#seventeen lee chan au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitchlessdino · 8 months

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scream your heart out (m)

🔪pairing: fem!reader x seventeen (???) 🔪genre: horror, slasher, smut 🔪tags: DISCLAIMIER!!! MAY NOT SUIT MOST AUDIENCES, Graphic sexual and violent imagery color coded in pink, abrupt changes in text color, features/mentions members (Chan, Seungkwan, Wonwoo, Minghao, Seungcheol, Seokmin, Junhui, Soonyoung, Joshua), established relationships, scream au!seventeen, Hybristophilia, erotophonophilia, homicidophilia, graphic images, mention panic attacks, smoking, mentions disfigurement of faces, severed body parts, knives, guns, threatening phone calls, face masks (horror), knife wielding, blood, gore, death/murder, knife play, bloody handjobs, cum mixing with blood, consensual sex but nonconsensual murder, HONESTLY SOME REALLY FUCKED UP SHIT AND IM SORRY BUT YALL SHOULD BE READING THE WARNINGS, sexual innuendos, kitchen sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, cream pies, cuck! (??) member, voyeurism, exhibitionism, breeding kink, PLS LET ME KNOW IF IM MISSING ANYTHING PLS 🔪word count: 6.8k 🔪summary: you and your friends get caught up in a classic horror slasher movie, only it's in real life. Now you're off to fend for yourselves in Seungcheol's million dollar home. The question is, did you keep them out, or did you just lock them in? 🔪author note: thank you @multi-kpop-fanfics and @wonwussy for beta reading for me <3. here's some of their notes “I’m scratching my face to not fucking scream” “WELL SHIT BRO WHAT THE FUCK” -Zeta “It definitely does capture that slasher essence” -SJ this was so fun yet mind numbing to write but this is way more extreme than anything I’ve ever written like I lost a lot of sanity writing this. FR one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever written. I hope it was worth it. ENJOY EVERYONE and even tho it came out late HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Ever since the murders over a week ago, everyone in town has been on edge. All including the individuals most closely involved.

You had lost three core members of your eight.

Joshua, someone you’ve known since grade school who was sliced open from the back before being stabbed 8 times to the point of excessive bleeding. He had just gone out to walk his dog, the poor creature being the only reason they found his body at all. If not for the dog’s bloody paws, and the trail of blood they left behind finding help, Joshua’s cadaver would’ve lost deep in the woods.

And then Chan, your long-time boyfriend, was stabbed fifteen times in the chest. His face was so disfigured from obvious violence and what looked to be burn scars, that he was practically unrecognizable if not for the fact he died in his own home. Police are still looking for his severed arms and legs to this day with no luck.

And finally, Seungkwan, who hadn’t died but lost to the paranoia festering in his blood like a disease. That caused him to take the train to the furthest destination possible to attempt to escape death if at all possible, leaving the rest of you with only the reassuring texts he left in his wake.

All that was left was you, Seokmin, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Wonwoo; the core five.

“Okay, absolutely no one is leaving this house for the time being. Until the psycho is caught behind bars, dead, or whatever the fuck! We’re safe here.”

Seungcheol, the eldest, did just as expected: contacted the rest of you into a personal prison. Luckily, he was loaded. The prison happened to be six thousand square feet of space with countless rooms, amenities, and a housekeeper to boot. From the looks of it, it’s paradise, but it’s definitely a prison.

“Holy shit, you have an indoor basketball court?”

A prison with an indoor basketball court. And a pool apparently.

Seokmin wasted no time to enjoy these features, breaking out of his clothes and cannonballing in his underwear. If you knew any better, Seokmin didn’t even look like he went through any trauma at all. It looked like every other day for him.

“There's a murderer and you’re doing butterfly strokes?” You asked, baffled.

The golden man scoffed, reaching the edge of the pool and resting against it with his forearms. “What am I gonna do? Wallow, crying to my mom, worrying about dying, and not taking advantage of this gorgeous mansion we’re staying in?”

“Thank you, Seokmin,” Seungcheol grinned.

Seokmin winked back at him, “Of course, daddy.”

“How are you both so unserious about all this?”

Wonwoo left a kind hand against your shoulder, looking back at you with warm eyes and a small smile. “They’re grieving. Just in their own way.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “They’re being ridiculous. We shouldn’t be here. We need to be at the police station or something.”

“You were there when I got the call. The creepy voice said no police or you all die. Remember?”

You shuddered, hands over your sides to relieve your chilled skin. “Of course I do, but we’re sitting ducks here. This isn’t any better. We need protection.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to scoff then. He strutted in front of you, flaunting his wing span before flexing his arms and then crossing them over his chest. “Well, you have me.”

“And me,” Seokmin joined. “Pure muscle right here.”

“Maybe pure laughing gas, not sure about muscle. We’re actually living in a horror movie right now and you’re all making jokes.”

“Hey,” Wonwoo stroked your head as his soothingly deep voice serenaded you, “Don’t say that. We’ll make it out of here.”

His arms come around you, forearms pressed against your collarbones, and his chin crooked over your shoulder. “You have me too. I would run through that knife before it could get to you.”

You genuinely smile for the first time being there, your hand stroking over his embrace. Wonwoo delicately kissed the temple of your forehead, reminding you what it was like to be constantly adored.

You were grateful for what he had become in your life. Wonwoo had kept you company in your time of need. In the absence of Chan. He had come to your house with whatever he thought you might need, lent you his shoulder that you could cry on, lent his ears so that he could listen, lent his body that you could heal. In more ways than one.

“You’re right. You are.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his body and meeting his eyes framed in specs of hard plastic. “You’re the first person I can sacrifice if we face them head to head.”

He mused at you. “Ooh, now look who’s pulling jokes.”

“Who said I was joking?”

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Minghao commented coming through the back door. “Horror movie rules: they get killed while having sex.”

You punched the new face right in the arm, watching him scurry away to your other friends laughing.

“Not funny, Hao.”

Minghao sneers at you, a jester smile still on his face. “Ease up, princess. Wonwoo, watch your girl.”

“Only because she’s so pretty to look at,” he briefly grinned down at you before directing his attention to Minghao sternly, “but come on. We’re all a little psyched right now. Cool it with the murder talk. Alright?”

Wonwoo pulled you aside into the dining area, ignoring the careless laughter outside. His thumb stroked against your knuckles, lips pressing sweetly against your cheeks. His grin sunk deeper in his cheeks the further he made it past your jaw and then down your neck. He felt your throat vibrate against his lips. “Wonwoo…”

“I can’t have all these guys get you heated like this. That’s my job,” he teased with a rasp.

You slightly pushed him off, your arms swung over his shoulders. “You’re so ridiculous right now.”

“Anything to put that smile on your face.”

His lips reconnected with your neck, nipping at your skin. His humming sent tingles down your spine, and he took your body to press you against the side of the counter. Your hands grasped his baggy shirt, lip close to his ear, fanning your breath against his face. You smiled like a girl in love. Obsessed. “Daddy…”

“I love it when you call me that,” he mumbled, just as love-struck, if not more. Your giggles brought out the pink on Wonwoo’s ears and cheeks while tightening the groin of his pants. You noticed immediately, cupping it in your palm, and running your finger along the seam. Your eyes skimmed over his taken expression, leaning your full weight into him. “I know there’s something else you really love.”

“Do you now?”

You nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “But do you really want to do it here? Risk getting caught?”

He leaned into your touch, allowing your fingers to take apart his pants. “Try new things right? Like you always say. Plus you’re scared. Gonna turn that fear into pleasure. Make you feel good, just what my baby deserves.”

“You're so good to me, Daddy,” you moaned.

His hand finds the hem of your shorts, pulling them down to expose yourself to the cold air. He fingered through your panties and slid two digits through your folds. He felt your breath hitch as he squeezed your clit, eliciting your soft whines. “You’re so wet down there, baby.”

“Just waiting for daddy to fuck me where anyone can find us and watch.”

Wonwoo eagerly pulled down his pants, kicking them and yours aside, but not without pocketing your underwear. He lifted you up slightly from the ground, his exposed cock hitting at your hip. “Look what you do to me.”

Your throat went dry at the sight of him, hand aching to wrap your hand around his girth and have him shoved inside you.

He didn’t let you wait a second long, and pushed in slowly inch by inch, burying himself in your pussy until he was nearly balls deep. You grasped his shoulder in a gasp, savoring the fire burning in your stomach. The girth of his cock stretched your molten walls, allowing them to melt all around his cock as he spread your legs. You writhe in his embrace, your limbs closing around his lean and toned build, already blissful from the few seconds of him being inside you.

Wonwoo’s words kissed your lips, flushed your skin, and left a permanent smile on your face. It swelled pride in his chest, better than any physical trophy would have. His hips slowly rolled against yours, letting you adjust to his size. He massaged the flesh of your side through his fingers, mentally reassuring himself you were his and his alone, but his names on your lips became more than proof.

Your hips buckled towards him in heat, matching his pace before the carnal side of him decided to fuck you like an animal. His cock then plunged sharply inside you, and then again, a whimper coming out of your lips. Your hips stuttered the harder he pounded, arching your back, you felt his hand above your ass, pushing you against him.

“Daddy…”

He lost control when it came to you, addicted—religious—the second your body came in contact with his. He loved how your fingers ran through his hair, not caring how his glasses fell off his face in the process. With drool out of the corner of his lips, he could feel the blood rush up to the surface of your skin, making him feel warm at home inside you. Throbbing, he only got harder feeling how perfectly snug you were, pricking his clammy skin with goosebumps as he bottomed out.

“You’re sopping, precious,” he murmured with a sly grin.

He had you begging, flustered, and beautiful. Your hand clasped his face as your other arm looped around his neck, swallowing his lips, anxious and thirsty for his breath. You craved every part of him viscerally. “Cum in me, daddy. Please…”

He scoffed, lips ghosting over yours. “Will you take every bit of daddy’s cum, hmm? Hold my cum inside you.”

You nodded gingerly. “Yes, yes. I promise, daddy. Give it to me please, I want you to spill your cum inside me and make me yours…”

“Hold on to me.”

You obliged, met with the hot stream of his climax, yours quick to follow. He embraced your sides, devouring your lips and muffling your whines. His loads pumped into you in erratic thrusts, fucking his cum back into you and making sure you drained him of every ounce. His fingers dug into your flesh, feeling you just come apart for him, undoing the tension that festered earlier.

But that tension was needed. It was necessary to survive. Everyone let themselves forget the current predicament, basking in the glow of the sunset until dinner time arrived. Despite the housekeeper that supposedly exists, she hadn’t been around since all of you stepped foot in the house, like a ghost presence. Seungcheol scrambled to find her—reminding you of his peculiar obsession with the woman—as he wondered when dinner would be ready since a rise in temperature or a savory scent couldn’t be found in the kitchen.

“That’s strange. She’d be finished with a whole chicken by now,” the homeowner commented, noticeably picking his nails.

“Aww,” Seokmin groaned, “Well, is there anything else to eat?”

“I mean…you can look around.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. “This is your house. You don’t know what you have in your own house?”

“You try navigating a five-story home with countless cabinets!”

“Buy a smaller house, you prick!”

“Guys!” Minghao chimed in. “Breathe in…and out. We’ll just find food. Seungcheol, your maid, your house, your search. She’s probably fine.”

Your hands slammed against those pristine marble counters. “We are NOT splitting up right now. This is what the killer wants. She’s probably already dead and we’re fucked.”

Wonwoo came to your side, laying a cool calm over your shoulder, and rubbed your sides. You let yourself melt in his touch, his sweet voice soothing you effectively.

Seokmin sat up from his stool, “Okay, okay. I will help Seungcheol and you guys stick together.”

“That’s still splitting up!”

“Better than alone.” Seungcheol rebutted. “You guys stay.”

Despite your protests, they went on their search. Your head banged against Wonwoo’s chest, muttering in anguish about how everything was going wrong and that it’d only get worse. Meanwhile, Minghao seemed to regain some of that tension but masked the fear with the bright light of his phone, scrolling through TikTok. You didn’t know what was more annoying, sensation of imminent death possibly behind any door, or the same five songs replaying on Minghao’s feed.

After 15 minutes when they were nowhere to be seen, your patience had run thin. You picked yourself up from Wonwoo’s lap and dusted yourself off. “Fuck this. We’re finding them.”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, a concerned glow in his gaze. “Babe, hey. They’ve got it. Trust them.”

“Wonwoo, you know I can’t do that. Let’s just find them, hmm? Together?”

“Not a bad idea,” Minghao agreed. “Better in groups right? We go together, eliminate us as any potential suspects.”

Your boyfriend sighed, collected your hand, and laced his fingers through yours. “Fine.”

You were all joined together by the hip, making sure you were each other's sights. Through the wider than wingspan hallways, past the ridiculously expensive sculptures, you kept your eyes out for your estranged friends. Silence couldn’t have been more loud in these cavernous spaces, only hearing the gut feelings in your stomachs that’s churned in trepidation. Every step taken was the group closing in on the killer.

Fortitude meant nothing if the danger was already inside.

Before turning around the corner, Minghao—reluctant to lead the group—crashed into a human-sized obstacle, causing the stumble of your entire party. You all faced a wide-eyed Seungcheol with the missing young housekeeper walking hand in hand with him. Suspicious, but besides the point.

“Holy shit, we said we’d come back!”

“It’s been 20 minutes, Cheol! You guys could’ve been dead for all we know.” You retorted.

“Wait, where’s Seokmin?” Wonwoo asked, noticing he didn’t see him nearby.

“He went ahead. He needed to piss or something and meet up later.”

“You idiot.” Your eyes burned a frustrated rage. “I said don't split up. DON’T SPLIT UP! That’s the number one rule of horror movies. You’re going get us fucking killed. He could be the murderer for all we know.”

Seungcheol scoffed, shaking his head. “Seokmin? No way. He’s the last person to even think to do that.”

“Well, do you see him? No! Probably he’s off someone being Ghostface reject with his stupid little voice modulator and cheap party city costume.”

“I told you—“ Before he could finish, his phone went off in the nick of time. When he pulled it out to saw Seokmin’s caller ID on display and the owner of the device wouldn’t help but smile. “See the bastard is even calling.”

He picked up and put him on speaker, eyeing you cheekily, amped to prove you wrong. “Seok, you little shit. How long does it take to piss, huh? Just say you wanted to take a dump.”

“Oh yeah, I took the shittiest, stinkiest, fattest dump. You could probably smell all the way from the other end of the hall.”

Instead of Seokmin on the other line, all of you were met with the eerie voice that had called you multiple times before. The voice that felt like spiders crawling up your legs. The voice that had you second guess whether you locked the front and the back door. The voice whose owner had killed countless people already.

