he’s way too down bad for you. This is all too much.
“Even after she found out, after the initial shock, she still managed to empathise with what it must be like, to be two thousand years old and everything that comes with it.”
“Huh,” Wonwoo huffs, glaring out the corner of his eye.
“What” Junhui frowns.
“Two thousand, it’s just not that impressive,” he shrugs, “I thought you’d be older.”
Junhui blinks at him. If he’s honest he’s pretty fucking pissed that out of the two people he’s told, one had messed with his heart more than anyone ever has and the other has basically just said that he’s disappointing!
“But that doesn’t explain what happened the other day, unless…….Did you try to bite her?!”
“No! I mean, fuck!” he wipes his face his hands, “I love her. I love her like I’ve never loved anyone but I can’t be with her, I can’t ruin her life and I can’t live for an eternity without her, when she’s gone. So I acted like we were just friends, even when she was trying to tell me it was more and that she couldn’t be away for three months. I thought hurting her now was better than hurting her more later on. But she kept picking her fucking thumb even when I told her to stop and she made it bleed and I lost control. For the first time in centuries I wanted to bite someone. I didn’t. But I wanted to. And she saw me how I never wanted her to, I was seconds away from biting her Wonwoo.”
“But you didn’t?” He needs to check and Junhui gets that.
“I didn’t,” he shakes his head, “but I scared her, she was fucking trembling and pleading and still all I wanted to do was bite her.”
“If you love her, could you not just turn her into what you are?”
“You think it’s that easy?” Junhui looks at Wonwoo incredulously, “I’d be taking away her life Wonwoo, I’d be sentencing her to a life never ending.”
“But,” Wonwoo frowns, “surely if you have a life of eternity together then it’s not so bad. Plus you could turn me too, I’m a hoot!”
For the first time in days, Junhui laughs a little. Not a lot. But a little is better than nothing. It passes too quickly though, the reality of what turning someone into a vampire actually means, stopping any small amount of joy he might feel even for the briefest moment.
“It’s like murder Wonwoo. I haven’t fed off people since I was four hundred or so years old. I wouldn’t even know if I could stop once I’d started. I couldn’t cope with that, if I couldn’t help myself and I ended up losing her.”
“So your solution was to send her away for three months? What was that even going to achieve Junhui?”
“She might’ve met someone,” Junhui shrugs, not even believing what he’s saying.
“You’ve met _____,” Wonwoo looks at him dubiously, “she isn’t the kind of person to just fall out of love with someone. She loves with her whole heart and she’s been wanting you for a lot longer than you know. If her finding out this,” he gestures his hands at Junhui, “didn’t scare her off, why would being away from you for three months do anything?”
“It was the only thing I could think of. I can’t do it Wonwoo. To her or me.”
“Fucking idiot.” He scoffs and shakes his head.
Junhui just wishes people would see what he’s trying to say, why the fuck does everyone think its so easy?! To just take the life out of someone?!
“You know it’s not tha……….” But Wonwoo’s phone ringing cuts him off.
“Hello?”
Wonwoo’s face changes from indifference to horror and Junhui is immediately filled with a feeling of dread. Because if Wonwoo shows so much indifference when being confronted with an actual vampire, nothing good could’ve gotten that reaction from him.
“Come on,” he rushes when he hangs up his phone and runs to the office door.
“Why?”
“It’s _____. Just hurry the fuck up, we need to get to the hospital now.”
To say your head is throbbing would be an understatement, it feels like someone’s using your head as a bass drum and you’re not even sure you can open your eyes. But the sound of someone repeatedly saying your name makes you panic, had you drunkenly called Wonwoo? Perhaps keeping your eyes closed would be the better option, you don’t need one of his lectures about how he wasn’t put on this earth to be your nurse maid. Something he refuses to listen to when he has a cold and you insist on giving him the same speech.
You don’t even remember coming back from the store, you remember going to the store. You’d just finished packing for three long months in the depths of hell with Vernon and decided what the fuck, you don’t have anything to do for the two days until you have to leave. You were going to get drunk, watch Twilight and berate Bella for even going near a vampire, but then at least her vampire admitted his feelings. Perhaps if you find a nice werewolf, he might be more inclined to not try and gaslight you into thinking that you’re just friends.
All you want to do is stew in your hangover and yet some prick just will not stop saying your name……..
“______ can you hear me?! Fuck, where the hell is that doctor?!”
Doctor? For a hangover. That seems somewhat extreme, even for a drinking lightweight like you.
“Wh…..” you try to speak but even trying makes your head hurt, “Jun……” What are you thinking of? Of course it’s not Junhui, that’s just your fantasies talking.
“Oh that’s very nice,”
You know that voice. You’d sadly know Wonwoo’s voice anywhere but you just can’t seem to come round enough to give him a piece of your mind.
“_____? Can you hear me?”
That is a voice you don’t recognise. What the hell has Wonwoo done? He’s surely not invited a group of people round to deal with your drunken ass?
“_____ try to open your eyes for me.” Well that seems to be easier said than done, because it feels like your eyelids are being weighed down by bricks. “Take it slow and open them,”
You don’t know who this demanding ass is but can he not see you’re trying to open your eyes?! Fucking bossy. God knows where Wonwoo has found him but he can damn well leave your apartment as soon as you can hurl yourself out of bed.
You manage to open them, the lights far brighter than you remember your bedroom lights being. And in fact you don’t remember your ceiling looking like the one you’re blinking into focus at all.
A massive head looms over you and you flinch, the last face you had so close was that of a monster that up until a few days ago you’d have sworn you loved. Though you’re still fairly certain you do. Hence the need to drink and shout at Bella Swan to get as far away from Edward as possible.
“Can you hear me?”
Why is this man treating you like you’re an idiot?
“Obviously.” You rasp and hear Wonwoo snort. But when you try to move your head and glare at him, it feels like you’ve been surgically attached to whatever you’re lying on.
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I’m not twelve,” you croak out, your voice sounding much weaker than you remember.
To his credit, the man looming over you chuckles, but holds his hand up again.
“I’m a doctor. You’ve been unconscious for two days, could you help me out and tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”
Unconscious?! And for two days?! Fuck you need to find Vernon, you need to catch your flight. Or maybe you have caught your flight, perhaps Vernon had finally persuaded you to get high with him and now you’ve embarrassingly over done it and this nice Peruvian doctor is trying to help you. But then why would Wonwoo be here? If they’ve made him come and get you all the way from Peru, you’ll never here the fucking end of it.
“Three.”
“Good. I’m just going to shine a light in your eye, if you could follow my finger for me?”
You do as he says, hoping the quicker he’s done, the quicker you can find out what the hell happened.
“Do you remember what happened?”
“I went to the convenience store down the street and now I’m here. Wherever here is.” You say slowly, barely even hearing yourself from how hoarse your voice is.
“Ok,” he nods, looking you over, “we’ve done scans and we don’t think there’s any lasting damage. We were a little worried about your hearing but clearly, that’s fine. We need to keep you in for a couple more days and then you’ll need constant supervision for a week or so after that. But if you have no problems whilst you’re still here, I’ll be happy to discharge you in two days..”
“What happened though?” You try to sit up, but note once again that you can’t.
“Oh,” the doctor leans towards you, “you have a neck brace on, as I say you don’t have any lasting damage and no broken bones so if you can promise to make no sudden movements, I can take that off.”
“Take it off please.” You can’t stand feeling like you’re trapped.
“No problem,” he gently undoes it, “do you want the bed up a little?”
“Please,”
He presses the button on your bed and you slowly rise. But it’s as you’re edging further up, the room coming into view, you feel like someone's knocked all the air out of your lungs and you’d actually rather be lowered back down again. The last person you need to see is him. Dealing with Wonwoo will be bad enough.
“Do I have to sit up?” you try to ignore the two men sitting looking panicked, “I think actually I’d be better fully reclined,” you try to reach for the button but your arm feels like lead and you just wince, “don’t you think I’d be better lying down? Perhaps some sedatives to knock me out again? My head feels like it’s been hit by a bus.”
“It was a car.” Wonwoo says as he marches over to you, looking more pissed than you’ve ever seen him, “Don’t you ever fucking worry me like that again!”
He launches himself around you, your whole body aching from the impact of it and all you can do is pat his back gently, never having had a hug from Wonwoo. Apart from when his childhood cat died but he’d insisted that wasn’t a hug, it was just he needed a little help standing up.
“This is weird.” you mumble, still awkwardly patting his back.
