#nct dream zombie au

[anothershorthuman]

Stay Alive Pt. 8

pairings: nct dream x platonic!reader, afab!reader (you wear a skirt, but they/them pronouns are used), ??? x reader x ???

genre: zombie apocalypse au, high school au, angst, fluff, humor, not really horror but it's zombies ya'know

word count: 3.0k

series warnings: blood, injuries & fighting, suicide, character death, swearing, again... zombies.

chpt warnings: medical malpractice, mentions of dead parents, swearing

summary: nobody was ready for a zombie apocalypse. you were definitely not ready for a zombie apocalypse. while contemplating just giving up and accepting your fate, you meet a group of boys. life may seem pointless now, but at the very least, you now have a reason to stay alive.

previous: masterlist: next

… 

The camp isn’t as full as Jaemin thought it would be. Sure, there are several hundred people, but there are plenty of empty beds. The camp is broken up into several buildings: 4 housing lodges, 3 bathroom lodges, 1 cafeteria, the 2 medical buildings near the entrance, the staff entrance building, and a giant courtyard in the middle. 

The boys were given a tour after all of their medical examinations and given color coded wristbands in order to place them in a lodging house. Mark and Chenle were put into the green house, Renjun, Haechan, and Jisung in the yellow house. The remaining two houses were blue and red, but the wristbands given to Jeno and Jaemin were orange. 

“What the fuck is orange?” Jaemin asks the guard giving them a tour. 

“The two of you were uncooperative when you were found. Think of it as your first warning.” 

They were instructed to stay in the red lodging house. Apparently, that is where all of the uncooperative residents stayed, as well as off-guard security and military. Jeno assumed that this is similar to what being in prison was like. Uncooperative residents were only allowed in the red lodge and other communal spaces. People placed in other housing lodges were free to enter any building except the staff building. There was a curfew, everyone was to be in their housing lodge at midnight.

The boys sat together at the outskirts of the courtyard. Jeno was glaring at anyone that stared a little too hard. They had tried looking for you, assuming that your medical examination must have gone by quicker than theirs considering you were by yourself and yet, you were nowhere to be found.

“What if something was wrong with them?” Chenle asked. The implication was understood by everyone, what if you had been infected?

“Don’t say that.” Renjun is quick to shoot him down. “We asked the guards if they were fine and they said they are so… they’re fine.”

Jaemin is picking at the skin around his nails, “Fine my ass. We should find them and get out of here.”

“Maybe we should leave without them.” Everyone's heads whip to look at Jeno in surprise. He shrugs a bit, “Don’t look at me like that. If the government wants to keep them for whatever reason, maybe we should let them. I mean, it's the government! What the hell are we supposed to do against the government?”

Haechan is the first to defend you, “We’re not supposed to abandon our friends.”

Jeno shakes his head, “I’m glad you could find comfort in them after what happened with your mom, but they aren’t the only ones wanting to help you through that. We need to be realistic, okay?” When an uncomfortable silence follows his statement he continues, “This isn’t me not wanting to be their friend. This is me prioritizing the friends I have in front of me right now.”

Jeno’s a bit out of breath after his outburst and his eyes flicker between all of the boys trying to gauge their reaction. 

“Maybe he’s right.” Jisung says softly. He’s ripping up the blades of grass in front of him as he talks, avoiding eye contact with everyone else. “If something were to happen to them, or anyone of us, they wouldn’t want the rest of us to be hung up on it, right? We can’t just sit around and do nothing. If something happens to me, I want you guys to make a run for it. Keep living.”

Chenle stands up and speaks as he dusts off his pants, “I don’t give a shit what you guys say. Leave for all I care, but I’m not leaving without knowing why they’re being so secretive about keeping my friend isolated and away from us.” And with that he left towards the green lodge. Mark is quick to run off after him, assuring the others that he’ll be back after making sure that he’s okay. Jisung follows.

Renjun sighs, this really wasn’t how he thought this conversation would go. Jeno has been nothing but candid with his distaste for you, even if he’s unwilling to explain where these feelings originated. He’s also noticed the complete opposite with Jaemin. All of the second years know that Jaemin is a flirt, often taking people out on dates. There were rumors about how he would sneak his arm around his dates shoulders, his other hand maybe wandering. But Renjun knows that despite Jaemin’s flirtatious persona, those rumors were only rumors. Jaemin hadn’t been interested in anyone for years, but he wonders if maybe he’s interested in you now. Renjun glances at him, only to realize that Jaemin is already looking at him intently.

“What?” Renjun asks.

Jaemin shrugs, “You didn’t say anything earlier, I was just wondering what you’re thinking.”

“I’m worried about them too. But if everyone else wants to leave, then I’m okay with that too.”

Jaemin lets out a dry laugh, “So you don’t actually have an opinion?”

Renjun can feel his eyebrows rising, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re taking the easy way out. Would it kill you to be divisive?”

“I’m divisive when I need to be,” Renjun is quick to retaliate, “I care about the entire group and I understand that not everyone will agree with me, something that you don’t seem to understand.”

“Oh, I understand. I really just don’t care. If I’m right, I’m not gonna go along with everyone else because they agree. They’re still wrong.”

Renjun leans forward, challenging him, “So you’re never wrong?”

Jaemin sends him a lazy smile, “I’m never wrong.”

Sure, Renjun is annoyed with Jaemin’s answer, but it’s Jeno that scoffs in disagreement.

“I can name 5 different times you were wrong right now.” Jeno says.

“Do it.” Jaemin challenges.

“The time you told Haechan that Chaeyoung was into him and he should confess to her.”

“I knew she would reject him. But he had been doing unnecessary favors for her and Haechan was being used. She needed to straight up reject him so he could move on.”