Seungcheol held the phone in a vice grip swallowing, fear stilling in his unsteady eyes. “You—Where the fuck is Seokmin, you son of a bitch?”

The morphed voice on the other end laughed, sounding bone chilling as nails against a blackboard. “What’s to say? Why don’t we play a little game to find out?”

“Mother fu—“You grabbed the phone from Seungcheol to answer in his place, cutting the older man off. “Why go through with this?”

“Why, I just want to help you find your beloved friend. All out of the kindness of my heart.”

“If it was all kindness, you could tell us where he is.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Psycho,” Minghao muttered under his breath, eyes wide in shock and fear, as if registering the idea of death for the first time.

“And if we refuse?” Wonwoo interjected.

“Seokmin dies, rock for brains,” Seungcheol gritted.

“Ding, ding, ding. Or should I say, chop, chop, chop, since that’s what'll happen if you get any of my questions wrong.”

You scoffed, coming down the stairs with your friends to follow. “Have at it then, you freak.”

“Hey, hey, play nice. Maybe I’ll get too excited and decide to cut him up early.”

Seungcheol glared at you briefly before taking back the phone, storming down the stairs, and reaching the ground floor. “Ask away, as long as Seokmin is safe.”

“First an easy one. What’s your favorite scary movie, Seungcheol?”

His feet stopped at the end of the couch in his living room, stammering to answer. “What kind of fucking question—uh, The Ring?”

“Don’t lie to your friends, Seungcheol. You know that’s not the answer, that’s just what you say to anyone that asks. Say the real answer.”

“That’s the movie though!” he started to shout, visibly shaking.

“Just say it, Cheol!” Minghao pushed.

“Stop playing around Choi Seungcheol! Just say it,” You joined.

“Fine!” He faced the friends, evidently swallowing his pride as he choked up on his answer. “I never watched a goddamn scary movie! Is that what you want to hear? I get panic attacks every time I hear one in the background, why do you I’m always going off smoking when you guys put one on,” he confessed through his tears.

“Congratulations. Your first right answer. Now was that so hard? Pussy boy?”

“Fuck you,” Seungcheol sputtered, tossing the phone back to you.

“Next question. ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,’ Leatherface is known for wearing a mask when it was in fact several. How many and what were they in the original movie?”

“Who the fuck would know an answer like that?” Minghao croaked in disbelief.

“Three. A ‘Killing Mask’, an ‘Old Lady Mask’ and a ‘Pretty Woman Mask.’” Wonwoo calmly answers, garnering horrified looks all around. “I wanted to be a filmmaker, remember?”

“Correct. Next question. What Was Freddy Krueger's serial killer nickname before he died?”

“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” you said slightly panicked, “Wonwoo?”

“The Springwood slasher.”

“Wow, Another amazingly correct answer. Hold on to that one, Y/n. He’s a keeper. He’s smart and fucks your brains out to the point of you screaming bloody murder? What a catch.”

You didn’t respond, impatience seething on the tip of your tongue, “Just tell us where this is all going.”

“Patience, sweetheart. Last question. What exact kind of knife does Ghostface use in the Stab movies? Here’s a hint: it’s the same one I’m holding in my hand against Seokmin’s throat. (Help me please...)”

“S-Seok.” Seungcheol gasped.

Seokmin’s voice could barely be heard on the other end, weak and afraid, only staggering breaths audible.

“Wonwoo, please,” Seungcheol begged, tears falling past his neck. “He’s our best friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed, gears visibly creaking in his head, “I know he uses a hunting knife, b-but—“

“Oh…” the voice cooed, “Well, that’s just not enough, is it? Seokminnie, say goodbye to your friends (Please, no…).”

“Seokmin!”

“Wait!” You barged, clutching the phone to the point of it almost bending. “A modified Buck 120. I remember now. It’s coming back to me. Now, let Seokmin go!”

The line went dead and in turn, light cast in the evening darkness of the poolside. All your eyes shot back at the change of light, startled at the sight in front of them. Seokmin was seated in a chair, bruises against his sides, bleeding from the splices on his forearms, and duct tape over his mouth. Yet the most frightening part was his closed eyes.

“Seokmin!”

You all rushed towards him, swinging the porch door in a panic. Seungcheol tried slapping him awake, pleading he’d be alive. “Seokmin please, please, wake up…

The poor victim's eyes start to flicker open, mumbling through the adhesive over his lips.

“Buddy,” Seungcheol ripped the duct tape clean off him, his ear coming up to his friend’s lips. “Speak to me…”

Seokmin’s voice came out in croaks, hardly incoherently, all except, “Be…hind…”

Minghao spat up blood, doubled over as Ghostface was revealed right behind him, and fell right into the pool. You and the housekeeper both let out a blood-curdling scream. The masked intruder wiped off the blood using his black rope, anticipating a lunge towards their next victim.

“Run,” Wonwoo breathed out.

He took your hand and ran with it. Taking a second to look back, you see Seungcheol and the housekeeper try to escape similarly before she was tugged right back towards the killer and she was stabbed right in front of him five times, each one faster than the last, having the poor Seungcheol paralyzed and fallen on his knees. The sounds of suffering were loud enough to hear throughout the neighborhood.

Wonwoo dragged you back upstairs, his survival instinct telling him to seek haven high and far up the house.

“You left them there to die,” You proclaimed.

“He said he could manage it. You’re more important.”

“You actually believe that? Ghostface snuck up on Minghao with neither of us looking!”

“We’re going to have to. Secungcheol can handle himself.”

Finally, he finds the room, closing the door behind him and pushing heavy furniture in front of it for more time to stall. “We’ll be ok for a little bit here. Let’s look for weapons.”

He started rummaging through drawers, looking for anything strap, blunt, heavy, anything worth using. He was red in the face, sweat drenching his entire body. The only thing running through his mind was keeping you, the most important person in his life, safe.

“Wonwoo, I don’t know if we’re going to find anything. Fuck. I’m so scared right now.”

He recognized the panic in your eyes, the bounce in your step, and the quiver in your voice. “Hey, hey, baby. Look at me.” He grasped your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“I’m here, hmm.” He kissed your closed eyes. “You’re alright.”

Then your tempered cheeks. “We’ll get through this.”

The tip of your nose. “I love you like hell.”

Finally your trembling lips. “I’ll keep you alive.”

“Promise?” You managed to breathe out.

“Scouts honor.”

The banging resonated from outside the locked door, only getting louder and closer every passing second as if teasing you to death. You shook in Wonwoo’s embrace, burying your face in his chest. “I don’t want to die here, baby.”

“You won’t. Not with me.” One arm wrapped around your body, and another had his fingers locked around the base of a lamp, tugging it from the outlet. Pitch darkness joined you, only having to rely on the dim-lit sky through the peek of the windows.

Whomever on the other side cracked through the wood of the door, breaking it piece by piece as it fell to the ground, knocking over the dresser that blocked

“Shit, shit, shit.” Wonwoo pushed you behind him.

Finally, your barrier came down with a final kick, rendering it useless. Wonwoo let out a battle cry, charging at them with the lamp above his head. He swung his weapon while Ghostface swung theirs, both missing simultaneously. Gritting his teeth, Wonwoo pulled forward, aiming for the head.

They crash against the wall in the process, but not without mutilating the midsection of Wonwoo’s stomach. The visually impaired man fell back to the ground, groaning in agony as he clutched his stomach, while blood trickled through his fingers. “Mother fucker...”

Wonwoo’s vision started to fight against him with the loss of his glasses, dimming images before him, and slowly processing the murderous figure trodding before him. Wonwoo’s determination picked him right back up slowly, picking up his lamp once again, trying to take another move toward the perpetrator. And by pure luck, the lamp crashed against the crown of their head.

Ghostface stumbled back, quick to recover but visibly agitated. Soon enough, they plunged the full length of the knife right into Wonwoo’s gut, sticking it deep and long before kicking him off of it. Wonwoo lands on the hardwood, blood gushing out of him like a public water fountain. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Wonwoo!” You come by his side, clutching at his wound desperately. “No, no, no.”

The sinister figure approached once more, hand creeping against the edge before he pulled it over and off his head. His eyes stared back at you both maniacally. His grin stretched from both ends freakishly before overtaking in deep chuckles. “Happy to see me?”

“…C-Chan?” Wonwoo managed to gasp.

“Hi, bestie.” His signature smile, once warm and inviting, reflected horrifyingly as if out of a film, one with too much bloodshed and betrayal to imagine. “Well, didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?”

“Chan, what the fuck?” You screeched.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Wonwoo voiced panic-stricken. “What, how?”

One foot over the other, Chan carried himself with conviction, ease, and the confidence of a man who slaughtered countless amounts of people.

“You guys don't know how easy it is to fake my death. I was surprised by how incredibly stupid police officers are. Find a body that’s my height, my build, cut off their hands and arms to not get their fingerprints, singe their skin and face to the point of unrecognition, and plant them in your own home. I’m a fucking genius.”

“S-Seungkwan,” Wonwoo wept, his adam’s apple, “You actually—”

“It was beautiful. Masterful.”

“Why?” Wonwoo stammered. “Your best friend—“

“He was an imbecile. Weak. All bark and no bite. You will never understand how good it felt to stick the knife inside him and watch the blood burst off of him like a sprinkler. Like the knife going in and out of him surged power throughout my entire body. So, I kept doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. AND DOING IT.”

His smile. That violating smile.

You sobbed, covering Wonwoo’s wound with your hands. “Y-you monster.”

“This was all just fun for you?” Wonwoo bared his teeth. “You get your kicks from lying, deceiving, stabbing your friends? You think you’re some Billy Loomis?”

“Of course I have fun. I had lots of fun. We had so much fucking fun.”

“We?” Wonwoo repeated.

“What the fuck do you mean we?” You asked horrified.

Chan started to chuckle to himself, chest heaving exuberantly before he stood completely still. Dreadfully still.

“Well, I'm not the one that killed Joshua, am I?”

A million guesses ran through Wonwoo’s brain. None made sense the more he thought about it. “Your Stu Macher? Seokmin…Seungcheol…?”

Your eyes turned to him fearful, before it melted into something else, something familiar. Something terrifying. “No…” your lips drew close to his ear. “Me…”

Your hands squeezed around his wound, gripping, earning his moans of anguish, screaming at you to stop, before you retrieved the knife hidden behind your boot and drove it into his shoulder. Wonwoo let out the loudest scream he could ever muster, feeling the blade sharply cut his nerve whilst pain shot into his chest. He tapped his heel incessantly on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes, looking at you in disbelief, overcome with hurt.

“And he was a good fuck too until the knife I put through his back made him scream like a little bitch.”

You pulled out the knife from him, seeing how the pain he felt in his body only complimented the suffering pooling in his heart, his mind, his soul. His lips quivered in your direction, sucking in his breath. “Y/n…Why?”

You simply shrugged. “Why does anyone kill these days? They’re bored, daddy. Same reason why things can change in the bedroom, to spice things up. The flavor of life is murder now, darling.”

“You’re killing people.”

You drove the knife one more time into his thigh, savoring his scream of agony. “And we’re more alive than we ever have been,” you said, twisting the knife before pulling it out.

You walked toward Chan, helping him pull off his robe. “And so is our sex life.”

“So, Junhui, Soonyoung…Joshua, and even Seungkwan.” Wonwoo asked, catching his breath.

“Every. single. one,” You chuckled. “Draining their cum out of like having a second puberty until life is literally drained out of their bodies. What a bunch of pussy boys. So obsessed with sex, they didn’t see the knife coming their way.”

Your hand reached for the ottoman and pushed Chan there to be seated, underdressed in the black tank top and black jeans he hid underneath with his momentarily abandoned bloody knife at his side. You unbuckled his pants single-handedly, your knife still in your other hand. “And Chan just gets so fucking hard with all the bloodshed. Like a bloodthirsty animal.”

“You just look so fucking sexy with blood on your hands,” Chan moaned, “Touch me how I like it, baby.”

“Mmh, my pleasure.” Your hand used the blood covering it as a morbid form of lube, closing around the girth of his cock to squeeze and lightly stroking it from base to tip, softly thumbing over the small slit on top.

His stomach flexed, bucking his hips in your direction as he bit down on his bottom lip, beaming like a child on Christmas. Horny for your touch, Chan couldn’t help but squirm in his seat, warning up to your touch. He was absolutely growing at a rapid pace. “Like that baby, like that.”

“That feel good, daddy? You like how the blood is covering your entire cock? Seokmin’s blood, Minghao’s blood, Seungcheol’s blood? Wonwoo’s blood?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“You two,” Wonwoo’s shock couldn’t stagger from the scene in front of him, unable to process all this information at once.

“You’re massaging our friends into my cock so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” You traced your fingers over the details of his shaft, your nails prodding at the veins as your hand slowly picked up pace. You rolled him in your fist, letting him rut in your defiled hand as he moaned your name like an animal in heat. “I’m getting so wet watching fuck in my hand covered in blood. You’re just a sick lunatic obsessed with killing your friends and fucking my sweet pussy. I love that about you, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he screamed, hands gripping the ottoman in restraint, brimming with passion, “Wanna mix Wonwoo’s cum you kept inside you with the blood. Sit that sweet pussy on my cock for me, lover.”

You nodded invitingly, not missing a beat. You never did replace the underwear from before, making it easy to remove your shorts and sliding him inside your warm walls, massaging his length as you rolled your hips against his. You held the knife you still had in a death grip, stabling against the reliability of Chan’s shoulders. You mumble his name pleased, arching your back as you grinded down on his lap. “Your cock feels so good covered in blood, daddy.”

“Your pussy feels even better knowing how much fun you had stabbing Wonwoo for me.”

“Of course, daddy.” You turned to the body mutilated and defenseless on the ground, grinning as Wonwoo was forced to watch. “That look good, Daddy Wonwoo?” Your ass bounced purposely in Chan’s lap, the jiggle showing off the splatter of blood left from the handjob.

Everything in Wonwoo told him to look away but he couldn’t, like a train wreck or a car crash, he couldn’t part with the mess of a situation he was witnessing. He wasn't sure what this meant for him, mentally nor physically.

“You like watching Chan fuck me, Daddy? His bloody dirty cock fucking me like you did a hour ago, fucking me like a nasty little whore.”

He hissed through his teeth, right the strange feeling surging in his pain-stricken body, “Shut…the fuck up.”

You laughed obnoxiously. “You love it. You love being a little cuck, watching other guys fuck my pussy. As if you hadn’t peeped on me and Chan fucking when he wasn’t ‘dead’.”

“It’s not true, you bitch.” The twitch in his trousers told him otherwise.