“I don’t care. I thought you were dead, you moron.”
“Charming.” It's only then though that you realise what he said, “wait, I was hit by a car? I wasn’t drunk?”
“Why would you be drunk?” He pulls back, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“I was going to the convenience store. I was going to watch a film and get drunk,”
“Very classy.” He smirks, perching on the side of your bed. “You must’ve been on your way there though, you didn’t have anything with you as far as the paramedics were aware. The guy was speeding, the cops have arrested him but you don’t have to worry about that now. We came straight here when the emergency room called.”
“We?”
“Er,” Wonwoo stands up and shows you that the other man sitting in the corner of the room wasn’t a figment of your imagination. “Yeah, I was in Junhui’s office when I got the call. We both came straight here.”
“Why are you here?” You try to say it like his presence doesn’t bother you, like the last time you’d seen him hadn’t broken your heart.
“I wanted to check if you were ok.”
Hearing his voice makes you feel like it’s repairing a little of your broken body, just by how much comfort it brings you. But he said you were wrong, that this was all one sided and so you will yourself to stay strong.
“Well I am. You can go now.”
“_____.” Wonwoo says softly, “he’s not even been home since we got here two days ago. Even when I went to change and shower at home, he stayed with you.”
“I don’t care Wonwoo. You wouldn’t get it.”
“I know he’s a vampire.” He says bluntly.
You stare at him, your head now not only throbbing, but spinning.
“H-how? I mean,” you panic remembering the doctor who definitely shouldn’t be hearing this, “h-he doesn’t mean vampire. He’s not well, he’s a bit odd really, he just makes things up for……..”
“You don’t have to cover for him or Junhui. I’m Seungkwan.” He offers you his hand to shake.
And you do shake his hand, not that you can speak, your expression is more like a fish than anything else. Your mouth opening and closing with no clue of what to say now you’re confronted with yet another vampire.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Good.” You say stupidly, your brain really not firing on all cylinders, and thankfully Seungkwan just chuckles and takes a seat next to Junhui.
“How do you know he's a vampire?” You rush to ask.
“I went to ask……”
“Demand.” Junhui interrupts, smirking a little at the glare Wonwoo sends him.
“I went to ask what the hell had happened to you. He was the last one who’d seen you and you looked so upset when you left the office that day. And you’re so fucking stubborn, there’s no way you didn’t hear me banging on your door.” He scolds you.
“I wanted some alone time,” you sniff, “am I not allowed that?”
“You don’t have to cover for me. They both know what happened, how I lost control.” Junhui interrupts.
“I don’t care about you losing control. And I don’t want you here. I have enough friends, I don’t need another one.” The recollection of him telling you that this whole thing had been nothing more than friendship still leaves a sting in your heart and him being here just makes you feel fucking stupid all over again.
“_____ please,”
“I don’t understand why you’re here. Friends can go three months without seeing each other,” you try to mimic his voice even though yours is still croaky, “why even bother coming to the hospital?”
“Because I thought I’d lost you!” He stands up, voice pleading and tears threatening to fall.
“Have I shown you my espresso machine in my office Wonwoo?” Seungkwan gets up from his seat quickly.
“Er,” Wonwoo looks between you and Junhui, “no! But I’d love to see it! I love coffee!”
“Don’t you dare!” You try to shout after him as they both rush to the door, “Wonwoo come back here! You can’t just leave me like this!”
But it’s no use. They’ve gone. So much for caring about you, if they know how he lost control then it’s pretty shitty behaviour to leave your bruised body in his care. Though you’re not scared of him, not really. He couldn’t help his reaction to the blood and even though, yes you were terrified when you got home, that subsided pretty quickly. The only thing you really felt was embarrassed that he clearly didn’t feel the same as you. That you’d thought it safe that you were both on the same page and instead he just fobbed you off with that friends bullshit.
“I won’t hurt you.”
“Not physically maybe.” You try to avoid looking at him. “I’m alive. You can ease whatever guilty conscience you might’ve had and go home.”
“I’m sorry for what happened.”
You just hum and nod, not looking at him and sniffling as tears start to cascade slowly down your cheeks.
“I’m not normally like that around blood, I can normally control myself.”
“So this is somehow my blood’s fault?!”
“What? No! I was just trying to say that doesn’t normally happen, I’m not a……threat….like that, I guess.”
“I never thought you were. And I still don’t. So you can go. Tell Vernon I’ll get the first flight I can.”
“I’ve already sent someone else with him, not that he really needs anyone,”
“Right,” you scoff, “now I’ll be no trouble from my death bed, he conveniently doesn’t need anyone to babysit him.” You try to fold your arms but everything aches, which just makes you want to cry even more.
“I hate seeing you cry.” He says it before he can even stop himself, you can tell that much from the way he slightly panics that he’s said it. He’s always so certain in what he says, something you suppose comes from years of simply being alive and knowledge that comes with that.
“I’m trying not to.” You sniffle, trying to remain stoic but failing miserably.
This feels like the worst break up you’ve ever been through and yet it’s completely one sided according to him, just a friendship that technically doesn’t have to end. But you couldn’t keep spending time with him, every second you’ve already spent with him has taken a little of your heart as the clock ticked by. It would just hurt too much. You know it would.
“Please just go Junhui. I feel humiliated enough as it is and now I’ve literally been hit by a car, I don’t think I could get any more pathetic.” You pick at a stray piece of cotton on the blanket covering you, hoping he’ll just go quietly.
“I can’t,” he looks almost sheepish and you narrow your eyes at him, “you’re staying at my place for the week you need to be supervised.”
“WHAT?!” You try to sit up but your woozy head stops you and before you know it Junhui has you in his arms and he’s making sure you settle back on the bed. “You can’t,” you try to get your breath because somehow moving even the smallest amount has winded you, “you can’t just decide that.”
“I didn’t. Not on my own anyway. I mean, I suggested it and Seungkwan and Wonwoo agreed.”
“Oh well you should’ve said that sooner! You’ll let me know who I need to vote for in the next election and how you’d like me to have my hair cut won’t you! Chauvinistic shit heads.” You huff.
He scowls at you but you don’t care. How dare they just make decisions for you!
“Wonwoo says that Mingyu?” he checks the name of Wonwoo’s roommate with you, you begrudgingly nodding, “has taken up DJing so you couldn’t go there, him blasting music is hardly going to help a head injury. All your other friends, he said you’d hate staying with. And I’m told,” he smirks a little, “that you’d throw a fit if we told you that you had to go and stay with your parents.”
“No, I'm not having them fussing over me. Once they had me, they’d never let me leave. I love them but they would hyperventilate at the idea of having their baby back home, as they’d say. No.” You shake your head adamantly, ignoring the way it hurts, “I can’t go there.”
“Then sadly, the only option is my place.”
“Sadly? Fuck,” you huff sadly, “just let me go home. I’ll call Wonwoo if there’s any problems.”
“No,” he rushes to correct you, “I didn’t mean sadly for me. I meant for you. It was my idea for you to come to my place, even before Wonwoo gave us other options.”
“But you’ll be at work anyway. I may as well just go home. And I don’t want to be around you.”
You ignore the way his face drops at that.
“I swear I don’t usually lose control like that _____!”
“I don’t care if you show your fangs or threaten to bite me, I don’t give a fuck about that. I like you Junhui,” there’s no sense of beating about the bush, not in the circumstances, “and I think you know I do. And I get that you don’t see me as more than a friend but I don’t think I can be around you knowing that this whole thing has been so one sided. I was certain, so certain you felt the same and I feel like an idiot.” Your voice gets quieter as you trail off, your stomach in knots of embarrassment.
Junhui just wants to shake you and tell you that you’re like no woman he’s ever met, that he thinks, no he knows, you’re the love of his life. It’s breaking him that you think he doesn’t feel the same as you, but it’s the safest option for both of you. He knows it is.
“We don’t really have an option. You need someone to watch you, I’ve already told the office I won’t be in and I’ll stay out of your way if you want. I’ll give you a bell or something to ring in emergencies but other than that, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Or I could just go home.” You press again.
“Seungkwan won’t discharge you if he thinks you’ll be on your own. So unless you want to stay in the hospital, where I’ll be staying anyway if you’re here,” he says sternly, “then you’re staying at my place.”
“Fucking ridiculous.” You turn away and miss Junhui’s little smile when he realises you’ve given up the fight and he’ll be able to make sure you’re safe and cared for. Much to your disgust.