“You’re such a liar a dirty, dirty liar like I’m a dirty, dirty fucking whore.” You groaned loudly taking Chan’s cock, bouncing against his lap as you felt him pulse around your walls.

“That’s right baby take my cock.” Chan’s hand came over your bare cheeks, striking them with his full palms while his hips jerked up your body. “Taking the murder fueled, hard fucking cock.”

“Daddy, your cock is making me so fucking wet, stretching my pussy the way you sliced open our friends,” You growled.

“Fuck you’re such a little succubus, baby. Bouncing on my cock, coating yourself in blood. And I’ll kill more and more for you. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Yeah,” You began slowing your pace, drinking in his every word. “You’d do anything for me?”

“I’d kill the entire human population for you.”

That left you smiling from ear to ear, the tension coiling in your stomach. Your chest pressed against his, pushing against his thrusts. “Yeah? Would you cum in me, Daddy? Mix our dirty mess inside me. Let me take your cum, daddy.”

“I’ll let you drain me of every drop, my little psychopath.”

“Cum daddy cum, make me full and breed me with our homicidal baby daddy. Make you a real daddy.”

Chan shuddered, overwhelmed with immense arousal. His hips found life of their own, hammering into you at top speed, and watching the pleasure morph on your face and the staccato rhythm of your breath leave your lips, all while the load threatened to burst out of his sack. “I’m cumming, baby, all for you, ah—“ then it exploded inside you. His cum launched out of his cock like a hose, he painted your wall in milky white, turning pink as it seeped out of you.

“I’m so close, daddy…”

Chan threw his head back to catch his breath, hands possessively finding purchases on your hips. “That’s it, baby. cum for daddy.”

“I’m cuming daddy, I’m—“ You gripped your knife, taking Chan’s abandoned one before plunging both in his head. His smile dropped, a small and weak, “baby” leaving his sweet lips before spitting up blood on your chest and he fell limp.

You didn’t stop, however, given the fact that your orgasm had just arrived the mere second Chan tasted metal in his mouth. Your moans could’ve been mistaken for anguish if not for the smile on your savage face. “I’m cumming all over your cock, Daddy, fuck! You’re so good to me, you do so much for me. I love you so much. Hitting my spot even in death.”

The wave of climax finally started to fade, unlike your smile, wretched and demonic. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Daddy. I’ll miss you so much.” You kissed deceased Chan’s lips, coming down from him, and fixing his pants before fixing his pants before pulling your shorts back on your body.

“Y/n…what the fuck?”

Watching you pull the knives out of Chan’s head, Wonwoo's expression was a mix of confusion and horror, struggling to back away as you approached him calmly, almost serenely.

“Chan has served his purpose,” You answered plainly as if obvious. “It was his time.”

“You did that, all that, with him, and you MURDER HIM? Your partner in sick, sick psychotic crime?”

“I told you spice was necessary, plus I’ve grown rather fond of you.” You bent down to his level, eyes noticeably just a deep pit of disparity. “I couldn’t let him kill you, so I beat him to it. Good thing too, because that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

Wonwoo whimpered under your touch—well, the knife’s touch—as the tip of it dragged over his jaw, drawing out a shudder. “Y-you’re letting me live?”

Your smile. That damned smile. You and Chan were mere reflections of each other. How had he not seen this sick image sooner?

“As long as it's with me, because you love me right? That’s what you said. You’ll always love me and keep me alive. You promised.”

You pressed the blade against his neck, “You’re cold-blooded. Fucking your dead friend’s girlfriend, leaving your other friends to die to save me, and taking on a mass murderer just for me.” Your other hand caressed over his face. “That’s hard fucking core, baby. I love that so much. You really love and want me. Well, I want you just as bad.”

“Like you wanted Chan?”

You scoffed, using the knife to point at the abandoned soulless body on the ground. “Chan was disposable. He was already fucked up in the brain. I can nurture you, let you prove you’re that you’re mine and only mine. Then I’d have no reason to kill you. Not at all…say you’ll be with me forever.”

“…yes, sweetie. O-of course I will.”

You sighed a breath of relief, your harmless hand coming over to stroke over the stray hairs on his head. “That’s my daddy. My one and only. We can be the finals. Together. Only us—”

“Hello! Wonwoo! Y/n!” Miraculously, Seungcheol found their way to you, barely alive it sounds like.

Rage filled your eyes. “Holy fuck how is he still alive,” you mumbled under your breath. “I’ll take care of him.”

You held the knife to your side, standing by the door and away from its open view. “Cheol! In here! We caught the killer!”

Seungcheol managed to find the defaced door, peeking through the rubble to see a disheveled Wonwoo, panting and close to death. “Wonwoo!”

“Cheol…” Wonwoo grunted.

“Hang in there, buddy. I’ve got you.”

“To…your…right.”

You glared at Wonwoo, betrayal in your eyes before launching yourself at the hero, who hardly had a scratch on their body. Seungcheol, taking his friend's warning in consideration, built up a wall of defense. His eyes caught you just in time and held up your arms, pinning you against a wall. His eyes finally registered on your face, and his grip on you only tightened. “Y/n, you evil little bitch.”

You chuckled tauntingly, struggling against his weight and strength. “Hi, Cheol. I know you always wanted to stick something in me, mind letting me do it first?”

“You—wow, you’re actually mentally deranged.”

“You don’t like that? Maybe my knife through your skull can change your mind.”

He kicked you in the groin, having you plummet to your knees, cusses streaming out of you like a river. “You pussy. Ass. Bitch.”

“Seungcheol,” Wonwoo groaned, painfully cheering him on.

You managed to kick Seungcheol down in your distress, crawling on top of him to gain leverage. “I know you liked to be topped.”

You held the knife, hands wrapped tightly around the handle before striking. Meanwhile, Seungcheol’s hands were wrapped around your wrists, the tip of the knife tickling his nose. Sweat beaded against his forehead, struggling harder than he thought he would as you smiled still.

“This would be a lot sexier if you let me run my knife inside you, baby.”

“Fuck you and your demented punk ass,” he grunted.

“I would if you’d just FUCKING DIE!”

A gunshot follows soon after and the blood gushed from your neck, pouring from both ends and falling lifelessly against Seungcheol, who let out a shrill scream.

“I found a gun,” Seokmin proclaimed weakly from the door before fainting to the ground.

Seungcheol rolled your body off of him, sick to his stomach. “Sick crazy bitch.”

He looked towards his friend who remained helpless his entire journey before his eyes got caught on the dead body he only realized now. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo whispered.

“And they…”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, dude.”

Seungcheol went around to pick up Seokmin from the ground, grabbing the gun. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s eyes lingered over your body, in disbelief it was alive a mere second ago, then he saw something strange, causing his eyes to fly open. “Cheol behind you!”

Another gunshot. Right between your eyes and your body that stood for hardly a second longer than it should’ve—of course with the knife still in your hand—fell right back on the ground.

“They always come back,” Wonwoo quoted.

Seungcheol let out a deep exhale, loosening his grip around the gun. “And aim for the head.”

“Sorry about your house.”

“…sorry about your girlfriend.”

“Me too.”

post reading a/n: always like me to insert chan into anything fr. i have no excuses

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @smileysuh (felt fucked up not to tag you bc you’re fucked it just like me 💕)

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wondernus · 5 months

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˗ˋˏ THE FIANCÉ ˎˊ˗ | Masterlist

synopsis: a mysterious pink fishing vest. a fiancé who wakes up in the middle of nowhere. and an upcoming wedding on the line. there's only so much you can take before you let your perfect future crumble before your eyes.

pairing: lee chan x pi cheolin x reader

genre: romance, humor, mystery | mini smau series

tags: established relationship, live laugh love pi cheolin, cheating is brought up but chan doesn't cheat, food

taglist: closed

started: jan 16, 2024 - mar 25, 2024

message from nu: another hehehaha unserious idea sparked from a melatonin-induced state of being. maybe I will start writing smaus again if my schedule permits it. dedicated to my beloved @bitchlessdino 🤍 wishing you all the happiest new year - nu ♡

wondernus main masterlist

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE (END)

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lololololchips · 6 months

Note

helloo!!! ur boyfriend texts are so good omg, was wondering if u could make one for dino or hoshi.. 😅😅 thank u

here you go hehe i picked dino:)

Lee Chan || boyfriend texts with dino!

genre: smau, idol!bf, one shot texts, fluff

warnings: cursing, fem pronouns

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kkumawrites · 1 year

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PANG! a your choice story Summary: You'd consider yourself a simple college student, a freshman who just wants to survive their first year - but things get complicated when you're suddenly falling for someone you definitely shouldn't be, especially since he has a girlfriend already. Pairing(s): lee chan x fem!reader Genres: college!au, semi sunshine x grumpy, social media!au, pretty angsty, drama, strangers to friends to lovers, TW/CW: very toxic relationships, mentions/talks about domestic abuse, talks of depression and mental illness, slight spoilers to hoshi's au (that isn't even out lmao), minor violence, more tba... Status: Complete!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ 0. main characters! 1. my bio partner is a robot 2. you care me <;3 3. we are fucked 4. this is a threat (real) 5. you didn't raise me at all 6. ???? 7. just for a month 8. 2 week update 9. baby otter 10. boba (not) date ✎ 11. stop being memeable 12. third wheeling ✎ 13. a rare jihoon spotted 14. heart to heart ✎ 14.5. pink chan! 15. spring showcase 16. confrontation ✎ 17. taking some space 18. jealousy, jealousy 19. over it 20. by the shark tank 21. epilogue

#pang! masterlist #seventeen #seventeen social media au #seventeen smau #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #svt smau #svt social media au #dino social media au #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen series #lee chan #dino

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mingtinys · 1 month

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how flowers bloom and wither

pairing : lee chan x gn!reader , platonic! boo seungkwan x reader

apocalypse!au , exes to lovers , angst , hurt / minimal comfort

warnings : language , death , apocalyptic themes , depictions of wounds and blood , suicidal ideation , this is not a happy ending or story

word count : 6.3 k

requested ? no

a/n : heavily inspired by this juyeon fic that made my cry in my car (p.s. there is a jeonghan ver as well).

Your voice is the first to call his name in months. It's been so long that the cadence of it sounds foreign to his ears. Almost like another language entirely. A cry from the distance, barely audible in a way he easily dismisses it as a hallucination. Perhaps he was finally going mad.

He knows other survivors exist, he'd seen them in nearly every town he scavenged. Though in no reality had he ever assumed any of them knew his name. The world had not been kind enough to spare anyone who knew and loved Lee Chan. They'd all been swept away in the initial outbreak. And with no one tethering him to his own existence, he was no more than a living ghost amongst the ruins.

But then the voice calls again, this time closer. Behind him. Louder.

"Chan? Lee Chan!"

And even stranger, he knows this voice. Better than he knows the sound of his own name. Could pick it out of a crowd, blindfolded and all.

Though he still can't bring himself to believe it. Not even as he turns and your silhouette comes into view against the setting sun, your elongated shadow reaching out for him. Tattered shoes well beyond their usable years slap against the pavement as you sprint.

"Oh my God, Chan!"

It has to be a mirage. You'll pass straight through him like an apparition and the universe will laugh at him for believing another one of its cruel jokes.

Yet still, his arms open, and seconds later your full weight crashes into him. Like a tide breaking the shore, stirring up memories like loose sand in its wake.

It's the first time in months he's been held. Felt the warm touch of anything living, much less the safety of something familiar. Tears fill his eyes instantly as Chan clings to the one thing from his past he could never seem to bury. To what he can only assume is a pity gift from the universe making up for all the times it fucked him over. To you.

Your chest heaves against his as you ask, "Is it you? Is this real?"

Chan himself doesn't know the answer to that.

"I can't believe I found you," you breathe out once the air surrounding you two settles. You haven't let go yet and Chan doesn't want you to. Worried that when you finally do, he'll wake up back in the crumbling shed he'd used for shelter the night before. With his back against a cold, moldy mattress instead of being held by the warmth of a thousand suns. Alone again.

"Please say something," you nervously laugh. Despite the chill in the air, Chan's cheeks are burning up. He's at a loss, far too overwhelmed to produce anything remotely coherent. Though as you peel away to examine him, concern knitting your brows, one word does come to mind.

Wow.

You're still as radiant as he remembered. A diamond amongst the ruins of the world. It looks, for the most part, the universe has been kind to you. Good, he thinks.

"You're not..." Your expression falls. "You're not sick, are you?"

It's the fear in your eyes that finally prompts Chan to push down the lump in his throat. "No!" He rasps, then clears his throat. "No, I'm not sick. Promise."

"Are you hungry?"

Chan looks back at the reason he'd left his shelter in the first place, the rundown mini-mart about a hundred feet away. The stabbing pain in his stomach brings him back down to reality.

"There's nothing worthwhile in there, we already checked."

We?

Your arm extends to point past the mini-mart. Towards a small abandoned town that pokes out just beyond the darkening horizon. "Our shelter is just about a mile that way. Would you–"

He agrees before you've even finished your sentence.

Chan cannot fathom the hope you hold in your heart in a world like this. Not until he meets Seungkwan. The vibrant boy you've been traveling with thus far.

"You can't go around picking up strays."

"He's not a stray, Kwan, he's an old friend. Besides, you were a stray at one point too." You disappear into another room before the boy can argue any further. Leaving him to glower at his new guest.

"If you start acting strange, I'll kill you." Seungkwan points at Chan, though he's not the least bit threatening. His shiny eyes and round face are far too friendly to ever be perceived as intimidating.

Yet Chan humors the boy anyway. "Virus-free, I promise." He raises his hands in surrender.

"And don't touch anything." He motions around the living room, which is surprisingly homey.

When you mentioned you had a shelter nearby, Chan was expecting something a little less... comfortable. Something like the random sheds or raided stores he'd crouch into for just a few hours of shut-eye, never any longer. Or perhaps even a poorly constructed tent made up of various scrap parts. But when you climbed the stairs to a tiny townhouse, one of the better-looking ones amongst the multiple shells of former homes in the neighborhood, Chan almost couldn't believe his eyes. Perhaps this really was all just a dream.

The outside, for the most part, looked pretty decent. There had been some obvious repairs done; trash cleaned from the yard, wooden boards haphazardly nailed over broken windows, a tattered blue tarp covering a large section of the roof, and Chan could just barely make out remnants of graffiti that couldn't be scrubbed away. But the blue paint was hardly peeling and the stone steps had only a few cracks.

When it came to the inside, one word came to mind. Charming. None of the furniture matches, meaning either the previous owner hadn't cared for aesthetics or you and Seungkwan had at some point scavenged the surrounding houses in search of the least fucked up looking decor. Even then, it was really just the bare essentials. A surprisingly comfortable couch, two rocking chairs that look as though the wood had been chewed by squirrels, a metal center table, and a couple bookshelves filled with various novels, picture frames of strangers, and knickknacks.

Down the short hallway to the left are two closed doors. Of which he assumes is a single bedroom and bath respectively. Behind him, where you had disappeared to, is a door he'd quickly caught a glimpse of the kitchen through.

Most notably, however, against the back wall of the living room is a stone fireplace. Ablaze with such life it fully illuminates the space, providing a much-needed warmth as the brisk night rolls in. Chan watches it dance over the mound of logs, completely entranced until that same lovely voice from before calls his name once more.

"All we really have left from our last supply run is tuna, I hope that's okay." In your hands is a bowl with a small portion of rice and half a can of tuna, along with a glass of water. It's no five-star meal, but Chan's mouth still waters at the sight. And better yet, it's warm. He can't remember the last time he had a meal that wasn't a can of cold mystery mush or a granola bar.

He half expects Seungkwan to gripe about him taking something as precious in this world as food. But the boy snorts and a teasing smile creeps its way onto his lips. "Poor kid looks like he'll start drooling any second, I think tuna is more than okay."

He's right, tuna and rice is more than okay. In fact, it's the best damn thing he's ever had in his life. Even as he shovels spoonful after spoonful into his mouth, it only gets better. It isn't until every morsel of food has vanished from the bowl that Chan finally acknowledges his drink. Gulping the clear, luke-warm, liquid down in a matter of seconds.

"Thank you," he breaths out.

"So what are your plans? Are you leaving in the morning?" Seungkwan promptly asks.

Oh.

A chasm opens in Chan's stomach. Right, he thinks, How could he be so naive? Sure, the two of you knew each other. But it's been what, three years? Three years of the two of you living your own lives, growing, becoming new people. Almost a full one of those years spent fighting to survive. You didn't even owe him a meal to begin with, much less a place to stay. And, not to mention, Seungkwan doesn't know him from a hole in the wall.

He isn't sure why he assumed you'd stick by his side. But he'd sure hoped you would.

You have an equally solemn look on your face. "Right, you probably have people you need to get back to. They'll be worried if you stay too long."

"No, actually, it's just me."

Please. Chan silently pleads. Please don't leave me alone again.

You lock eyes with Seungkwan. A silent conversation between the two of you has Chan's heart pounding against his ribs.

"Can I talk to you?" Seungkwan motions you to follow him down the hall and into the solo bedroom.

Minutes feel like hours; and no matter how hard he tries, Chan can't decipher anything from the muffled whispers. It's just a flurry of back and forth until it stops with Seungkwan letting out a long sigh.

When Chan sees your nervous, fidgeting, figure appear with Seungkwan in tow, he starts mentally preparing for a no.

"There's only one bedroom," Seungkwan states, arms crossed. "So we'll have to rearrange the sleeping arrangements—"

"I'll sleep anywhere," Chan immediately bargains. "I can take the couch—"

"Absolutely not." The older boy jabs a finger at him, his stare menacing. "That couch is the nicest thing we have, if anything it's mine."

That is perfectly fine with Chan. In fact, he'd take the termite-chewed wooden floor if that's what it would take. "Does this mean..?"

"Yes," the boy exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, but the action doesn't feel malicious. More like a brother teasing his younger siblings. "You're lucky, you had a very reliable source vouch for you."

It feels like Chan can breathe for the first time since this whole shit-storm began. The weight that lifts from his chest makes him feel as though he's floating. And as your soft gaze catches him, he sees it. That indomitable glimmer of hope humanity has to offer. A light at the end of a dark tunnel. Security wrapped up in a warm, fluffy blanket.

A second chance to be alive.

Seungkwan, as Chan quickly learns, had dreams of being a singer back before. There's rarely been a quiet moment in the week since you found Chan. If he's doing repairs, he's humming. If he's taking inventory, he's softly mumbling along to some tune. If he's sat by the fire at night, his voice carries beyond the walls and into the night.

It's strange. Chan hadn't realized just how quiet being alone was until now. But you enjoy Seungkwan's voice, and it eases you to sleep on Chan's shoulder. So he enjoys it as well.

"Are they asleep?" He asks, letting his song teeter off, voice just barely audible above the crackling logs.

Chan looks down at the slow rise and fall of your chest. He smiles fondly, dropping his shoulder a tad lower to not strain your neck. By now, he's finally gotten over the disbelief of his luck in finding you— well, more so you finding him. Deciding to no longer question the probability of it all and simply cherish the feeling you bring him.

"Yeah, I think so."

Similarly, Chan has also learned that as much of a tough guy act as Seungkwan puts on, he's got an incredibly soft heart. It's pertinent in his gaze and the discreet ways he dotes on anyone around him. Bickering with Chan to wear something warmer even though Spring is around the corner or fussing at you to take an extra portion of rations.

In an alternate life, Chan likes to think he and the boy could've been life-long friends.

"How long were you out there alone?" He muses, a curious look on his face.

"Since the first outbreak," Chan answers casually. Though, Seungkwan's eyes go wide in horror.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, why? How long were you?"

"Three weeks, maybe." He shrugs. "Give or take a few days. We ran into each other pretty early on and we've stuck together ever since. Found this place about four months ago and tried to make it feel somewhat normal."

"Oh, that's nice." Chan forgets that for some, life kept moving. Even as society crumbled, humanity persisted. Some in vain, some succeeding, and others, like himself, not at all.

"Can I ask something else?" Seungkwan pulls him from his thoughts. There's a prying curiosity that's scribbled all over his face. Grinning like a schoolgirl with fresh gossip to tell her friends. Chan decides to entertain his curious mind, nodding.

"How do you two know each other?" He gestures at the two of you curled up on the couch. "Like, what's the story there?"

Chan's heart drops straight into his ass and like a reflex, he glances down to ensure you're really asleep. The two of you haven't exactly gotten the chance to talk about everything quite yet. So as of now, he isn't sure where you stand. He decides the more vague the better.

"We met in our third year of university. Their roommate was friends with my roommate."

Seungkwan squints his eyes, visibly displeased with that answer. "And?"

"And..." Chan toys with the material of his pants. "We dated. Two years. Just... didn't work out in the end."

Chan seriously wishes Seungkwan's facial expressions weren't so telling. That way he'd be able to at least pretend he was getting out of this conversation any time soon. But still, the boy persists, nagging him about the who's, what's, when's, where's, and why's until Chan caves. Explaining everything from the stolen glances that started it all, to the teary-eyed bittersweet end.

He vividly remembers the way regret pooled in his chest the moment your front door shut. Making his chest feel cold and empty, a feeling that stuck around nearly every day after. Reminding him of what he let go of for the past three years. The conversation plays on in a loop in his head, and since then, he's thought up about a thousand ways he would've done differently.

"Are you saying you want to break up?" Your voice was so small it ripped Chan's heart in two.

"No! I just— I mean, but... shouldn't we?"

"Our lives started growing in different directions faster than we could keep up." He explains to Seungkwan, who's been uncharacteristically quiet. Not once stopping to interject his opinion or pop in another question. "They were offered a really good internship a few cities away. I was given the opportunity to be mentored by a renowned choreographer. We'd both be so busy. It didn't seem fair to hold each other back from our dreams. There wasn't much of a choice."

But that's not true. Chan ripped the bandaid off long before it could prove to stand the test of time because he was scared. He assumed the love you felt for him would slowly wither and die with the distance. Drawn out in a slow and painful process he couldn't bear the burden of. So he ran, like a coward, and left you to deal with the fallout by yourself.

It's funny, how the universe deals out karma.

"Probably the dumbest decision I've ever made."

Seungkwan hums, relaxing back into his wooden rocking chair, seemingly deep in thought. A silence settles over the room, only the sound of dying embers softly crackling fills the air.

You stir next to him, nose cutely scrunched up as you search for a more comfortable position. Chan hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you to fully lean against him, being extra cautious not to accidentally jostle you awake. You finally settle, and he can't help but notice your body still fits against his perfectly. Just like to used to.

And when Chan lifts his head back to meet Seungkwan's eyes, he catches the tail end of a fond smile. He rises from the chair, making his way around behind the sofa.

"You made it back, that's all that matters." He whispers, hand on Chan's shoulder. "You don't get a lot of second chances in life— much less in the middle of the apocalypse. Maybe it's time you stop just trying to survive and start letting yourself live. Whatever that looks like for you."

Spring rounds the corner like an old friend. Marking officially one year since the world went to shit and bringing with it much-needed rain in the form of rolling storms. One brews on the horizon, dark clouds gradually closing in on the afternoon sun. The cool breeze feels refreshing against Chan's damp skin. A pleasant contrast to the heavy bag slung over his shoulder, filled with scavenged treasures from the latest scout.

"You know, I offered to carry it halfway," you tease, significantly less out of breath than Chan on your trek back home. The exterior of the townhouse hadn't fared well with the harsh storms, yet it's a welcomed sight nonetheless.

"Yeah, but that would require him relinquishing about this much pride," Seungkwan laughs while pinching his fingers together, squinting through the narrow gap between them.

"It's not even that heavy," Chan scoffs, and if you clock his lie, you don't make it known.

"Whatever you say, golden boy," Seungkwan snickers, the corner of his lip quirked up in a smirk before veering off to the small plot just to the left of the entrance steps.

Seungkwan, arguably the most excited for Spring to arrive, had taken up gardening. Plowing up the soil with a water-logged wooden shovel and planting various packs of seeds he'd once found on a scout. They were mostly just flowers, anything useful like fruits and veggies having already been snatched up by other scavengers. However, he'd been lucky enough to find one packet of tomato seeds, one of green onion seeds, and another of squash seeds. The boy has a surprisingly green thumb, having created a flourishing garden in just a month.

"It's looking beautiful, Seungkwan. Another few weeks and we may actually have something to eat that isn't out of a can." You praise, admiring the colorful arrangement as well.

Sure, the fruits and veggies are nice, but Chan much prefers the cluster of voluminous purple hyacinths. Their vibrant color reminds him of the rich sunsets he'd use as a child to gauge when to return home for dinner.

He swiftly plucks a single bloom from the arrangement and places it behind your ear. You smile at the gesture, and it somehow shines brighter than the flower itself. A sight he believes is capable of parting the gray clouds stretching across the sky.

"Stop killing my babies, Lee Chan." Seungkwan chastises, annoyance evident in his tone.

"Sorry," he sheepishly grins, remembering Seungkwan's no-touching rule he had applied to the garden.

In the distance, there's a low rumbling that draws your attention to the sky. "We should go in before it starts pouring." You take Chan's hand, tugging him inside while his heart beats out of his chest. You call out for Seungkwan as well, urging him that his babies will be fine in the rapidly approaching storm.

Rain slowly begins to patter against the rafters the second the front door squeaks shut. Crescendoing to a downpour within a matter of minutes. Sounds like the three of you are in for a long one tonight.

It was hard to notice at first. The occasional slip-ups here and there. Easy enough to blame the rising Summer heat on Seungkwan's mood swings. Even if the boy had been more readily agitated lately, his bubbly moments stuck around in an abundance that excused the outbursts.

Though Chan can't quite get over that look on your face the first time Seungkwan snapped at you. Something about his bush of hydrangeas being disturbed despite you insisting you hadn't laid so much as a finger on his garden. But the moment tears slipped from your irises, Seungkwan crumbled. His eyes blown wide in horror as the realization hit. He uttered endless apologies, begging for forgiveness until you assured him everything was okay.

And to his credit, he hadn't had an outburst that big since. But still, you made sure to be extra cautious around his garden from then on out.

The red patches painting his arms are harder to ignore, though. Especially with the incessant noise of nails obsessively itching at dry skin.

"Are you okay?" Chan asks, finally voicing his concerns after watching the boy go at his skin with an inhuman determination for the past half hour. The sight reminding him of a rabid dog infested with fleas. With little care for its own health, left only with the insatiable urge to make the itching stop.

Seungkwan's head snaps up with feral eyes, though they dissolve into cheery crescents quick enough to fool Chan into believing he was just imagining things. Perhaps he'd been a little too on guard around his friend. The sweltering heat surely didn't help his nerves.

"Yeah," he chuckles. "I must've gotten into some poison ivy, it's been driving me mad."

It only got worse.

The scratching.

It keeps Chan awake in the late night hours. That dry sound echoing in his head over and over and over and over. And during the day, despite it being the peak of Summer, Seungkwan wears long sleeves. They do well in muffling the sound and hiding whatever visuals resulted from the night before. Yet, he forgets to scrub the dried blood from under his nails.

There's an unease that settles in Chan's chest and makes a nest there. A feeling that comes in waves, yet never fully leaves him. It consumes his thoughts and taints the air in his lungs until he feels like he may choke on it. Unable to breathe a single word about his worries without accidentally manifesting them into fruition. Because perhaps nothing is awry. Perhaps Chan is the one slowly losing his mind.

After all, you've yet to mention anything. Content with humoring Seungkwan's better moments in spite of his worst.

Perhaps, Chan is still stuck in his mirage.

It happened again.

Seungkwan snapped and this time Chan had to intervene.

Over his garden again.

The once glorious flowers were sad and wilting, through no fault of anyone's, but the elements. The heat was harsh on them and there hadn't been enough rain in a while to revive them. Not to mention, Seungkwan simply hadn't been tending to them as much as he thought he had. He spent most of his days now obsessing over illusions instead.

Swore he saw spiders in the rations. Heard scratching in the walls. Had caught shadows of looters pacing outside at night.

You called it dehydration.

But he'd somehow gotten it into his head you'd been poisoning the soil when he wasn't looking. He swung the front door open so hard it nearly flew off its hinges, yelling obscenities about how you betrayed him. How rotten and horrid you were for killing the one thing that'd given him any semblance of joy. Chan swears he's never seen someone so unhinged as Seungkwan in that moment.

All it took was three large steps in your direction for Chan to brace himself in front of you. However, all it really took to freeze Seungkwan in his steps was his name. Loud and firm. Lighting a clarity in his eyes that's been missing for a few days now. He ushers the boy outside with haste. Too afraid to look back at your crumbling face.

Seungkwan collapses down on the stone steps. He pulls his knees to his chest and digs his palms into his eyes, hard. "I fucked up, didn't I?" He whimpers.

Chan doesn't know what to say. He did. But confirming it when he's in such a state seems cruel. And he doesn't care to twist the knife any further. He just takes a seat next to what's left of his friend and lays a comforting hand on his back.