You knew you could be stubborn. In fact you were certain there were few people in this world more stubborn than you. But it turns out there is someone much more stubborn than you. Junhui. Because no matter how much you ignored him and no matter how much you pleaded with Wonwoo and even Seungkwan, who you didn’t even know, to come and stay at your place, then you wouldn’t need to go to Junhui’s, he still refused to leave your bedside. Even when he had to use the bathroom, he used the one supplied in your private room (the perks of knowing one of the top doctors in the hospital is a vampire) and whenever it came to food, he’d already ordered something to be delivered to the hospital.
Wonwoo would turn up around the time the food had been delivered and you all ate together like one big, slightly dysfunctional family. Junhui would try to talk to you, you’d insist on talking passively aggressively through Wonwoo who would then try and ignore you, and Seungkwan would simply sit and enjoy the drama of it all.
But now you’re two days into your stay at Junhui’s penthouse and your resolve is crumbling along with your heart. Because he truly is the most caring man you’ve ever met. Each morning before you wake up he creeps into your room and leaves your pain medication and a glass of water by your bed, makes sure you’ve got clean perfectly folded clothes to put on, takes your worn clothes and puts them in the laundry and he even brushed and dried your hair when it was too much for you to do. Even though you’d declared to him that you didn’t want his help and you’d happily got to bed with wet hair, he refused to leave the room until he knew it was done and you had no risk of catching a cold by going to bed with your hair wet.
He told you he’d stay out of your way and it seems he meant it. Because after he’s made sure you have everything you need and you’re safe, he heads to his home office and you don’t see him again until it’s time for your next meal or round of medication.
Which you guess is what you wanted. You told him you wanted nothing to do with him. But he’s so close and you find yourself pining for his attention, that you know he’d willingly give you if you hadn’t repeatedly told him you didn’t want him near you. It’s like there’s an invisible string between you, that you know isn’t broken, it’s holding on by a thread but it's not broken, and that’s what's making it so hard for you now.
By your third day at his apartment, you decide to swallow your pride and head to find him. You’re allowed to get out of bed, you’re not ill, but you just can’t do anything strenuous. Although, maybe putting your bruised ego to the side for the sake of being near the man you love would be classed as doing something somewhat strenuous.
You wander down the stairs, smiling at the slightly messy kitchen where he’d been trying to make you eggs this morning and move towards his office rehearsing what you’re going to say. Perhaps you could say you need something to read? But that won’t work, he’d left a pile of books by your bed along with his iPad in case there was anything you wanted to watch on it. He’d literally thought of everything you might need during your stay, proving once again that he’s nothing like the monster you saw the last time that you were in his actual office at work.
You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t realise you’ve been standing in his office doorway for a good thirty seconds until his worried voice breaks you out of your thoughts.
“Is everything ok?” He panics, you never having actively sought him out in the three days you’ve been here.
“Er, yeah. I’m….” he looks you over like he’s worried you’re in pain or something, “I’m lonely?”
“Oh,” he stands up straight, looking round for his phone, “do you want me to call Wonwoo? Or someone else?”
Fuck you feel horrible. You’ve made it so clear you don’t want him near you that now he doesn’t even think you would possibly mean that you want to spend time with him.
“No,” you shake your head, your voice quiet, “I could’ve just rung him myself. I wondered…..well I wondered if you wanted to watch a movie or something? Of course if you’re busy it’s fine.”
“I’d er,” he scratches his neck, “I’d like that. But before that……something came in yesterday that I had been meaning to show you. I had it shipped from my storage unit in Europe before we…..well before everything happened. I didn’t show you yesterday because I didn’t want to overstep but now you’re here, I’d really like to show you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s upstairs. I could show you now?” He asks softly, like he doesn’t want to make a mistake and scare you off.
You just nod and follow him quietly up the stairs. In the time you’ve spent together you’d never really had a quiet moment, from the second he entered your world it was like you both wanted to tell each other everything about your lives, no matter how big or small it was. And now there’s a void and you still don’t truly understand what caused it. One second it was the fine and the next he was sending you away.
He punches the codes in and you feel a warm feeling washes over, like being back in this room full of treasures somehow feels like home. It isn’t even the artefacts and tomes that make you feel that way, it’s being surrounded by Junhui’s life, everything that he treasures, just makes you feel closer to him than you could ever dream to be.
He leads you over to the large table in the centre of the room, papers scattered over it but a large metal box and book stand catch your eye.
“Please,” he gestures to the chair next to the one he’s just sat in, “sit down.”
“What is it?” You stare at the metal box as you sit next to him, not noticing how Junhui moves his chair just a little closer to yours.
“I’ve had these for about nine hundred years, it took me centuries to track them down but I finally did. I don’t look at them often because I don’t want to risk anything happening to them. But I wanted you to see them, she,” he smiles at the box, “she reminds me of you a little.”
“Who?” You narrow your eyes at him.
“You’ll see.” he smiles softly.
He opens the large metal box and you peer inside. You were expecting something large or impressive from the size of the box, maybe even a small bust of whoever it is that reminds him of you. But it’s just papers. Well. Parchments, ancient ones, but parchments none the less.
“Parcements?” You ask, confused how “she” can be on parchment paper.
“Have you ever heard of Sappho?” He smiles at the parchments as he gently takes them out of the box and places them on the book stand.
You rack your brain but short of a few short mentions at university, you really couldn’t say you’d heard of her.
“Vaguely,” you shake your head, marvelling at how old the pieces look in front of you, “but not really.”
He just nods, sending you another gentle smile and looks at the parchments you’re already lost in.
“She was a poet in Ancient Greece, hardly any of her writing survives, there’s probably about a hundred museums that would shoot me to get hold of these,” he chuckles, “but I always found her to be the most fascinating of all the ancient writers or poets.”
“Why?” You frown, wondering how she can be so much better than any of the ancient greats everyone in the world has heard of.
“Well, she’s a woman for one. Which in those times was unheard of for great poets or writers. But,” he sighs, leaning back in his seat, watching you and not looking at one of his most priced possessions. “She didn’t rely on myths or legends for her work. She lived in the real world, she wrote about love and feelings and what it was like to be passionately in love. By all accounts she was one of the strongest, most determined women of her time too.”
You stare at the parchment, you can’t read it, the writing is completely foreign to you but that doesn’t matter. The writing in front of you was by a woman in Ancient Greece. This parchment predates the whole modern era. Junhui had shown you a lot of things that would be considered old by anyone’s standards but this? Well this is on a completely different level to anything you could’ve ever dreamed of seeing with your own eyes.
“But?” You turn to him, dragging your eyes away from Sappho’s writing, “Why does she remind you of me?”
He doesn’t look at you, he now takes your place in staring at the parchment.
“She broke the mold. She lived a life of love and without prejudice. You know,” he smiles sadly, “she was married to a man who she loved with her whole heart and yet still explored the idea of being attracted to women in her poems. I’m not saying you are obviously, not that it’d matter if you were” he corrects himself, “but she didn’t hold prejudice against those who were attracted to the same sex. She didn’t hold prejudice against anyone from what I’m told, she was accepting and understanding. For a woman to be so forward thinking and to be heard was so underheard of,” he shakes his head completely lost in his own thoughts, “I guess you sort of reminded me of that. You found out about me, most people would have called me a freak or monster, and you were so accepting, so ready to give me a chance and see past what I am. Even in the hospital, although I’d already asked for these to be shipped, I don’t even think you realised you did it but even after I treated you so terribly, you still tried to cover for me when Wonwoo just blurted out that I’m a vampire.”
“Thank……” But you don’t get a chance to finish, it seems Junhui is so lost in thoughts that his subconscious is free flowing and nowhere near stopping.
“And if anything,” he smiles sadly as Sappho’s lost poems, “you remind me even more of her now. These poems, they’re about love. About how you feel when you’re in love, how your heart races, how you feel like you’re almost falling ill with something when you’re around the person you love so violently that your heart hurts. She celebrated love.” He nods to himself, “And she was brave enough to celebrate love. In all forms. No matter who it was. And that’s what you did, that day in my office when I tried to send you away. You were brave enough, just like Sappho, to stand there and tell me I was wrong and that you knew it was something way stronger than friendship.” A stray tear falls down his cheek as you desperately try to keep your composure, “You’re just like her. You’re strong and you’re a trailblazer who I’ve no doubt could run that company if they’d just let you. But you’re caring, you’re so willing to love, and love fully that you stood there in a room full of coldness and told a vampire that he was wrong to dismiss what was happening as friendship.”