"I'm scared." Seungkwan's head tips back to the sky. Chan had always been under the assumption that Seungkwan was oblivious to his deteriorating state. But the steady stream of tears down the boy's cheeks says otherwise.

"I can feel my mind slowly becoming not my own."

"Maybe it's not—"

"I already tried telling myself that." Chan's heart sinks as the boy hikes up his sleeves. Revealing the angry red tracks and rust-colored scabs covering a majority of his forearms. Some wounds still look fresh, and painfully deep.

"That's the first symptom, right? Feeling like there's ants under your skin. Being easily irritated. Foggy memories, whole days missing..." He looks ahead at the setting sun. "I'm already seeing things. Was it one or two months the broadcast said the infected have once those start?"

Chan tries to remember back to when his radio crackled to life for the first time. He's pretty sure it's one.

"I can't remember."

Seungkwan pushes a bitter laugh through his nostrils. "Me either."

Chan glances at the sad plot of greenery beside him. He frowns at the way the tulips droop and their petals hang limp. At least those who are still trying to hold on. Desperate to escape the same fate as their counterparts that have already begun decaying into the soil.

He looks back to Seungkwan and wonders what it's like. To have the tulips weep for you. For them to bow their heads and shed their petals like tears. He also wonders if you'll grieve for Seungkwan as gracefully as they do.

"Promise me one thing?" Seungkwan whispers. His eyes already look like they're glazing over again.

"Anything."

He speaks your name with longing. "Take care of them, yeah? I know it seems like they have their shit together, but that's not how it always was."

"What do you mean?" Chan asks, skin crawling. But Seungkwan continues to stare ahead, eyes focused on who knows what in the distance. He blinks slowly, "It's not my story to tell. Just... promise."

"I promise. Don't worry, it's not something you even have to ask."

"The garden, too." His lips lift at the corners. Chan thinks it's a smile, but it's too uncanny to recognize. "If you're taking requests."

He agrees, partly to provide Seungkwan with what little peace of mind he can offer him, but also because he already has been. Chan tries on occasion to care for the sad little plants. Wetting the soil with what little water he can spare.

Part of him naively hoped that maybe somehow, some way, if the garden could be nursed back to its former glory, so could Seungkwan. But deep down, Chan has learned to tell the difference between a dream and reality by now.

And the reality is, Seungkwan reeks of borrowed time.

The world stole your smile when it stole Seungkwan. It ripped his soul from your grasp as Chan held you in his. Kicking and screaming.

Endless tears streaming down his cheeks as he fought to hold you back. Your pleas grew more desperate and wrangled. Mixing with the garbled, wretched, shrieks of your friend. Fingers clawing at his eyes. The virus embedded so deep in his brain he was no longer Seungkwan.

Just another host.

Your voice was the last to call Seungkwan's name that day. Raspy and hollow as you begged for his life. Begged the universe to not take the last ray of sunshine the world had to offer. Begged Seungkwan to fight just one more day. Begged Chan to let you save him despite all hope having set when the sun did. The scratches you'd left on his forearms remained a week after. But the hole Seungkwan's presence left has yet to fade.

Neither of you spoke of the boy in that time. He still doesn't know if that's for better or worse. Chan's terrified you'll shatter if he so much as whispers the boy's name. But to act like he never existed in the wake of it... well, that just doesn't feel right either.

But Chan knows there's no proper way to grieve. He figured that out at the beginning. He'd had damn near a year to mourn everyone he ever loved, you've only had a week. He knows with time, acceptance will come. But it kills him not knowing how to help.

So instead, Chan does the hard stuff.

He buries Seungkwan. Next to his garden, so that next Spring he can watch it grow. He stacks rocks as a makeshift headstone and plucks dried, stiff asphodel from the garden to make it look neat. He rearranges the bookshelf into a tiny shrine of Seungkwan's things. His favorite books he'd read over and over. A silver ring, with some date Chan doesn't know the meaning of carved into it. A liquor bottle that he used as a makeshift vase with the last flowers he picked still in it. Long dead, but the petals somehow still holding on. Replaces one of the bronze picture frames of strangers with a photo he found tucked away in Seungkwan's bag. One of him and two other people he assumes are his parents.

And when he's done, he lights a candle, the flame drawing you out like a moth.

"What is this?" you croak. It's the first you've spoken to Chan since it happened.

"Something to honor him," Chan whispers, keeping his gaze locked on the flickering light. He's too scared to see your reaction. Afraid you'll break down again. Afraid you'll hate it and scream that he has no right to mourn someone you loved for longer. Afraid that if he sees your tears flowing, he won't be able to stop his own.

Because he also knows part of you still resents him for that night. For grabbing your waist and stopping your momentum from hurtling towards Seungkwan. Robbing you of the chance to hold and comfort your friend one last time. Your screams echo in his head as a reminder whenever your gaze refuses to meet his or you shrug away from his touch.

But then your head falls to his shoulder like an olive branch stretching across a battlefield. Your sniffles break through the silence. Chan hesitantly pulls you closer, and when you don't flinch away, he does even more so until your full weight is against him.

When Seungkwan was here, there was rarely a moment of silence. But now, the house, and you, are quiet. And all Chan can hear are the sounds of heartbreak. Never before had he thought it could be so incredibly loud.

The cold air sneaks in sometime around mid-November. Bringing with it longer nights and temperatures low enough to warrant nightly fires again.

You haven't talked much since the night you cried your heart out on Chan's shoulder. Operating more like a zombie replicating past routines from life before. Wake up. Scavenge. Eat. Sleep. So when you offer up the first ounce of interest in something other than your daily routine, Chan nearly jumps out of his skin.

"I miss the ocean," you mumble, solemn eyes looking down at the crackling fire. The tip of your nose red from the chill.

"We can go if you want... If it would make you happy." He says though he'd settle for content. To bring you back, he'd do anything.

You nod. "Yeah, I'd like that."

And Chan makes it happen.

Maps out the closest beach. Rigs up two rusty old bikes he found in a shed. Packs enough provisions just in case. All for the sake of maybe returning with a sliver of the person you used to be.

The two of you easily find the rocky formation looking over the dark sea, waves raging below. It's here, that Chan truly realizes just how much of a shell you've become of your former self. The way you inch closer and closer to the sharp edge is lifeless. Like a magnet being pulled at with no will of your own. It lodges a dagger of dread through the center of his chest.

"Don't go so close, you could slip." Chan doesn't know if you can't hear him over the crashing waves below or if you simply choose not to. But your feet keep moving and Chan's feel cemented to the ground.

"That's close enough!" He calls.

Again, nothing.

Your toes hang over the edge now, hands in your jacket pockets. Raging waves slam against the cliff, reaching up for you. You close your eyes and point your nose to the sky.

Wind rushes around Chan. His shoes slip on the slick rocks below as instinct takes charge of his momentum while his brain remains frozen in panic. His lungs refuse to work until his arm can hook around your torso. Yanking you back with such a force it throws the both of you off balance. It isn't until his back meets solid rock that he finally gasps in a sputtering breath. The dull throbbing is instant, but the full weight of you atop his chest is comforting.

Chan desperately scrambles to collect you in his arms. Pulling your back against his chest so that he can curl around you like a protective barrier from the world.

"I wasn't going to jump." You whisper. But he feels no comfort from your empty words.

"Please don't make me lose you twice." He pleads like a child, rocking you in his grasp. The salty spray from the ocean mixes with his tears until he can't tell what is what. Right now, the only thing he's certain of is the one in his grasp. The feeling of you in his arms, safe, and he doesn't want to ever lose that. Call it selfish if you must. Lee Chan will wear that title proudly.

There's a rush of déjà vu as you crumble, muttering Seungkwan's name between wretched sobs, nails deep in his forearms. Sobbing about how you miss him, how unfair it is, everything you've been holding in since. Chan holds you tighter. Scared you'll slip away like the tide. Like Seungkwan did. Plunged into cold, thrashing darkness.

He prays to whatever merciful forces have forsaken him to please not do the same to you.

It's a silent trip back to the townhouse and you all but collapse from exhaustion the second you're through the door. Dragging yourself over to the couch and immediately curling into a ball. Chan takes the liberty of lighting the fire before sitting down beside you. He opens his arms, and to his surprise, you accept, letting your head fall into his lap. His arm securely drapes over your torso, though you're quick to cradle his hand. Hugging it to your chest so that his palm can feel the rhythmic thumping of your heart.

Chan lets out a long-held sigh, counting each beat like a lullaby. Then focuses on the rise and fall of your chest. Letting the steady swells ease the adrenaline from his system.

For a second, life is okay. Happy, even. Like how it was back before the world ended. Before he broke your heart. When he didn't care about anything except you and passing chemistry.

"I'm scared to lose you." When you say it, it feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. "I always thought maybe, because we'd made it this far, that meant we were somehow immune. That the worst was over for us."

You pause to take a deep breath. But Chan doesn't push, simply thankful you've finally decided to let him shoulder the weight you carry.

"But if Seungkwan can die, that means you can too. Then who do I have?"

"I'd never leave–"

"You can't promise that," you drop to a whisper. Compensating for the waver in your voice. And you're right, he can't. Not in a world as cruel as this.

But he wants to.

"I don't believe in this world anymore. Not after what it did to him."

"Can you believe in me?"

Your answer doesn't come in the verbal form. Nor does it come quickly, which makes Chan think he's officially lost you. But then your fingers thread with his, squeezing in a way that he can only describe as feeling like pure hope.

Chan can't remember when the turning point was. All he knows is that today, months after the ocean, life feels peaceful once more. The Spring breeze is gentle against his skin as he lays in the soft grass with your head on his stomach. Surrounded by the aroma of the newly bloomed tulips that far outshine the rest of the garden.

He doesn't have as nearly green of a thumb as Seungkwan did, but he's proud. The garden is lush, green, and full of life. A little chaotic, but beautiful nonetheless.

Chan had even managed to revive the hydrangeas Seungkwan was so fond of.

You point to clouds with upturned lips, remarking on their resemblance to various animals. It's not the first time he's been lucky enough to catch you smiling in the subsequent months. But he knows to cherish each one more than he once did.

There's still a chill to the spring air and Chan tugs at his sleeves. Ignoring the incessant urge to animalistically claw at his arm. At the itch so deep under his skin, it feels like it's in the bone.

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foxycarnation · 3 months

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woke up in vegas

summary. six tickets to las vegas. two academic rivals. one hopelessly in love with the other. one too many drinks and a drive-through later, he has her family ring on and she has his friendship ring. they're legally married. also, did i mention their parents have been trying to set them up since forever? yeah... yikes

pairing. academic rival! reader x loverboy! l.c warnings. profanity genre. fluff, crack, rivals to lovers, one sided pining a/n. song recc: stupid in love by max ft. yunjin of le sserafim. i regret nothing, blame this fic on katy perry's waking up in vegas.

taglist. @headlockimnida @phenomenalgirl9

chapters

1 -> profiles: the IG gang

2 -> profiles: X who? we only know Twitter

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hcuyk · 10 months

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SYNOPSIS : jeonghan loves you. the happier ending to kidult

PAIRING : daycareworker!jeonghan x genderneutral!reader

GENRES : established relationship, daycare au, angst, fluff, features seventeen as children

WARNINGS : mentions of car accident and child neglect

TEASER WORD COUNT : 329

ESTIMATED WORD COUNT : 7-10k

ESTIMATED RELEASE DATE : within the next week. i lied its coming out when i get time cause why tf is my college doing sm

TAGLIST : lmk if you want to be added!

A/N : this is for kidult jeonghan reaching 1k notes. i love you all

K. COLLECTION [Y.JH] ONE | TWO

Tears began to stream down your face, unable to hold them back, and you were thankful Jeonghan missed it, but when you heard him apologize, you turned around and snapped at him.

“What the hell do you even want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“You had two weeks to talk to me!” you yelled, fighting the loudness of the rain. The stream of tears ran faster down your cheeks as you brought a hand to your forehead, shielding the rain from getting into your eyes.

“I tried!”

“By knocking on my door for an hour straight at two in the fucking morning?! You could’ve called! You have a key!”

“Well it’s not like you tried either—”

“I got hit by a car!” you screamed, storming towards him as the sky reflected your mood. The thunder was just as loud as the pounding in your heart, and the rain poured just as much as your tears. You pushed Jeonghan, and behind him you saw a crack of lightning. Your vision started to blur as you didn’t hold back your sobs, wanting to show him the pain he’d inflicted on you ever since he left.

“I got hit by a car, Jeonghan! What about you? Were you hit by a car?! A truck? Perhaps a plane?” You forced out a manic laugh before continuing. “Wait, no, don’t tell me. Let me guess,-”

“Y/N—”

“-mauled by a bear?”

“I can explain-”

“Tell me I’m goddamn overreacting.” You took a step forward, and instead of pushing him again, you stared, making him look at the pain he created. “Tell me I’m overreacting, Hannie. Look me in my eyes and say it loud and clear.”

“I knew you’d be there for me.”

“I missed you, I needed you-”

“I know.”

“The day I lose you is the day I lose myself.”

“I don’t want you to wake up and realize I’m not the one for you. I don’t want that for us.”

hopefully the svt readers see this 😔

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mymoodwriting · 18 days

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Request for @shlbyholo (yandere Seungcheol) 3.6k, ceo!Seungcheol, yandere behavior, manipulation, non-con, dub-con, female penetration, creampie, possessive behavior, alcohol, manipulation (@starillusion13)

“You asked to see me, sir.”

“Yes. I’m gonna be in a long meeting and wanted some refreshments. Can you get me an iced americano, please? From my favorite cafe.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll take a mocha la-”

“No.”

As far as you could tell this meeting was only between Seungcheol and another gentleman, but obviously both parties had lawyers and other associates present. Seungcheol interrupted his guest, an amused smirk on his face.

“This is my secretary, not yours.” Seungcheol looked back at you with a childish smile. “One iced americano please, and get yourself whatever you want.”

“Yes, sir.”

You bowed and were stepping back when Seungcheol cleared his throat. You immediately froze, looking up when he spoke your name.

“Y/n.” Seungcheol held up a black card. “You’ll need this.”

“Ah, yes, thank you, sir.”

You took the card from Seungcheol and then made your exit. Once the door shut behind you a breath escaped your lips. He would always keep you on edge, even if he didn’t mean to, but maybe he did. You took the card and stepped out of the office to fulfill his request. You knew where his favorite cafe was, and it was a quick little trip. Even though he told you to get something too you couldn’t bring yourself to spend his money. Upon returning you knocked on the conference room door and let yourself in.

There were papers all over the table, and one of the others present was doing some presentation. You paid it no mind and went over to your boss. You placed the coffee within his view and reach, placing a pastry next to it as well. Seungcheol didn’t really eat breakfast, and he shouldn’t be having coffee on an empty stomach either. He glanced back at you with a smile, gesturing for you to come closer. He whispered in your ear, thanking you for the melon bread and asking you to lock the door on your way out. You dismissed yourself and did as you were asked. It wasn’t anything new after all.

As Seungcheol said the meeting was gonna be a few hours, and the last thing he wanted were unnecessary interruptions. If anyone needed anything from him they could go to you and you’d decide whether it was worth bothering him or not. The conference room wasn’t far from the boss’ office, therefore your desk wasn’t that far either. You took your seat, drinking from your water bottle and going over emails, marking what was important, and answering whichever you could. A while later your phone buzzed, Seungcheol asking you to come clean up after him. You did as he asked, once again knocking before letting yourself in.

A few of the others glanced at you, but you paid them no attention. You took the empty cup and wrapper, throwing them in the nearby trash. There was a table set out for refreshments as this was an important meeting after all. You grabbed a glass and poured some water into it, setting it down for Seungcheol and then excusing yourself. At least today was simple and quiet, which made it easier to get through. When the meeting ended you were at the door and greeted everyone as they headed out. Although someone stopped to greet you back, Mr. Choi’s guest.

“Apologies about earlier. I was unaware Mr. Choi was particular about his secretary’s duties.” The man held his hand out to you. “Yoo Minhyun.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Yoo. I’m sorry I was unable to assist you before.”

“It’s understandable. Perhaps I could buy you a coffee sometime.” Mr. Yoo held his card out to you. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“I do mind.” Seungcheol exited the conference room, taking the card and crushing it in his hands. “We’ll be in touch Mr. Yoo, have a good evening.”

Mr. Yoo didn’t say anything more and excused himself. Once he was gone Seungcheol grabbed your arm and pulled you into the conference room.

“Were you flirting with him?”

“No, sir. I was just apologizing for earlier.”

“Earlier? You mean the coffee?” Seungcheol scoffed. “A guy like that can get his own secretary. You didn’t need to apologize for anything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind going forward, sir. Did the meeting go as planned?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

Seungcheol came up to you and took your head in his hands. He brushed his thumbs along your cheek, and you couldn’t do anything but meet his eyes. You could see worry and annoyance in there, his emotions mixed together but both weren’t directed at you. A soft smile appeared on his lips before he leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and gentle, like always.

“You know I hate it when other guys talk to you, especially when they’re not my employees.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I told you to use my name when we’re alone.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Yes you can.” Seungcheol remarked. “Now say it.”

“Seungcheol…”

“Good. You must be hungry, it’s almost lunch time. Let’s go get some food. You can fill me in on my emails.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tsk.”

“Yes, Seungcheol.”

This certainly wasn’t what you imagined a secretary job to be, no one did, but this was way more complicated. You accompanied Seungcheol to lunch at one of his favorite places, going over his schedule for the evening and tomorrow, while also bringing up the important papers and emails he needed to go over. Afterwards you returned to the office, preparing yourself for what came next. You didn’t get to go home until Seungcheol did, and that varied day by day. Sometimes you didn’t sleep much, but the job always kept you alert and ready for anything.

🖤

“Let’s have lunch in the office today.” Seungcheol suggested. “We can order from your favorite place and-”

“Sir!”

You had been out with Seungcheol in the morning for a business meeting and were returning to the office. One of the managers from the marketing department rushed over in a frenzy once you were in the lobby, holding some papers.

“Sir. You need to look over these proposals immediately. We need an answer by noon.”

“Oh?” Seungcheol looked over the papers. “And why wasn’t this on my desk in the morning?”

“Your secretary was asked to pick up the papers in the morning and deliver them to you.”

“What?”

“Your secretary was-”

“Who asked her?”

“I did. She should have-”

“So you asked my secretary to give me some important papers this morning?”

“Yes.”

“And where were you in the morning? Why couldn’t you deliver this yourself? Or have someone from your department do it?”

“Well, your secretary seemed like-”

“My secretary only does what I tell her, understand?”

“Sir-”

“This isn’t a debate.” Seungcheol reached into his jacket pocket and threw a folded up piece of paper at the manager. “That is a copy of my secretary’s contract. You’ll see it states she only does what I ask of her, and doesn’t take on any other tasks from anyone else in my company.”

“I…”

“Y/n, could you take these papers to the marketing department and let them know I’ll be by after lunch to sign proposal number two, and that they may proceed with it in the meantime.”

“Yes, sir.”

You took the paperwork and excused yourself, grateful you didn’t have to be present for what came next. Either Seungcheol would chew out the manager in front of everyone or fire him on the spot, all cause of you. Truth was, that copy of your contract Seungcheol threw wasn’t what you signed at all. After university you had been bouncing from one interview to another, hoping to land a good job. When you were offered a position at Choi Inc. you were overjoyed. You read the contract front to make multiple times from excitement, happy to sign. On your first day you were eager to meet your boss, but when you saw who it was your heart sank a bit.

You had met Seungcheol back in uni, and he was a jerk. He and his little crew used to pick on the other students in class, and he seemed to like messing with you in particular. You didn’t even know his name back then, only what his friends called him, Scoups. You were lucky he was a year above you, so after he graduated your last year was way more peaceful. At first you thought maybe he didn’t recognize you so this was all just some coincidence, but you soon realized that wasn’t the case.

The moment he was alone with you he mentioned your university days, and how he missed you once he graduated. You acted friendly, he was your boss after all, and you hoped he wouldn’t bring up his behavior, but of course he did. He told you how cute it was to make you squirm, knowing it was all because of him. He asked how often you dreamed about him, but you didn’t answer. You didn’t remember university with him as a good time. Honestly now that you thought about it you weren’t even sure how he graduated. Still, you weren’t sure how you felt about this so you had to ask.

“Sir, may I ask a question?”

“You can call me Seungcheol when we’re alone.”

“Right…” You took a moment. “Did you hire me based on my qualifications, or because you knew me?”

“Ah, you don’t think you’re good enough for the role?”

“I made it past the first two interviews, which I’m sure you had nothing to do with, but surely before making a final decision you recognized me. So I can’t help but wonder if I-”

“Does it matter? As my secretary you know I’ll pay you well, and you know your chances of getting another job like this if you quit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t play coy. You know who I am now, and the power I hold. By all means quit. I can stop by whatever convenience store or gas station you work at after this everyday.”

“…”

“You really can’t be picky about a job like this. It’s your dream, isn’t it?”

“… why… why me? Why are you-”

“It’s the same reason as back then. Don’t you know the saying, guys always pick on the girls they like the most. We’ve both grown past that now. So then, are you gonna quit?”

“… no, sir…”

“At a girl. You were always special to me, and now I can protect you properly. Come on, busy day today.”

You wanted to believe his words were true, that what happened in university was in the past. He had been more of an annoyance than a bully, and he claimed to like you, but that didn’t sit well with you at all. Still, perhaps the job wouldn’t be that bad. As a secretary you wouldn’t do much for him besides be a mediator, so you thought there wouldn’t be excessive interaction, but you were wrong. You were always at Seungcheol’s side, and made sure to isolate you from the rest of the company. Many thought you were sleeping with him, rumors going around behind your back, but what could you do.

It wasn’t until Seungcheol caught one of his employees reprimanding you for messing something up that he brought out that copy of your contract. That’s when you knew he really had you in the palm of his hand. You looked into Seungcheol’s claims, finding a very different contract with your signature on it. You couldn’t let this slide so you confronted Seungcheol about it, and all he did was laugh.

“Didn’t you read your contract?”

“I fucken did! I know what I read and this isn’t it! This is basically a fucken slave contract!”

“You’re my secretary and nothing more. No one else should be giving you orders in my company. What’s the problem?”

“Everyone is already talking shit behind my back and then you pull a stunt like this? What do you think they’re gonna say now? I’m basically your escort on payroll.”

“Ya! Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“I quit! I’ll have my resignation on your desk before the end of the day.”

“I won’t accept it.”

“That’s your problem.”

“No, it isn’t. You’re not leaving.”

Before you could exit the office Seungcheol had caught up to you, pulling you away from the door and locking it. He stared you down, starting to chip away at your courage.

“I let you focus on your studies senior year, holding myself back from seeing you. When your resume appeared on my desk it was fate. You were meant to be here and work for me, so I’m not just gonna let you leave now.”

“You think I want to be here? You’re making my life difficult.”

“And is it all over the news? No, cause I am taking care of it, taking care of you. The people here can talk all they want but they don’t know anything. It’s just me and you balancing our lives and work.”

“This isn’t fair to me. I get no say in-”

“I know you want me. That’s how I knew who you were. I caught you staring at me from time to time, such curiosity and desire in those eyes. If I started paying you attention I figured things would develop on their own, but I underestimated how good of a girl you were. You never raised your voice or gave me anything to work with, just focused on school. I admired that, so I let you be, knowing our time would come. So here we are now.” Seungcheol took your hand in his, giving it a kiss. “I’m not gonna let you go when you came right to me. Do you understand?”

“… sir…”

“Seungcheol.”

“… what if I quit…”

Seungcheol chuckled. “You think I’m gonna let you go that easily? You’re here for me, you work for me, you’re mine. Just be happy and let me take care of you. Cause you’re not going anywhere. Understood?”

“… yes…”

“Good. And I don’t want to hear this kinda talk again.”

“…”

“Answer me.”

“Understood.”

“Tsk.”

“Yes, Seungcheol.”

“That’s my girl.”

There really wasn’t a way out for you. If you wanted to leave you should have done that the second you found out who your boss was, but by staying you gave him the wrong idea, you let him sink his fangs in, so trying to escape now meant death. You couldn’t even fathom what he could do, but you were certain he could do anything. So you held your head high and continued on. He never hurt you, never insulted you, never did anything to make people think he was an asshole to you. He was so professional at work, but it was only behind closed doors that he was something else.

You don’t know when he really started being affectionate, but at some point he gained the courage. He’d give you longing looks, flirt with you on the down low, then he started placing kisses whenever you had a moment alone. You never said anything, what could you say, or do to stop him. In his mind you were certain he thought of you two as a couple, a hidden office romance, whereas you were just trying to survive. It got easier overtime. You didn’t socialize with coworkers, and Seungcheol wasn’t an ass. Despite the unwanted undertones, life was bearable, and you’d get caught up in everything too, forgetting what was so bad about work.

🖤

“Coming.”

You were getting ready for bed when you heard a knock at your door. You weren’t really expecting anyone this late, but you knew you had a few packages that were supposed to be delivered. With that in mind you went to open the door without question, surprised by what you found on the other side.

“Sir? What are you-”

“There aren’t any guys here, are there?”

“Uh…”

“You’re not allowed to bring men over to your place.”

Seungcheol pushed his way into your apartment, taking his shoes off and looking around. The smell of alcohol suddenly hit you and you realized what was going on.

“Sir-”

“Tsk. How many times do I have to tell you to use my name?”

“What are you doing here Seungcheol? I smell alcohol so you must be drunk, did you drive here?”

“No, no, I didn’t want to go home so I told my driver to bring me here. This place is pretty nice. How come you haven’t invited me over before?”

“I can drive you home. I don’t mind at all.”

“Don’t be silly, I came here for a reason.”

Seungcheol found your room, immediately laying on your bed and burying his face in your pillow. He seemed so content.

“I like this. We should spend more time here.”

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you. I wanted to surprise you.”

“This is unnecessary.”

“You know, you’re such a mystery to me sometimes.” Seungcheol got up and walked over to you. “I’m every girl’s wet dream. Handsome, rich, powerful, and yet you deny me over and over.”

“…”

“I just want to be your dream. I want to be yours.”

“…”

“Tell me, honestly, do you not want me?”

Seungcheol grabbed your chin and forced you to meet his eyes. It was hard to hold his gaze, especially when you weren’t at work. His eyes shined, and in moments like this you could remember why you had a crush on him back in the day. You couldn’t respond to Seungcheol though, and your silence was an answer itself. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, wrapping an arm around your waist. You didn’t want to kiss back, but something else took hold in the moment. Perhaps the alcohol on his lips were having an effect.

“Good girl.”

Seungcheol brought you over to your bed and laid you down, kissing you hard and stripping you out of your clothes. Since you had been getting ready for bed and were in your pajamas you didn’t have a bra, which brought a smile to Seungcheol’s face. He massaged your breasts, getting a moan out of you. He kissed you again, and this time you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back.

“You’re drunk.”

“I only had a few, but I assure you I want to do this. Of course if you want me to stop, I will.”

“…”

“That’s what I thought.”

Seungcheol took off his shirt, letting you feel him up. You hadn’t been this close to him before, starting to wonder if maybe you were the drunk one here. He went back to kissing at your neck, letting your hands go wherever they wanted. Although he didn’t have much patience for your naive act. He pulled down his pants before slipping his hand between your legs, rubbing you through your panties. You whimpered, grabbing his hand but not really stopping him. He started whispering in your ears, telling you to be a good girl and let him take control.

Next thing you knew he pushed your panties aside, his cold fingers against your folds. You tensed up a bit but he told you to relax, pushing your legs apart. From there his fingers could reach deeper and without warning he pushed one into you. He loved watching you squirm, seeing how just one of his fingers was making you dance. He wanted to prep you well, taking his time to work you over to three fingers, seeing just how much you liked it. He had been patient up till now, wanting to claim what was his. He distracted you with another kiss as he pushed your legs apart a bit more, making himself comfortable.

Your eyes went wide as you felt something poking you between your legs, but before you could say something Seungcheol captured your lips again, getting you to moan into his mouth as he stretched you open. He had to admit you took him so well, whimpering and squirming and adjusting to his size, but not one complaint came from your mouth. He couldn’t sit still, feeling how you squeezed him in made him move, catching you off guard once more. Perhaps he had experience, or it was just luck, but every thrust hit your sweet spot, making you see white and whimper from the overwhelming feeling.

“Seungcheol…”

“Now you say my name, huh? You sound really pretty.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Seungcheol did his thing, wanting to keep your moans to a minimum, but he wanted to hear every little sound. You could tell when you were close, feeling this burning sensation down below, trying to let Seungcheol know but all that came out of you was nonsense. He understood though, well on his way to climax as well, getting slowly and rougher with his movements. You fell over the edge first, squeezing him tightly which pushed him to climax. The warm feeling between your legs was new, but not unwelcomed. Seungcheol kept moving his hips erratically, trying to make this feeling last for as long as possible before collapsing on top of you. His hot breath was against your ear, making you quiver all the more. He stayed inside you, wanting to remain like this for a while longer.