Your heart is in your throat, feeling just how he’s just told you Sappho felt about love.
“A-are,” you swallow, trying to blink away tears, “are you saying I was right? That it wasn’t one sided?”
“I’ve lived almost two thousand years on this earth _____,” his eyes slowly find yours, “and I never felt this pull to someone. The need to be around someone all the time. I’ve loved people,” he nods, choosing to be honest, “but I’ve never felt like this. I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I was saving you by sending you away. But all I was doing was being fucking selfish.”
“What do you mean?” You frown, wanting to hold his hand but choosing to stay still, you don’t want to unsettle him further.
“I told myself it was for you. Because I’m a danger to you. But me denying my feelings was the only thing that put you in danger. Seungkwan thinks that’s what caused me to turn on you,” he clarifies, “the mixture of feelings I’d never had before and then that one drop of blood tipped it over the edge.”
“But how does that make you selfish?”
“If we did this. If we had a relationship. You’d grow old, it’s just the way the world is,” he shrugs, “and I don’t doubt I’d love you till your dying breath. I’d want you till your dying breath no matter how old you got. But what do I do then? When you’ve gone? I’d have to live for the rest of eternity knowing that I’d never see you again. Even if afterlives exist, I never die, I’d never see you there. I couldn’t cope with that _____. I couldn’t live knowing that I’d known the love of my life but only had her for a fraction of it.”
Your tears fall freely, his admission both fixing and breaking your heart all over again. He loves you, just as much as you love him. Or probably more. You’ve only lived thirty years and never left like this, he’s lived for thousands and says the same thing. Something you can’t quite get your head around but makes you feel more loved than you ever have. You know what you want to say, you want to say that he’s being ridiculous and he could simply change you. Which you know is reckless and ill thought out but you want nothing more than to spend an eternity with him.
“Does it not hurt more to throw it away when you know you have at least a chance to be with someone you love, even for a short time? If you walked away from this now, you’d always have what ifs, for the rest of time. If you gave us a chance, you’d have memories of the happy times at least? Surely that’s better?”
He stares at you, eyes shining from tears.
“I can’t throw it away now.” He tries to take a deep breath in a bid to stop his tears, “Even if you told me to fuck off, I don’t think I could. When Wonwoo got that phone call. I couldn’t cope, I couldn't leave you. I couldn’t lose you without you knowing that I love you with my whole heart. And when you came round all I could think about was how I didn’t want to waste a single second of your life on trying to push you away and ignore what you were brave enough to say was happening here all along.”
“So you’re saying?” You ask quietly. He’s been pretty clear but this is still the same man who told you that he’d never shown you any inclination it was more than friendship, he can’t blame you for checking.
“I’m saying,” he sniffles, wiping his cheek, “if you want to. I want to be with you. I want to know what it feels like to be in love. To freely love just like Sappho did. How you tried to before I stopped you.”
Your breath hitches with tears. Thank fuck you went to his office.
“I’d like that,” You smile through your tears, “I’d like that a lot.”
He reaches forward, his fingers gently moving your hair behind your ear and eyes searching yours.
“Thank you,” he whispers as his lips meet yours for the first time.
They’re cold, not like any other kiss that you’ve ever experienced but yet there’s a heat that comes with it, like kissing the person you love more than anyone is making you feel warmer than you ever have. It’s slow and heavy, like he’s showing you he’s got all the time in the world to love you. Your hands move to hold his cheeks and deepen the kiss but Junhui seems to be one stop ahead of you, he pulls you chair even closer and more or less pulls you onto him so you’re straddling his legs, your lips never stopping as you get your first proper taste of him. His tongue is warm unlike his lips and you can’t help but hold each other closer as your tongues explore each other’s mouths. You already know that you could never get bored of this feeling and thankfully Junhui has no intention of letting you go now he’s got you.
He does break the kiss though, smiling as he leans his forehand against yours, his hands holding your waist.
“I didn’t mean to do it like this. But once again you led the way when you came into my office. I’ve been sitting at that desk for days trying to figure out how to tell you.”
“I think Ancient Greek poetry was a pretty impressive way to declare you love me to be honest.” You tease, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Being a vampire has some perks,” he smiles at you, his fingers drawing patterns on your waist. “I meant what I said though. You’re like no-one I’ve ever met and I can’t promise we won’t have our struggles but knowing we’ll face them together means the world to me. And I need you to know that what happened that day in my office hasn’t happened in centuries and I hope it’ll never happen again. I’m fine around blood normally I swear.”
“I figured,” you shrug, “my period started yesterday and I’m still alive.”
The way you feel his laughter as well as see it sends a thrill through you. You’d always said Junhui was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen but now you need to correct that. Because Junhui laughing whilst he holds you close to him is definitely the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life. In this room full of treasures, he’s definitely the most precious you’ve had the honour to see.
The rest of your time spent recuperating at Junhui’s place passed by in a wave of him fussing over you trying to do too much every time you tried to put him out of his cooking misery, and gentle touches and promises of how you’d never let anything like this happen again. When he felt like it was all getting too much, or he felt like he was going to lose his cool, he’d tell you and you could find a way to work through it.
He also made it quite clear that he knew your period was starting the day before it actually started, apparently he can smell the change in your hormones or something and when it started, he could smell the blood. Something which made you panic that the smell was bad or in some way problematic for him. But he quickly put an end to that spiral though by asking did you think you were the only woman on her period he’d ever been around, which you suppose makes sense, he must sense every woman in the office’s period you suppose.
As the days passed, you just fell even more for your vampire boyfriend. He’d shyly asked you if you wanted to stay in his room with him, rather than his spare room. Neither of you were ready for anything more to happen than kissing or just simply holding each other, but he just wanted you close and you felt exactly the same way. On the first night in his room, he said he wanted to read you something. You presumed it was going to be some kind of romantic poem or excerpt from another lost ancient writer. But instead he confidently stood in front of the bed and began dramatically reading The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe to you, strange voices for all of the characters and everything.
It was only after he’d finished reading the first three chapters that he threw himself onto the bed with you and said that he just wanted to hear your laugh. That almost week of not hearing it, he said, had been the worst time of his life and he just wanted to hear it properly, before you both spent your first night holding each other. Something that made you want to giggle and kick your feet, but you remained composed. Sort of.
The whole time staying at his apartment felt like a dream and you’d think being back in your own apartment would feel like crashing back down to earth. And yet, it doesn’t. Because even as he helped you get settled back at your place, constantly saying that if you didn’t feel ready then he’d happily let you stay at his as long as you wanted, you knew that you’d never feel as low as you did when you ran out of the office. You had your whole future to look forward to and there was no sense in rushing things. You knew you loved each other and that was more than enough.
Two years later.
“It’s just a taste really, I don’t think you’d even really register any difference as long as you’ve had your blood for the day.” Seungkwan says casually as he fills up all your glasses.
“Just a taste?” Junhui scoffs at you, Seungkwan and Wonwoo as you all nod knowingly, “Why are you two nodding? Neither of you are vampires!”
“Because I’ve listened to Seungkwan and he knows these things.” You say, like Seungkwan is the wisest person you’ve ever met. “And Wonwoo has also listened. He’s great at listening, why do you think his ears are so big?”
“Hey fuck you!”
“You won’t be saying that to me when I’m a vampire.” You say matter of factly.
“And you won’t be becoming one if you use your advantage like that.”
You gawk at your boyfriend, disgusted that he’d say that to you, particularly in front of Wonwoo who’s looking more smug than you’ve ever seen him.
“I mean it _____,” Junhui says, taking a sip of his drink, “I’m already going against everything I believe in, if you’re going to use it over people, I won’t do it.”
“He’s not people, he’s Wonwoo,” you say, like it’s obvious. “And you know I’m not like that. We’ve been through this.”
“I know,” he sighs, scratching his eyebrow, “I’m just……..I still don’t know if I should do it. Maybe we should get Joshua to come over and do it. He’s the oldest. He’s turned people before. We could call him and he’ll be on a flight before we know it.”
“NO!” You interrupt, making Seungkwan jump and drop his food off his chopsticks, “I don’t want someone else to bite me. I want you to do it.”
“Oh this is disgusting, do I have to be here for this?” Wonwoo asks Seungkwan.
“Yes. You need to hear this as much as _____. You’re the one who’s insistent you want to become one too.”
“Childish.” You mumble to Wonwoo.
“Why should you get to see everything in the future and not me?”
“Because I fell in love with a vampire,” you narrow your eyes at him.
“I think you’ll find he loves me just as much. I’m like your brother, aren’t I Junhui?” He looks at your boyfriend hopefully, Junhui looking slightly panicked.
“I wouldn’t object to having you around.” He concedes much to your disgust. The last thing Wonwoo needs is his ego boosting.
“Oh well why don’t you spend eternity with him then,” you throw your napkin on the table dramatically, all of them knowing you’re joking. You’re too excited to be truly angry.
“Because,” he leans towards you, “I fell in love with you and you’ve somehow become so important that I can’t imagine any future without you. So sadly, you’re going to be stuck with me. Forever.”
“Dis-gusting.” Wonwoo says flatly as Junhui peppers tiny kisses on your lips and you giggle into them.
“So it’s just a taste,” Seungkwan carries on once he’s given your sickly pda enough time to come to an end, “you need to take enough blood that her blood sort of panics, in simple terms, her body needs to panic and take on your dna to keep itself alive. It’s a fine line and it’ll be quick, a bite and you only need a couple of mouth fulls for it to be done. Anymore and…….”
“Anymore,” Junhui interrupts, “and I kill the love of my life.”
The table falls quiet at that.
About a month ago when you turned 32, you brought up the subject of Junhui changing you, you wanted him to do it and you wanted him to do it whilst you still looked like you. It may be vain but you don’t want to be an old lady and he finally decides to do it.
It wasn’t a shock to him and to be honest, he’d been thinking about the same thing. Your two years together had shown you two things, that you loved each other like you didn’t think was possible and that Junhui was going to struggle to go on once you’d left this world. You’d gotten the impression he was thinking about it when he spent hours talking to Pearl and Soonyoung on the phone. They’re the only other vampires alive that had been through this and you couldn’t see any other reason that he’d be talking to them so much more than normal.
You hadn’t gone into it blindly. You knew you’d have to distance yourself from your parents a little as you got older but Junhui said with skincare and things the way they are now, you could probably get away with not cutting them out completely. They wouldn’t really be able to tell you weren’t aging all that much. And you’d have to move around every few decades but that didn’t matter, as long as you were together. You couldn’t see any logical reason for him to not turn you.
Junhui had resisted doing it himself, even when he’d gotten his head around the fact that in taking your mortal life, he was giving you both an eternal life together. He’d stopped seeing it as murder, like he’d spent a lot of his life doing, because he knew that you’d still be you. You’d still have the same personality, the same looks, even the same preferences in food and literature, you’d just have reflexes like the speed of light and everything else that came with being a vampire.
Seungkwan and Junhui had been meticulous in their research and planning for the days after he’d turned you. They found enough evidence to suggest that if they doubled the amount of blood that they both have daily, your thirst should be satiated enough that you won’t have the urge to bite anybody. They’d both taken two weeks off work and they were going to monitor you, gradually allowing you near more and more people the more your body adjusted to the change, until you were able to function normally in society just like them.
It didn’t stop Junhui’s worries though but you loved that he was up front about them. He didn’t want to hide any part of himself from you and that included the uncomfortable truth, that the main thing he was scared of was killing you. It wasn’t that he didn’t drink enough blood daily, it was more that he hasn’t had that thrill of fresh blood from the source in centuries. And, if their research is anything to go by, the blood of someone you love tastes even sweeter than that of any other human being. He knew he could resist, he’d realised in your time together that you’re one of the clumsiest people he’s ever met, he’s cleaned up cuts and grazes and never had an issue. But drinking it? When you’re willingly giving it? He was scared. And you all knew it.
“You’ve got this Junhui. I know you have. As you do it, just think of the fact that you never have to say goodbye, that if you don’t stop when you need to, you lose everything. That should be all you need to not lose yourself.” Seungkwan says kindly.
“And let's not forget _____’s self defence classes, she’ll fight you off.” Wonwoo jokes, knowing exactly how to bring everyone back from worrying.
“Hey. I have a mean right hook.” You say, flexing your nonexistent muscles.
“It’ll be fine Junhui. And I’ll come by first thing in the morning with the blood.”
“When do I get turned?”
“When I can be bothered.” Seungkwan dismisses Wonwoo and goes back to finishing his dinner.
You and Junhui smile at each other as your friends bicker, knowing that after tonight, you’ll never have to worry about losing each other ever again.
“I thought,” you mumble against Junhui’s lips as he keeps kissing you, “that you were turning me.”
“I am,” he says against your skin as his lips move down your neck, “but I just wanted to show human _____ how much I love her, one last time.”
His soft lips travel down your body, kissing every bit of skin they come into contact with, like he wants to make sure he’s touched every miniscule part of you before he finally grants your wish. Every tiny peck makes your body feel like it’s on fire and all you can do is lie back on your shared bed, both of you naked, and relish the way he’s worshipping your body.
“How are you so perfect?” He whispers as he takes your nipple gently into his mouth, humming around it as he sucks gently.
You’d had sex. You’ve had a lot of sex in your two years together. But this feels different, this feels like you’re giving yourselves to each other, to be naked and bare to each other as he takes your mortal life away and renews it with his unkillable DNA feels like a new birth. It’s possibly the most intimate you’ve ever felt, you’re just two people about to do something that will change your lives for eternity. In all the years you’ll spend with each other after this, no matter how the world changes and whatever life throws at you, this will always stay the same. How it all started, both of you feeling each other in your purest most honest forms, will always feel like this. You’ll always have each other, you’ll always be able to have each other like this.
His lips leave your nipple, his tongue licking a soft line between the valley of your breasts until he finds your untouched nipple, his lips wrapping around it softly and savouring the feeling of it in his mouth just as much as he had done your other one. Your hands run through his hair, your eyes closed in pleasure as you sigh at the feeling over him sucking your pebbled nipple. No-one has ever made you feel like this, so beautiful, so wanted. He’s seen hundreds of bodies in his life and yet every time he sees, or feels or tastes yours, it’s like he’s in awe of you, like he can’t get over how stunning you are and that you love him as much as he loves you.
“I love you,” he hums as his lips move lower and lower, trailing down your stomach, even stopping at your belly button and giving that a little kiss because he knows the ticklish feeling would make you giggle.
“I love you too,” you giggle as his lips travel painfully close to your pussy.
You can’t even be annoyed when he bypasses it entirely, you know once he gets a taste of you, he won’t be able to stop. The man has spent hours with his head between your thighs and you both know that he doesn’t stop until you physically can’t take anymore. So he can’t get sidetracked by your perfect pussy because he’s not finished showing the rest of your body the same amount of love as he’s already shown your upper half. His kisses turn wet as he kisses your thighs, your body twitching a little when his hair brushes past your pussy when he kisses the inside of your thighs.
“I don’t know,” he mumbles as his lips move down your legs, kissing every where he comes into contact with, “how I got so lucky to find someone as fucking exquisite as you after all this time.”
He dodges your feet after he places a gentle kiss on one and you laugh, almost ruining his little monologue. Not that he minds, your laugh has become his favourite sound in the world and one that he can’t wait to hear forever more. But clearly your feet are out of bounds if he doesn’t want you rolling around laughing and so he makes his way back up your legs, savouring the way your soft skin feels against his lips, his tongue occasionally popping out too because any part of you tastes divine to him and he can’t resist.
Junhui glances up at you as he reaches your pussy once again but instead of moving back up your body, he dots featherlight kisses all over you, over your folds, over the inside of your thighs, everywhere he can to show you just how much he loves you. His left hand takes yours in his whilst his other hand gently opens you up for him, his eyes shining in love as he kisses your clit, the feeling making you moan a little as his lips kiss their way down to your leaking entrance.
“So pretty,” he kitten licks your hole, tasting you straight from the source, “I can’t believe I get to spend eternity with you. All mine, to taste, to savour, to worship.” He licks a long stripe back up to your clit, your hand squeezing his from how good it feels.
His lips suck gently on your clit, your hips bucking a little from the pleasure it sends shooting through your body.
“Do you think every part of you tastes good darling?” He must feel the way you twitch at that because you feel his smirk disrupt his sucking on your clit he’d gone back to doing.
You’d told him just how much the idea of him biting you excited you, you’ve no idea why, you think it’s because it’s something nobody has ever done. It’s something so forbidden that for him to do it, to bite you and to taste your blood, it makes this whole thing even more erotic. You’d spoken about tonight, you’d told him that you wanted to feel him bite you just once before he actually bites you properly. You know you’re risking a lot and you’re amazed he agreed, if Seungkwan found out, he’d be furious. “Just one bite and just a taste.” But you want to know how good the pain feels and see the effect your blood has on him before you’re too lost in changing into a vampire that you don’t see anything at all.