“You did so good, baby.” Seungcheol mumbled. “We should do this more often.”

“Hm…”

“Ya, could I put a baby in you? Maybe you won’t be so mean when you’re a mom.”

“Don’t say shit like that…”

“It would make you all the more mine.”

“Just be quiet…”

“Hm, you’re right, gotta go to work tomorrow. Sleep well, love.”

“Yeah, yeah, sleep well…”

“I definitely will.”

57 notes · View notes

deathbyseventeen · 1 year

Text

As the World Caves In (Ending)

pairing: Dino/Chan x f!reader

genre: post-apocalyptic, romance/fluff, angst | zombie!au

word count: ≅3.4k

series: To be Together

chapter warnings: allusions & talk death, weapons (the knifebrella & a gun), violence (defending self from zombies), oh and blood and references to body parts and viscera (not descriptive though)

summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.

a/n: hello again :) the ending is here! apologizes for the wait. but if you’re just seeing this fic now... maybe take a chance and start from the beginning? :)) links are right there below. oh boy oh boy oh boy

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{intro} + {3 days since the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end}

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a month since the end

Chan struggles to breathe from under the bundle of blankets you’d wrapped around him as if the combination of hoodies, coats, and scarves he was wearing (something you’d insisted on, he remembers) were nothing more but a pair of swimming trunks. In a span of a couple of days, the temperature dropped drastically, and though it had yet to snow, the river had already frozen over. Guilt gnawed at him as he watched you carefully step onto the center of the river, a simple beanie and coat to fight off the bitter cold, while you tried to get a good look at the surroundings.

He understood that he was still sick, though not as bad as he was before. Still, he wished you would let him be the one to catalog the locations and amount of zombies around. He hadn’t moved from the spot where you’d helped him sit down inside a service closet the two of you had found underneath the river’s bridge. You were meters away, far enough that he couldn’t really tell what face you were making but not far enough to where he couldn’t see that you were trembling in your boots.

Sometimes, when the sun went down, he swore the mild fever he still had was giving him hallucinations. At this moment, however, he knew it wasn’t just his imagination that was making you shake.

He wished he could call you back, urge you to turn around, and return to him.

It felt like an eternity before you made your careful way back across the iced river to him and let the door close all but an inch or two with a brick. You sat down across from him, dragging the duffle bag where you’d stuffed the night’s supplies to you with a hand.

A sleeping bag, the cans of food that would be dinner tonight, two water bottles, two flasks, and two trash bags. He reached for the bottle of medicine you pulled out then.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him as you opened the cans of food, waiting for him to swallow the syrup.

“Better,” he croaked, then cleared his throat.

“Maybe we should look for something stronger,” you suggested, holding out a can of salmon for him.

“No,” he shook his head. “I am getting better. This’ll go away, I know.”

“Alright.” You relent.

The two of you ate in silence, only sharing the sound of your spoons scraping against the insides of the cans.

Chan would have preferred conversation, the silence between the two of you felt too much like a wall was being built between the two of you, but his sore throat prevented any attempt from his side.

Even after you finished eating and began to unfurl the sleeping bag and arrange an even bigger pile of blankets around it, he continued to eat in silence. The rock he felt in his throat forced him to eat languidly, almost entirely focused on pushing the food down his throat.

But by the time he finished, he’d had enough, and the words left him before he could think them through.

“You told the others where we were going, right?”

Chan watched you still for a moment and squeeze your eyes shut. Almost immediately, he regretted what he’d said and cursed himself for not stopping and thinking of something better to say. You had yet to say anything or turn to look at him, but he could still read the words running through your head from a single corner of one of your eyelids. ‘For the hundredth time.’ Then they shot open--you wouldn’t say that to him-- and you turned to him.

“Yes, Chan. I told them, as best I could, the general direction we’d be taking toward your hometown.”

“Okay,” he croaked, a bright red blush settling on his cheeks.

He managed a couple of seconds of renewed silence, toying with the seam of his pants before grabbing one of the trash bags.

“I’m going to go to use the bathroom outside.”

“Here.” You held out a roll of toilet paper. “Try not to stay out too long, or you’ll get sick again.”

He mumbled out a thanks as he grabbed the roll and shuffled outside the fastest he could.

Without the armada of blankets encompassing him in a cocoon of warmth, a gust of cold December wind chilled him to the bone and froze him just outside the door. He trembled, gaze stuck on the horizon with tears pricking at his eyes. Then the wind settled, and he was able to look away, blinking away the tears as he left the enclave.

☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡

Chan traced circles into your arms later that night. Much like earlier, you had yet to say anything to him, choosing to arrange your supplies while you waited for him to get ready for sleep. There was only one sleeping bag and it had come with a series of compromises. While you’d attempted to get him to use the bag for himself, he refused until the two of you wound up pressed together inside. Even then, you refused to sleep inside until he was already under it. So he slipped in first, and you zipped shut the bag.

Tonight, though he was sure you were upset with him, changed nothing. You slipped into the bag after him, silently, zipping it shut enough around the two of you that you could still pull the blankets at the front of the sleeping bag over you two. Then, laid down, half on top of Chan with one hand resting on his shoulders and the other at his side.

He couldn’t sleep.

Even with a hand clutched around you, he was uneasy.

Words accumulated at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t find a way to say them.

It wasn’t until he felt your breath even out that the words managed to slip past his lips.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I don’t mean to keep asking you. I just…” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I don’t like the silence. I keep thinking about them, and I start to worry they’re already dead.”

His heart raced at the admission, and he let out a shuddering breath as he tried to calm down. He did, eventually, and when that finally happened, he shifted so he was able to place a kiss on the crown of your head.

He had just closed his eyes when he felt you shift and brush your own lips across the underside of his jaw.

☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡

Your fingers toyed with the inside of his pant pocket, encompassed in the warmth of a heat pack you’d found in the maintenance room you’d slept in days before.

“Now, if I were a sporting store, where would I hide?” Chan whispered into your ears as the two of you walked down a block of stores.

The streets were zombie-free, and it unnerved him. He wondered if you had noticed the eerie loneliness of the streets or if you had managed to ignore it in favor of a prettier image.

“Running a few laps around the block, I imagine.” You answered, giving his hand a squeeze before returning to your ministrations on his fingers.

“Perhaps they’d like to break so we can have a chat.”

You hummed. “Maybe. Would you like to call out to it instead? See if it comes?”

He laughed.

With an added bounce to your step, you started to hum under your breath. Chan was sure that if it’d been warmer, you’d have--

You slipped your hand out of his pocket, pulling his hand and the hot pack along with yours, and swung them. He smiled. It was an innate reaction, and in the end, the only thing he could have done that wouldn’t break the spell you’d cast over yourself.

The two of you continued to walk like that for what seemed like an eternity to Chan. The sun had long past reached its highest point in the sky for the day. It would only take another couple of hours before it would begin to set, and the sporting goods store was yet to be found. Just how many times had the two of you gone in circles? He was sure he’d seen that ravaged kiosk of cell phone cases at least fifty times. (And still, no zombies anywhere in sight.)

His thoughts strayed toward the stolen-- he frowned, though he knew it was now inconsequential-- car the two of you had found in one of the university’s parking structures. If he had managed to count correctly, the car was at least ten blocks down the street you’d come from, a mile or more so away.

Lost in thought, he missed the moment you stopped humming and swinging your intertwined hands.

“How long do you think it’ll take us to find it?” It was faint, hardly louder than the gusts of wind that brushed past the two of you every now and again. But it was enough to pull him out of his preoccupations and startle him into flinching.

“What?” He swallowed. “The sports store? I know it’s already taken us too long--”

“No,” you interrupted, “I mean, how long do you think it’ll take us to find the safe zone?”

“The safe zone?”

“What if it’s not even a safe zone anymore? What if it’s moved?”

“Wait. Wait.” He pulled you to a stop. “What? Y/N, you can’t-- you shouldn’t be thinking about those things.”

“Chan, our only goal is to get to safety. To get to the safe zone. But what do we do if it’s not real anymore.”

He shook his head. “Y/N, our only goal right now is to find that store.” He grabs you by the shoulders, leaving the hot pack in your hands, “We need a tent. We need to find food. We need to get back to the car. We find shelter for the night. We need to find my brothers.”

“And then?”

“And then we find safety.”

☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡

“How much longer do you think we have?” You ask Chan as the two of you speed walk down a pathway that leads to a hidden street.

A single directory station the two of you had stumbled upon by chance hours after he’d reassured you had shown you the location of the store you looked for.

“Not long,” he frowns. “Maybe an hour, hour and a half, if we’re lucky. What do you think?”

“An hour,” you agreed, then nudged his shoulder and nodded to the sky. “Maybe less.”

In the distance, beyond the grove of trees you were walking through, a patch of sky was visible. While most of the sky was a chilly blue, the horizon was starting to turn a warm orange, with bits of pink starting to bleed into the blue.

“Maybe less,” Chan agreed.

“It should be around here somewhere,” Chan murmured as the two of you reached the end of the path.

The two of you stood at the end of the grove, taking in the wide, dead-end street it opened into. Then your eyes fell on the elusive sporting store you’d been looking for.

You gripped Chan by the forearm, a grin overtaking the tired expression on your face.

“Come on,” Chan nodded. “We have to hurry.” Then he took off running, and you set off after him, nipping at his heels.

From far away, the rows of stores looked like they were perfect recreations of pictures of a miniature model shopping district. Both of you could have sworn that its windows were glittering from the sunlight, that you could see glare streaks across the glass. But the closer the two of you got, the quicker the little details started to come into focus.

Like the other stores, the sports store’s front windows had been smashed through completely. Its glass rested on the floor in front of the store like grains of sand, forcing you to a stop.

“We don’t really have a choice, do we?” You mumbled.

“No,” Chan agreed. “Follow me.”

Chan walked alongside the front of the store, looking for a space where the glass hadn’t fallen. Finding none, he stopped at the edge of the store and pointed at the corner of the window sill.

“We’re going to have to stretch as far as we can to get inside. I’ll go first and give you a hand.”

His hands were freezing when he grabbed yours and pulled you inside, but it was the temperature inside the store that made a shiver run down your spine. Then, as the two of you turned to step inside, the two of you froze as if you’d suddenly been hit by a cold snap.

Deeper inside, where the sunlight was quickly receding, blood splattered the floor and clothing racks. Corpses, complete or not, laid one on top of another, all of them heading deeper into the store. The sunlight didn’t reach deeper inside, but you didn’t need to see deeper inside to imagine the corpses and body parts that were probably strewn around.

“They probably took refuge here.”

“Yeah,” you choked out.

While the undead terrified you, it came as a terrifying realization that you had managed to ignore all of the corpses and body parts that you’d run into before. Images of the day the world ended came flashing back. The people pounding on the gym’s windows, the undead behind them, the viscera on the way to the stadium, and the random body parts and trails of blood throughout the city. You’d managed to ignore it all. That was so… unsafe.

“Y/N,” Chan called to you, “Y/N. Y/N, I need you to focus. Look at me. Y/N, look at me.”

He forced you to turn and look at him, though you were trembling nonstop. He didn’t know if you were listening, if you were even here. You had a hazy look in your eyes that made the apprehension he felt intensify tenfold.

“We’ve only got a little while to find everything we need, but we’re going to have to split up. Are you okay with that?”

You shook for a moment longer, and Chan was sure he was going to have to pull you along. Then you nodded.

“Don’t think about it. Just ignore it.”

You nodded again.

“I’ll go this way.” He waved a hand to the stairwell against the wall. “And you can go that way,” he nodded to the rest of the store behind you. “Do you remember what we need?”

“A-A tent. Tarp. Duffle bags. Trash bags.” You began.

“A solar-powered portable heater and a solar-powered power generator if we can find any. More blankets and thermal clothes.” He finished.

“O-Okay.” With a single, short kiss goodbye, the two of you split.

The store, without its fluorescent lights and customer-created white noise, was disorienting to say the least. You were already living a nightmare, but this made you feel like you were taking part in a horror movie. It felt as if death was waiting for you just a couple of steps ahead, just out of sight, hidden in the darkness.

Your vision adjusted quickly, though it didn’t stop you from wishing you had a flashlight. Thankfully, finding thermal clothes and duffle bags were an easy find, and you stuffed as many as you could into your duffle.

“Generators. Heaters. Tents,” you mumbled under your breath, taking care to keep focused (and not look at the floor) as you made yourself venture deeper into the store.

“Flashlights,” you murmured in relief when you saw some.

“Generators. Heaters. Tents.” You began to repeat again like a mantra.

While the flashlight was a relief, it made it harder to dismiss the streaks of blood on the floor and splattered onto the merchandise.

You were approaching the back half of the store, when between boxes of shoes and workout equipment when you felt the world freeze around you.

Pools of dried blood stained the floor under their undead feet, and the stench of decay permeated the air. You gagged, hands flying to cover your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself from crying out as you backed away.

Unaware of the steps you were taking, you slipped on a patch of fresher blood. You yelped as you lost your balance, and if that weren’t enough, you took down a display of shoe spray.

The result was instant. It was almost like they were machines by the way their heads snapped up as if they’d just been powered on.

You screamed as they turned around, glazed eyes training on you as you scrambled to get up. They lurched forward and you backward.

Finally, on your feet, you raced in the opposite direction, feet following the path you had taken to get there in the first place. You were nearing the stairwell when you caught sight of Chan stumbling down it, a horde of his own zombies after him.

“Run!” He yelled when he saw you. “Get out! Run! Hurry!”

The glass outside was inconsequential as you ran, even as you fell and it dug itself into your hands.

In the light of the setting sun, you could nearly delude yourself into thinking you were hallucinating.

Behind you, though, Chan fired a gun at the horde.

Your nonstop screams only added to the chaos around him.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” He spit as he missed his mark yet again.

Though he wanted to take out his knifebrella, he accepted that it would be futile against the horde after the two of you. Realizing he was getting nowhere, he took off running behind you.

“Through the grove!” He yelled, narrowly avoiding the hand reaching for him.

The sun set as the two of you ran through the grove, stumbling over raised blocks of cement and fallen branches. You’d taken two steps outside before you were almost killed, and a bright light enveloped your forms, a screeching of tires forcing you to a stop.

“Chan!” Someone yelled.

“Get inside! Hurry!” A second, deeper voice yelled, and a moment later, a flatter screeching sounded above the groans of the undead.

When neither of you moved (Chan too stunned at the appearance of his friends), one of the owners of the voices jumped out from the light and grabbed the two of you, pulling into the light and--

You blinked. A long, yellow school bus rested before you.

“Seungcheol. Jeonghan.” Chan finally spoke. You could tell he was trying to keep his composure, but as he said their names, his voice faltered.