“You’re such a dirty girl ______. It’s pretty perverse to want to see the effect you have on me like that. But,” he licks your pussy again, humming at the taste of your fresh wave of arousal, “I’d give you anything darling, I’d give you the whole fucking world if I could.”
He licks one more time before his tongue carries on up along your stomach and wraps around one of your nipples again.
“Fuck!” He makes you jump when suddenly drops your nipple and shouts, “I love you so fucking much.” He says through gritted teeth, your heart pounding and pussy clenching when, for the first time in two years, he looks up at you and you see those red eyes and pearlescent fangs that you saw once before in his office.
“You think you can just tell me that you want me to taste you, all of you, and I wouldn’t say yes?” his teeth scratch along your skin softly, just above where your heart is pounding.
You try your best not to squirm but you can’t help it, you’re not doing it out of fear, you’re doing it because of the threat of him sinking his teeth into you at any given moment. The thrill of that expectant pain only makes you drip more than you ever have for him.
His fingers trail down your stomach as his teeth pause in their scratching, weighing just a little heavier on your skin and making your body pause in anticipation. But he doesn’t do anything with his teeth. His fingers however plunge into your aching hole, making you arch in pleasure at the sudden stretch of his two fingers and your skin, that his teeth were already resting on, ripple the skin, perilously close to breaking it but somehow not.
“Look how wet you are just at the thought of me tasting your blood, I never knew you were such a pervert darling,” he mutters against your skin, his fingers dragging against your gummy walls and hitting your g spot tantalisingly.
You can’t respond to him, you’re too lost in pleasure and the idea that you’re totally in his care. Your whole body is his to do with as he pleases and if one thing goes wrong, you’re done for. You trust him, you trust him with your life or what you’ll have left of it after this, but it’s the temptation that he’ll have and danger that comes with it. It’s warped, but the idea that he is going to be so drunk on you when he tastes you, that you’ll be giving him so much pleasure in ways no other woman ever has during sex, is sending you a little crazy.
His fingers hammer in and out of you, the sounds of your sopping pussy and moans that your body doesn’t seem to want to fully release as you wait for him to taste you, filling the room. You’re close, you’re so close and he knows it. He knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows every twitch and every tiny response you have to him and so he knows from the little pattern of clenches your pussy is making around his long fingers, that it won’t be long until you come undone around them.
It’s because he knows you so well, knows what you want from him, that just as your high is about to it, he sinks his fangs into you just enough that it punctures your skin.
“Fuck,” you cry, your pussy trembling around his fingers just as much as the rest of your body is as the pain of him biting you and drawing blood mixes with the pleasure coursing through your body from the greatest orgasm of your life. You feel like you’re floating, your whole body filled with electricity as you writhe and cry beneath him, gripping his body and riding his fingers to see you through your orgasm.
When you open your eyes and blink Junhui into focus, the sight makes your blood run cold. Yet you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your pussy clench painfully in overstimulation.
He stares at you, eyes glistening red and fangs dripping in your blood. The bite has already healed, the dull pain of it and your blood in his mouth being the only reminder that he’d bitten you, as he takes his fingers from inside you and licks your essence off them, the taste of your blood and your cum mixing together and creating something that Junhui has never experienced in all his years of living. It’s like the ultimate delicacy and it stirs something almost animalistic in him. You’re his. You are totally and utterly his and that taste just solidifies it. It’s like it's imprinted something in him that you won’t ever be able to take away, not that he’d ever want you to.
The blood drips from his fangs onto your breasts and you both look down at it, knowing exactly what he’s going to do even as more blood drips down onto the purity of your skin. His tongue darts out and he licks every last drop that’s fallen, his tongue getting more and more frantic the more he tastes. And you’ve never felt more desired, more totally beholding to someone than you have in your entire life. He hums into the taste and if you couldn’t feel his fangs drag against your nipple as he was licking your blood from your breasts, you’d think he was back to your usual caring Junhui.
But when he’s cleaned everything off you, your skin a little pink from how he’s spread the remains of blood over you when he licked it off, and he looks into your eyes. Reality hits you. He looks at your untarnished neck, his red eyes shining a little brighter at the prospect of what’s about to happen and you know that this is it. Your mortal life is going to end and you’ll have the privilege that every other person doesn’t get, you’ll get to spend eternity with the man you love. Both of you seeing the wonders the world has to offer now and the wonders that are yet to come.
You know your Junhui is still there, he isn’t so lost in the taste of you or his desires that he’s totally left you, because he nods just a little, silently asking you if you’re ready for this.
“I love you Junhui. I want forever with you.”
His breath hitches, he takes in your naked body and moves to hover over you, his body resting against yours, skin to skin as he holds your hands above your head.
He places one last gentle kiss to your mortal lips, whispering a gentle “I love you too.” against them before he moves his lips down along your jaw and onto your neck.
His lips stop and it’s like your world stops with it. You take one last deep breath in and as you breathe out, you feel his fangs sink into your neck much harder than they had during that first bite. It hurts. It’s the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced but Junhui’s hands squeeze yours letting you know he’s still yours, he hasn’t become the monster that could kill you as he gently sucks on your neck. It isn’t like when someone sucks a love bite onto your neck, with each tiny suck it sinks his fangs even further into your skin and makes you sob just that little harder from the added pain.
But the pain is the last thing on your mind. You feel his DNA running through your veins, overtaking the DNA that makes you human and changing you into something colder, something more primal. You feel cold, colder than you ever have and yet you feel more alive than ever. Like as more of his DNA courses through you, the stronger your body feels like it’s getting, like you could take on a whole stampede of rhinos and come out the victor.
He yanks himself away from you, his body shaking and convulsing like everything in him is telling him to carry on, to get his fill of you until you’re dead. But he can’t do that. He won’t. You’re his _____ and he knows if he doesn’t stop now, he never will. He kneels back, still holding one of your hands but drawing away enough to allow the bite enough time to heal and the temptation to keep biting to heal along with it. He strokes your waist with his free hand and waits for you to come round, hoping he hasn’t drawn too much blood from you, as you gasp for breath and shake a little on the bed, your body trying to fight his DNA off yet cling to it to keep you alive.
“Come on _____,” he whispers, looking at you with wide eyes that are now completely devoid of any red, your Junhui well and truly back. But he just wants to make sure that you’re back and to be honest, he’s starting to panic. “Please darling, come on. We’ve got this, we can do this,”
His hand keeps stroking your waist and if he was a little less panicked he’d feel that you’re squeezing his hand, trying to show him that you’re still there and your body is just trying to catch up with what’s happened.
“My love?” He lunges forward when your eyes blink open, the wound on your neck healing completely as you do. “_____ are you with me?”
He startles a little when you open your eyes and red ones stare back at him.
“What?” You mumble, not liking the look of slight horror on his face.
“Nothing,” he shakes off the shock, “I just forgot your eyes would be red until you have your first blood, that’s all. Are you ok? You feel ok?”
“I feel fantastic,” you smile, “like I could fight someone and actually win.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs, “that’ll wear off in an hour or so. Come on, let's get you washed and changed then you can sleep it off before Seungkwan comes with the blood.”
“Hold on,” you pull his hand as you sit up, both of you face to face, “thank you for doing this. I know it took a lot and I know you hated it. Just….thank you. And I love you.”
“I love you too.” he says, kissing your lips and noting it doesn’t feel much different from kissing your human lips. “Come on,” he stands up and scoops you into his arms, smiling at how you laugh at his antics and realising this has really changed nothing other than you get to spend your whole life together.
“There was one more thing I needed to tell you about all this.”
“What,” you frown as he places you on the bathroom counter and sets the bath running, “if you’re about to tell me some awful thing about being a vampire that you kept to yourself, I’ll kill you Junhui.”
“Yeah, I’d like to see you try newbie.” You quirks his brow at you. “And it’s not that. You know how Wonwoo wanted turning too?”
“Yeah?” You say slowly, not really liking where this is going.
“Well. When Seungkwan brings the blood in the morning. He’s also bringing Wonwoo. Because you’ll both be needing that blood……..” he waits for you to realise what this means.
“I HAVE TO SPEND TWO WEEKS LOCKED IN THIS APARTMENT WITH FUCKING WONWOO?!”
He dodges the toilet roll you aim at his head, though only just now your reflexes match his, but can’t help but laugh as you berate him. All he can think as he adds bubbles to your bath is how lucky he is that you walked into his office and caught him drinking blood. If you hadn’t, he’d never be here now. Being shouted at by the love of his life and looking forward to an eternity of this chaos that he’s grown to love so much.
: ̗̀➛ synopsis: Jun has been your best friend for years but you never knew that he’s actually been obsessed with you this whole time. Until he sends you a sudden nude whilst away in China which changes the dynamic.
You have always been lucky. You might not be crazy rich, or strikingly pretty, but you truly have the best friend in the world. Wen Junhui.
It's the times when you have him blowing up your phone when you don't reply, cooking chinese food when your stomach rumbles and the pair of pink slippers nustled into his hallway designated for you that make you realise that no man will ever live up to him.
He has been exceeding your expectations since the night you met him. The night your friend ditched you at the club for some dick, leaving you, in flawless makeup and an outfit you had been planning for days somehow contemplating going home.
Purse in hand, you caught sight of a him cutting through the crowd —suspiciously good looking and his smile reeking of "Are you open-minded?". You gripped the strap tighter, breath stalling, but instead of trying to get you drunk or onto the dance floor, he stayed beside you all night.
Since then, Jun had been at every birthday party, been through every breakup and been by your side through every moment you needed him — he's your constant. The one who will always stay.
Never once has a single hint of hesitation hit you when telling him all your worries. All the times you used to be crying on your bed, gut clenched at the realisation you had no one to talk to now couldn't feel like a more distant memory.
Chest tightening, you remind yourself not to take him for granted. Although, he certainly likes to make it difficult when he abandons everything for your needs. Like that time he skipped dance practice so you could have a sleepover the night your ex broke up with you.
Looking around at your empty room, you tuck away your pink slippers into your highest cupboard. They look far too lonely when they aren't in his apartment, accompanied by his grey pair. You yank at your charger, expecting a reply, only to be left with another painful reminder of his busy schedule.
Three months into his filming in China, and you're certain you are one minor inconvenience away from insanity.
You’d be lying if you said you didn't have moments — close calls. His hands brushing yours. Lingering looks. Him wiping your tears with his shirt sleeve.
But you would never dare to cross the line.
You couldn't. He’s your best friend. Always has been. What would you do if it fucks things up?
However, Jun percieves you differently.
After years of being friends, it became impossible for him to keep seeing you not getting treated how you deserved. You'd be happier with him. How could you not see this?
Every time he comforts you, every sleepover you have, every tear he wipes from your cheek, the urge swells. At first it was his desire to comfort you— to love you. But it's rotted into something darker, something dirtier gnawing at him from the inside.
It's a quiet obsession that he isn't exactly proud of, yet he can't deny it. He especially can't deny it at times when you're curled up on his lap wearing his hoodie with those tiny fucking shorts you love. His dick pressing against his zipper as he excuses himself to the bathroom to take care of it.
But the last thing he wants is to make you feel uncomfortable or to push your boundaries and lose you forever.
So every memory becomes a part of his private folder. He saves voicenotes of you saying his name, photos of you sleeping beside him, even screenshots of times you were being accidentally flirty over text.
He reassures himself that it's just a way to keep himself controlled, that he needs an output for his desires, but even he is aware of how much he's slipping into his fantasy rather than the reality that could shatter if he moves too fast.
And now that he hasn't seen you in three months, he's spiralling. He thinks about you constantly, reading your texts over and over whilst he's on set. He thinks about how soft your skin must be, his cock getting harder from just imagining the feel of you in his arms again.
He predicted this might be the case when he left for China so he did something new. It was always a fantasy he dared not to admit. But he had no choice when he stayed round yours for the final sleepover. Each deep, rhythmic breath of yours coaxing his eyes to your underwear drawer.
Jun now laid on his bed. His figure adorned only his grey sweatpants and a pair of your white lace panties in his grasp.
You, however, were at Mingyu and Wonwoo's place. They were two friends Jun introduced you to recently as he instructed them to look after you whilst he was gone.
You were now curled up on their couch, phone balancing on your stomach, half-waiting for Jun to reply to your last message.
The three of you had fallen into a routine by now: Mingyu cooking too much, Wonwoo gaming on call, and you sneaking photos to send to Jun like you were documenting your survival.
It wasn’t the same without him. Mingyu and Wonwoo were sweet, loud, and distracting — but they weren’t Jun.
With the silence from your phone beginning to get nauseatingly loud, you snap a quick selfie to Jun, silently hoping it will prompt a faster response.
It's a simple photo — you, Jun's hoodie pooling at your waist, watching tv with Mingyu on their couch.
Grinning to yourself, you caption the selfie, 'bet you miss me more than i miss you' and hit send.
Jun didn’t mean to open it while he was half-hard, shirtless and lazy on his bed… but now he couldn’t stop staring.
Grip tightening on his phone, he looks back to your panties laced within his hand, mentally piecing the sight together with your selfie — the formed image driving himself insane. His hand instinctively reaches for his cock, carelessly pulling it out of his sweats as if it was routine.
He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help himself when he was this hard. He zoomed in on your neck, mind wandering to how soft your skin is there. Thinking about how much he wants to grab it and hold you down. Letting his hand trail over his sensitive tip, he hums in pleasure as he lets his head roll back.
Fueled by his ache, he lets the soft, pure fabric meet his dick, wiping his precum, not realising how far this would lead him. The contact with his cock and your panties made him twitch, imagining how you'd look in them— how you'd look in them beneath him.
Jaw tightening and head spiralling, the realisation that he can't escape this situation hits him. Yet, he doesn't fight it. He knows better than to fight it when he can feel his hunger surging with every bead of sweat accumulating on his forehead.
His cock twitches further into your panties and before he can process his actions, he's got them wrapped around the base.
The hotel room is cold, nothing like the view on his bed. His abs gleam with a thin sheen of sweat, sweatpants sitting low enough to reveal the girth of his cock, partially veiled by your damp underwear.
He's far too deep in the fantasy, far too deep for any critical thinking, his mind only containing you and his need for you to finally acknowledge him in the way he craves.
Pulling out his phone, with his brain barely present, Jun snaps a photo as a response to yours. The only difference being that his photo back contains his dick wrapped up in your panties.
It comes with no warning. The innocent notification buzzing against your stomach like a hug, fooling you into a sense of comfort.
You opened the message expecting a selfie. Instead, it was him. Hard. With panties—your panties, looped around the base.
Oh my god. That’s yours — that’s your underwear wrapped around his cock like some kind of trophy.
And he knows. He fucking knows you’re looking at it. He wants you to look at it. Wants you to see how hard he is for you, even when he’s not here. You can’t breathe.
Now you’re in Mingyu’s bathroom, phone shaking in your hands, thighs pressed tight together like that’ll help anything. What the fuck does this mean?
You build up the courage and face the image again, drinking in the view. His dick— your best friend Junhui's dick. You couldn't help but notice every detail.
Your phone showed every vein, it showed just how hard he was.. for you. And without warning, it was now seared into your memory.
Yet you didn't mind it.
You didn't mind the thought of Jun, thick, flushed and twitching into your panties that he must have stolen from you.
And the thought of what is happening outside the image, him in that hotel room with his hand wrapped around himself, panting your name whilst jerking his cock into your underwear.
Palms sweating, you notice the slight v-lines visible in the corner of the image causing your to almost choke on your saliva.
This only lead you to imagine his face— fuck, that pretty face. Probably just as flushed as his tip.
You catch a quick glimpse of your reflection in the bathroom mirror, your state mirroring your imagination of Jun in this current moment.
Your face flushed a bright rosy shade and the stark light above you making you feel far too exposed, yet also lighting up the image on your phone as if it's going to burn through your retinas— or maybe that's just due to your staring.
Around you, you can still hear the muffled sound of Mingyu and Wonwoo discussing the TV, yet with every beat of your heart increasing in volume, and your breath slowly getting heavier, it became much easier to ignore.
Was it a mistake? But fuck, what if it wasn't?
Either way, you can't deny the fact that it's your panties he stole. And it's your panties he's jerking off with.
That thought alone makes your breath shallow, hitched and humiliatingly loud.
With your hands tightening around your phone screen, you open your messages, yet you can't manage to type. Your trembling fingers hover over the keyboard as if they are haunting it.
Looking down, you view the picture again, heat Instantly spreading through your chest, the sensation travelling down your stomach.. and lower.