“In. In,” Seungcheol insisted, pushing you inside.

Jeonghan smiled thinly, unshed tears lining his eyes, “I told you I’d find him.”

“My apologies.” Seungcheol huffed and after ushering the two of you past Jeonghan, pulled a lever at the base of the driver’s seat to close the doors.

“Move!” A third voice suddenly yelled. “They’re coming!”

“Seungkwan!”

“If we die, I’m killing you first, you martyring bastard!”

“Everyone sit down!” Seungcheol ordered the lot as the bus lurched forward.

You gasped as you fell onto one of the seats, catching only a brief glance at who you guessed was Seungkwan.

“How did you even find us?” Chan asked when he stood up again.

Jeonghan, leaning against the seat across from you, lifted a book into the air. “The XXXX Updated Travel--”

“You used a travel guide?!” Disbelief was all you could really feel.

“You must be Y/N.”

You nodded.

“I’m Jeonghan. It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for taking care of Chan again.”

You shook your head, “He took care of me.”

“Wait. Wait.” Chan interrupted moving up to stand beside you, behind Seungcheol’s driving seat. “Where are we going?”

“To find the others.”

“We’ve got to go back.”

“What?” Seungcheol snapped.

Chan pointed southeast of the way Seungcheol was driving. “We need to go back. To our car. We need our things!”

“Your things?!”

“We had food!” Chan snapped. “Medecine. Bandages. Clothes. Supplies!”

“This better be worth it,” Seungcheol snapped, jerking the wheel for a right turn.

“I’ll tell you when we’re close.”

Satisfied, Chan plopped down and turned to look at you. Finally taking in your appearance, his eyes widened.

Your smile was wobbly at best. “I take it you didn’t find any of the things we needed? I found the du-duffle bags and c-clothes.”

He stood up, and though you couldn’t see his mouth, you knew it was hanging open.

“It’s--It’s not my blood.”

Wordlessly, he threw his arms around you and hugged you. After a while, you thought he was letting you go to sit down again, but rather than that, he leaned into you to give you a long kiss.

“Oh,” Jeonghan said from the other seat, “Interesting. Very interesting.”

Chan sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Turn left here.”

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fin | masterlist

24 notes · View notes

itssunshinetoday · 7 days

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★Videocall with your long-distance boyfriend, Wonwoo

337 notes · View notes

thepixelelf · 2 years

Text

and the universe said,

When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren't -- and that's before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

genres: comedy disguised as romance and romance disguised as comedy, soulmate au, technically an alternate universe but they're still idols, fluff, angst?, short chapters

relationship(s): SVT ot13 x reader

warnings: 18+ (there will be no smut but perhaps suggestive parts and multiple references to/jokes about sex and I honestly just don't feel comfy with minors reading my writing of that stuff sorry). coarse language. everybody's a little bit very stupid. individual chapters will have their own warnings

01 "you are not alone"

02 "fuck you and your interview"

03 "this day will make the you of tomorrow"

04 "it won't make sense"

05 "trust no one"

interlude i

06 "take it slow"

07 "bro, chill"

chapter 08 status: tbd

have a question about atus updates? check the frequently asked questions tag first please!

new chapters are not on a schedule nor guaranteed. there will be no taglist. thank you for reading!

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wondernus · 5 months

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THE FIANCÉ | chapter four

— THE FIANCÉ

a/n: is chan back? or is it pi cheolin pretending to be chan? who knows? one more chapter left! I hope you are all enjoying this mini series - nu ♡

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leewonkyeom · 8 months

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bad idea | lee chan

☆ pairing: lee chan x gn!reader

☆ synopsis: seeing your ex behind your friends back, it's a bad idea, right?

☆ genre: one-shot smau, angst

☆ warnings: implied 18+ content, swearing

based on bad idea, right by olivia rodrigo because i just love the guts album

main masterlist

☆ a/n: figured it was about time to post this🤧 i genuinly have so many ideas for smaus, but not a lot for one-shots😭 and i love writing them👀 so if anyone has some suggestions...

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asterrrific · 5 months

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lee chan x reader

Idk what to title this

Dino x reader (ft. 95z)

Warnings: none, just loads of fluff

unedited so i apologize for any grammatical errors or whatever. i made this bc a sudden idea came to me🥹

---

It was around 1am when y/n felt herself sway in her seat.

Books, answersheets, pens, sticky notes, her laptop, and a variety of snacks to keep her awake but failed were scattered at desk. It was the last week of the first semester and she's trying to rush all of her academic backlogs.

Such is the life of a senior student leader with other commitments. Always the last to catch up with academic requirements and classes because of her duties.

She shook herself awake, forcing her hand to continue writing. Her eyes were drooping, but she persevered.

"Get it together, y/n. One last chapter THEN you can go to bed." she willed herself.

But she's been staying up for weeks now. Dark circles are more than evident under her eyes. She's lost weight as well, and she's been easily stressed nowadays.

So it was hard to battle sleep.

"Bub?" came a familiar voice. Normally, she'd get excited and awake whenever she hears the endearment, but tonight, she's a dead man.

Chan cups her cheeks gently, stilling her from swaying in her seat as she battled sleep. His eyes strayed to her paper, words not evident, but random squiggles she perhaps thought were answers.

"Baby, you're not even writing answers anymore." He chuckles lightly as he takes away the pen from her hand. Y/n tries to grab it back... weakly.

"No, I can make it... I'm almost thereeee." she whines, eyes half closed, trying to reach for her pen. Chan keeps one hand on her cheek while the other puts the pen away.

"Y/N Baby, it's been three weeks. You've been busy since the start of the month. Your body is probably hating you right now. Let me take care of you please?" Chan gently prods, almost whispering.

Y/n and Chan's friends have all been concerned about her state. She's NEVER had decent sleep since the start of the month, BARELY eats her meals and snacks on time, and RARELY goes out with them.

It worried them so much that even Chan excuses himself from practices earlier than the rest now so he could monitor y/n.

"But I need all these. I wanted all these." she counters.

"I know, bub, and I appreciate that and I'm so so proud of you... but what's the whole point of achieving all these if you're gonna lose yourself in the process, hmm?"

At this, y/n's eyes flutter open, now aware of where this is going.

She knows damn well that he's right. But she just can't help but panic sometimes, knowing that the rest of her classmates have already submitted theirs and she's probably the last one left, although she's been given a grace period.

"Let's go to bed, please? It's already Sunday. We can sleep in. You can get some rest, and I'll be with you since we won't have practice. We can do anything you want except these academics. Please, baby? Have time for yourself too?" Chan barters. He tries his best at making puppy eyes at y/n, hoping his aegyo would work on her like it does with his hyungs.

Y/n sighs as she leans her forehead on Chan's. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his nose gently on to hers, then giving it a small kiss later.

"Whatchu think, bub? Like my proposal?"

"Fine, you win. But only because I'm so so drained now. How do you do it, Channie? How do you get things done and not get guilty and tired at all?" she asks, eyes closed.

"Who told you I don't get tired and guilty? I do. I just don't show it that much." He admits.

"Why though?"

"Because I don't want to worry any of you guys."

Y/N looks at Chan, his eyes on hers, his hands finding their way back to her cheek.

"I've learned to handle myself earlier on because of the nature of my career. And the hyungs helped me a lot too. If you'll allow me, I can help you work that out as well. Because I love you and I am concerned and I want to take care of you the way you derserve to." he lovingly explains.

Y/n smiles sleepily, allowing her whole body to lose its tension. She drops forward to surrender to Chan, who giggles on the floor as he catches her.

"There's my baby girl." he coos, as he sits up, caressing her hair carefully. She snuggles closer to him.

"Oh my God, I've been craving this for a whole week. I really DO deserve this." she exclaims, making Chan laugh lovingly.

He adjusts to carry her towards their shared bedroom in y/n's apartment. Gently, he lays her down before climbing in after her. Y/n immediately attaches herself to him the minute he settles in.

Chan lets y/n lay her head on his chest. He showers her head with little kisses while he rubbed random shapes on her back, lulling her to sleep.

"We'll talk more in the morning bubs. Get some rest, hmm?" Chan says, grabbing a blanket to tuck them both in.

"Mmkay..." y/n sleepily agrees.

Chan was about to close his eyes when his phone rings. A call.

"Hello-?"

"WHERE'S THE UPDATE, CHILD? IT'S BEEN TEN MINUTES. ARE YOU HOME YET?" comes Seungcheol's prodding voice. Apparently, because of his worry for Y/N, Chan forgot to update his hyungs who were still probably hanging out together after practice.

"Sorry, hyung." Chan fumbles, as he sets the call on video, showing y/n on his chest, hoping it'd serve as an explanation.

"You got us worried here you know? How can we have ber when- Oh my God, am I seeing this correctly?" asks the older male.

Chan chuckles as he brings the phone back to his face.

"Yep. She almost fell from her seat when I came in. That's why I wasn't able to call. Sorry."

"No, it's okay. What's important is she's getting rest now goddamn... she's hard to take care of sometimes. Proud of you for being patient with her, Lee Chan." Seungcheol salutes from the other side.

"Did I hear right?" Comes Jeonghan's voice as he and Joshua comes into the picture. The three eldest are like real brothers to Chan and even y/n. They worry for them like real siblings would, that's why Chan can always go home earlier than the rest, so he can care for y/n too.

And when y/n is with them, they surround her protectively, along with the other members especially when they're out, since fans can get really pushy sometimes.

"Finally, she's getting sleep. I hope tomorrow we can go out too." Joshua sighs.

"Nope. I promised her we can sleep in and we'll do whatever we want- except those freaking acads."

"Then maybe we could go there instead? We'd bring snacks for her and whatever else she needs. Tell her in the morn-"

Joshua and the other boys stop when they all saw y/n stir in her sleep. Chan immediately caressed her hair to lull her back.

"Channie?" she blinks, trying to lift herself away from him. The boys on the screen signal him to end the call and just message instead but y/n sees them.

"Oh..." she starts as her eyes adjust to the screen.

"Heyyy, y/n! We were just checking in. Go back to sleep." Seungcheol smiles.

Still really tired and sleep drunk, y/n hums. Chan smiles as he helps her lie back down.

"We'll message tomorrow Chan. Get some sleep too. It's been a long day." Seungcheol orders, his leadership shining through the older brother figure that Chan sees in him.

Chan does a salute as the call ends. He puts the phone on dnd on the bed side table and snuggles lower to cuddle with y/n, already going deeper in her sleep.

---

The next morning, Chan wakes up first. Y/N is no longer on him, but is still asleep soundly next to his chest. Her arms wrapped around his middle while her legs tangled with his. He blinks as rays of light sneaks through the blinds, and smiles as his eyes start to focus on the sleeping beauty next to him.

Gently, he carefully carressed her face, using his finger to trace out her freckles that he loved.

Y/n hums and stirs, and Chan freezes for a second. Slowly like a cat basking in daylight, she stretches, hitting Chan's chin on the process.

This was enough to wake her up.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry Channie." she goes, caressing the spot she just hit.

Chan laughs it off as he catches her hands, kissing them both gently.

"It's good morning first before that, my love." He says, pulling her close and settling his lips to the top of her head. With a contented sigh, he inhales her scent like his morning coffee.

"Good morning, bub." she giggles. It was music to his ears.

"Good morning, bub. How was your sleep?" He asks, brushing her hair away from her face and tucking strays behind her ear.

"It was good. Really good. I think I dreamed of the oppas..."

Chan laughs loudly at this, his laugh tickling y/n's ears. God, how she loved his laugh.

"It wasn't a dream, my love. They called last night and you saw them." he explains, pinching her cheeks softly then booping her nose.

He was overflowing with love for her so early in the morning, and he couldn't stop himself. Especially now that y/n has finally gotten some rest that she so much deserved.

"Oh they did? So they're coming over?"

"Uh huh. Later in the afternoon."

Y/n reaches over to Chan's side, where her phone was also placed. He gently holds on to her waist as she lifted herself on top of him.

"It's 9am..." she announces.

"Wanna have breakfast? Or brunch?"

"Uhm... I still kinda wanna sleep more." she admits sheepishly as she sinks back to her place besides Chan.

"Then let's sleep more."

"How about the guys?" she worries. "We might oversleep. How are we gonna prepare?"

"Well, I could tell them to come for dinner instead so we could still have more time to sleep and prepare after. What do you think, bub?" he asks, pulling her close.

Y/n takes her time to answer, and stays silent. It fooled Chan into thinking she fell back to sleep.

He was about to snuggle closer and go back to sleep when suddenly, y/n jerks up, her head hitting the same spot on Chan's chin she already hit earlier.

"Owwwww" they both say in unison.

"I'm so so so sorry bubby." She frantically says, laughing. "I was going to try to kiss you!" she worries.

"Double that then." he teases her, tending to his aching chin.

Y/n caresses the spot, then kisses it. She then locks eyes with Chan.

"You can hit my chin one million times and I'd still be head over heels for you after." he whispers.

"I'll kiss all your pain away a million times more then." she whispers back.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Because you just did. Why ARE we whispering?" she giggles. Chan sighs.

Gently, he grabs her face in his hands, and softly lands a kiss to her forehead.

He stayed there for a bit, savoring the moment. Y/n closes her eyes and runs her hands on Chan's arms, enjoying the vulnerability and sweetness of the moment.

"I love you-" they say in unison again, after Chan breaks off. They laugh again.

This time, it was y/n's turn.

As they giggled at their antics, she pulled Chan by the collar of his shirt, and gently crashed her lips on his. It took him by surprise, but he quickly adjusts, burrying his hands into her hair and softly playing with them as he returned the kiss.

"God, I love you." He speaks first as they broke it off to catch their breaths. He peppers her face with little kisses, making her smile.

"I love you..." she replies, kissing the top of his nose in return. Chan pulls her back to his chest. His heartbeat drumming loudly, lulling her back to sleep after all the fluff.

"Go back to sleep, my love. We've got a lot of time." he tells her. Y/n nods, loving every moment of her rest. Her deadlines flying out of her thoughts.

---------------------

a/n: guyyyyys it's been so long since i last wrote something here😭 uni has been so stressful lately. Maybe that's why I wrote this in this light and theme. I badly need a Dino in my life too.

Anyways, I want to write more😭 someone give me prompts or something.

And as always, if you loved this as much as I loved writing it, please leave a comment or reblog so other people would see my works too🥹👉🏻👈🏻🤍

lot's of love,

aster🫡

#svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen #svt au #svt x reader #svt fanfic #svt fluff #svt oneshot #dino x reader #dino x you #dino x y/n #lee chan #lee chan svt

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