You couldn't stop staring, thoughtlessly imagining the heat spreading through your body was his touch. That his long, slender fingers were the ones carresing your inner thighs and the dizziness you felt was from him yanking your head back.
You had to collect your thoughts — your emotions.
Finally, you typed
You: 'Did you mean to send that to me?'
Every second that passes feels like torture. Your body and mind unable to cope with the perverse thoughts of what could be taking him so long.
Jun is lying in his hotel bed, half watching some random chinese tv show. His free hand tracing a lazy trail down his stomach, fingers slipping just under his waistband. He isn't exactly paying much attention to any of it though. In his eyes, you are the only thing that matters. The phone buzzes and he leans up, seeing your response. Jun pauses, considering his response.
Buzz
Jun's name lights up your screen. You don't touch it right away. Your chest tight, breath stalling as you almost drop your phone when you scramble to read his reply.
Jun: 'Yes.'
That's it? What's up with him.? You bring your knees up onto the closed toilet lid where you are sitting, your mind completely blank yet still full of questions. But aside your curiousity, your stomach stirs and your thighs rub together.
You are left with only one word as your solution.
You: 'Why?'
Jun shifts, pulling his hand from his waist. He sits up, the blanket bunching at his hips. He types, licking his bottom lip, considering his response. How was he supposed to tell you the truth? That he was obsessed?
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
His response was faster this time.
Jun: 'Was thinking about you'
'Wanted you to see it'
'To see how much I miss you'
Your knees weaken. Your breath gets heavier. Is this really happening? You don't even think before replying.
You: 'You're insane. I'm at Mingyu and Wonwoo's!'
Jun chuckles, shifting to lay back against the headboard, resting the phone against his chest.
Jun: 'Then be quiet for me.'
You stare at the message for a moment. Your skin tingling with heat as you subconsciously fan yourself. Biting your lip, you look back at the photo he sent before responding.
You: 'In the photo.. is that mine?'
A smirk curves Jun's lips as he reads your reply. His thumb tracing along the bare skin of his hip.
Jun: 'You're smart enough to figure that out'
'I bet they look better on you'
Your stomach flips at his words. It's a tone you've never heard from him before and it feels as though every thing he says sends a signal straight through your body.
You: 'What were you thinking!?'
His reply is instant.
Jun: 'Are you really that desperate to know what I was thinking about with your panties wrapped around my hard dick, hm?'
'Isn't it obvious?'
Jun pauses to think about what was on his mind. The image of you in those exact panties had been burned behind his eyelids. He'd been thinking about it nonstop for days at this point. He couldn't get you out of his system.
Jun: 'I've been thinking about you'
'About what I'd do if you were here'
Your thumb hovers over the keyboard. You type something back but delete it. Your heart beat becoming the only distinguishable sound over the hesitant tap of your typing.
You: 'Tell me'
Again, he replies almost instantly. As if he'd ridden this train of thought a hundred times before.
Jun:'I’d have you on your knees right now'
'I’d pull your hair back so I could see your face'
Jun's hand curls around his length, squeezing. It's a poor, poor replacement for what he really wants. He closes his eyes, his mind already creating a picture, just picturing you there with him, all to himself.
Jun: 'I'd make you open your mouth for me.'
'I wouldn’t stop until you were a mess.'
'Then I’d use my tongue, my fingers, my dick. I'd make you feel so good.'
You close your eyes and picture it. Your legs feel restless. You rub your thighs together desperately in a pathetic attempt to ease your need for any kind of friction.
Steps faltering, you stumble your way to unlocking the bathroom door. Relief floods you, both Mingyu and Wonwoo are asleep in their rooms — unaware.
As if he could sense your movements, your phone starts ringing. Sharp against the counter, sudden enough to make your heart skip.
It’s him.
Your fingers hover over the screen. Breath catches. A pulse races through your chest, slowing only when you finally swipe to answer.
“Hey,” his voice hums through the line, low and deliberate, like he’s already inside your head.
His voice sounds soft and deep, that tone which you have been missing. It had been far too long since you have heard it.
In any other scenario, your body would instinctively relax upon hearing this voice, however when surrounded by the fluorescent confines of this bathroom, with your underwear soaked and mind blank, your body can't help but tense.
You manage to catch your pacing breath and choke out a weak, "Hi.." into the phone. Your voice sounding much weaker and inferior against the weight of his baritone.
"Are you alone?" His voice trembled slightly, like he was holding back.
Your thighs clench at the sound. Too shy to respond, you nod in response before remembering he can't see you. "I am.."
There’s a pause, and it’s like you can feel him leaning closer, teasingly close.
"Good. Sounds like your still in the bathroom. How about you make your way to their guest room, hm?"
Your skin prickles as if he was really next to you, as if he's in your ear, breath sliding down your throat. Without thinking, you follow his command, allowing the sound of your footsteps to act a signal of your obedience to him.
"I'm laying in the bed now.."
Jun brought your soft lace towards his face and breathed in your scent, although he's been doing it for so long it's started to fade. That doesn't stop him from pulling out his aching cock again, still wet with precum.
"Following my orders, already? How about a second one?"
"What is it?
He is fully fisting his cock now, aware that the sounds must be escaping into your phone speaker yet unable to stop himself upon hearing your voice.
"You're okay with this, right?" "Fuck, please say you are."
You can practically hear his brows knitting together through his voice. God, you wish you could see him pleading for you like this.
"I promise, what's the second order?"
Jun then slides your panties to his lower face and licks a determined stripe along the fabric, letting out a disgusting whine before speaking.
"Be good and let me hear how wet you are."
Your fingers teased with the hem of your panties, as your grinded up into the fabric. That wasn't enough — so you let the pad of your finger slide down the length of your wet cunt.
Jun’s breath hitched, a sharp groan slipping out as he bucked his hips up into his fist, ruined already by the slick sounds you were making for him.
"Does it scare you how much you want this?" Jun's voice is low, strained but authentic.
"It scares me just as much as it excites me." Your words are promptly silenced by a moan as you let a single finger slip past your folds.
Jun takes your panties and threads them back around his cock, fucking the fabric with deep thrusts, his mind only centered around how much better you'd feel.
You can hear the sound of his slick fist through the speaker, wet and obscene, mixing with his low groans. Your back arches instinctively against the hard mattress, your legs spreading wider as you circle your clit with trembling fingers.
“Jun-” you gasp his name, your voice high and shaky.
He groans at the sound, almost guttural. “Fuck, say it again. Say my name like that.”
You do, over and over, until you’re whining it like a chant. No longer giving a fuck if Mingyu or Wonwoo hear.
“I want to be inside you so bad,” he mutters, voice strained and heavy with lust. “I want to feel you clench around me. I bet you’d be so tight—so wet. You’d take me so good, baby.”
Your body reacts before your brain catches up, your fingers pushing inside yourself. The sharp stretch makes you cry out.
Jun hisses. “Fuck, are you touching yourself for me? Are you fucking yourself while I’m not there?”
“Yes. Yes, Jun,” you admit, your voice breaking on his name.
The sound he makes in return is dangerous, deep and ruined. “Good girl. That’s my good girl. Pretend it’s me. Pretend it’s my cock stretching you open.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, doing exactly that. Pretending it’s him. Pretending his weight is pinning you down. Pretending his voice is spilling into your ear instead of through your phone.
“I’d make you beg for it,” Jun growls. “I’d make you beg for my cock before I even let you have it.”
Your thighs shake at his words. You fuck your fingers into yourself harder, sloppier, chasing the sensation.
“Jun please,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for.
He chuckles, dark and dirty. “That’s it. Keep begging. You sound so sweet when you’re desperate for me.”
The noises on his end get faster, more frantic, the sound of his hand gliding over his cock sharp in your ear. You can picture him perfectly. His head tilted back, face flushed, his pretty mouth parted as he ruins himself with your underwear.
“I’m close,” you whisper, your voice nearly breaking.
His reply is instant. “Cum for me. Cum with me. Need to hear how good my voice makes you feel.”
Your climax hits you hard, blinding, as your back arches off the bed. You’re gasping his name like a prayer, holding the phone tight against your ear as if that’ll make him closer.
Jun follows seconds later. His breath stutters, a low moan spilling out of him as he finishes into your panties, his voice so raw and disgusting you know you’ll never forget it.
There’s silence afterward, save for both of you catching your breath.
Finally, his voice cuts through the silence, soft and shaky: “...fuck. I wish you were here.”