“What?” Haechan exhaled in surprise, “You couldn’t have just told me she wasn’t into me!” He shoves Jaemin and Jaemin shoves him back and snickers.

“The time you stole Yangyangs money.”

“I saw him take it from a freshman. I gave it back to them.”

“When you skipped Chemistry for an entire semester.”

“That was the semester Yuna would not leave Renjun alone unless he had people around, I’d skip class so he wouldn’t be alone during lunch.”

“That’s why you’d eat lunch with me?” Renjun interrupts. 

Jaemin nods his head. “That girl was so fucking clingy, I figured you would like having a guard dog around for one period.”

Jeno laughs, “You did not just call yourself a guard dog.” Haechan starts to jokingly bark at Jaemin.

“I am one.” Jaemin smiles. “But see, I’m always right. So, we shouldn’t leave until all of us can leave together, okay?”

“Fine by me.” Renjun sighs.

“Jeno?”

Jeno is looking at his hands in his lap, smoothing out the wrinkles in his pants. “I don’t know, man.”

Jaemin scooches closer to Jeno, putting a hand on his knee. “Please, dude. For me?”

The breeze picks up, and Renjun can feel the hairs in the back of his neck sticking up. The wind rustles the trees surrounding the camp and the leaves fall into the camp. 

“Okay.” Jeno says.

Haechan interrupts the moment with his loud voice, “No one’s gonna ask me what I think?”

…

Mark watches Chenle pout and whine to Jisung about how unfair everything is. If the circumstances had been different, Mark would probably have even thought that Chenle looked cute. He would have leaned over and squeezed his cheeks affectionately, teased him about his complaining. Sadly, they were still in the middle of the first zombie apocalypse known to man, so the temper tantrum was more annoying than cute.

“Can you chill out, man?” Mark asks.

Chenle’s mouth opens in an “O,” seemingly shocked by Mark's statement. “I can’t believe you just said that to me!” he complains.

Jisung is trying his hardest not to laugh. Really, he is. He knows that there isn’t anything funny about Mark reprimanding Chenle or having an argument about potentially leaving someone behind to die, and yet he can’t stop the giggles that leave his mouth. This, in turn, prompts Chenle to start giggling too. Soon, they are both cackling, leaning onto each other for support. Chenle is doubling over in laughter and Jisung is hitting him on the back as he starts to wheeze. 

Mark can’t do anything else but watch. His face expression is contorted into one of confusion, his eyebrows pulled together and his mouth slightly open as if to ask a question. His face only makes the other two boys laugh harder. Mark sighs deeply and leaned back on his two hands. 

“Okay, okay,” Jisung says, wheezing between laughs, “We’re done.”

Chenles laughing lessens when he sees that Mark didn’t seem amused by their outburst. He didn’t mean to be annoying, but it felt like all his repressed emotions were starting to catch up to him. 

“This is serious,” Mark said.

Chenle scoffed, “You think I don’t know that? Tell me why I’m the only person that gives a fuck as to if one of our friends is okay?”

“Are they really our friend?” Jisung asks.

“Are you seriously asking me that right now?” Chenle says with eyebrows raised.

One of Mark's hands came up to rub his face, he really was struggling to keep his frustrations at bay. “We met them a couple days ago, Chenle. And they held a knife to my neck!”

“Maybe you only met them a couple days ago. But they’re in Jisung and my homeroom, they’re my friend.”

“Friend is a stretch, don’t you think?” Jisung says, “I mean, they sat all the way in the back and barely talked to anyone.”

“They’re my friend, okay?” Chenle was clearly becoming more irritated by their line of questioning, “Just because you didn’t talk to them doesn’t mean that I never did.”

…

Chenle was on his own. Usually, he and Jisung would sit outside their homeroom before class started, talking about basketball or the latest anime episode they had watched. But, Jisung was sick and wouldn’t be at school today and Chenle didn’t feel like talking to anyone else. So he figured he would walk into class early that day and just wait in his seat for the day to start. He figured that he could use some peace and quiet and he hoped to spend some time alone.

Except, he wasn’t alone. When he walked into the classroom, you were already in your seat. You barely acknowledged him as he walked to his seat in front of you, but he noticed the way your lips twitched up when he greeted you. 

The two of you coexisted for a while. Chenle had even pulled out some homework to do. He was erasing something when his arm bumped into his pencil and it fell onto the floor. When he bent over to pick it up, he noticed your own paper. Instead of working on homework, you had been drawing. There were swirls and geometric shapes intricately drawn across your paper. In the center there was a jellyfish.

“I, uh, like your drawing.”

Your head snaps up, not having realized that he had turned around and was watching you. You put your pencil down and rest your hand on your desk, covering up the majority of your drawing.

“It’s nothing.” You mutter.

Chenle shakes his head, “It’s not nothing. I think it’s cool. Do you like jellyfish?”

“It’s not a jellyfish,” you say rather dryly, “It’s a man-o-war.”

His head tilts to the side, wanting to get a better look at the drawing, “A man-o-what?” He’s still trying to look at the drawing when he hears a small laugh. His eyes drift upward towards your face, and he catches a glimpse of amusement on your face before it disappears again. A small smile spread on his own face, he was starting to like talking to you, even if you thought he was sort of dumb.

“A Portuguese man-o-war. Don’t worry, I’m not good at drawing and it gets confused for jellyfish all the time.”

… 

Renjun, Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin are now laying side by side on the grass. They assumed that the other boys would join them when they finished having their own discussion but they had been laying there for a while. They were getting some looks from the people that would walk past them, but they don't mind. 

“Our lives are ruined, aren’t they? Renjun asks softly. The other boys don’t have an answer for his question but when he peeks at them from his spot on the ground, he can tell they’re thinking about what he said. It really did seem like their lives were over. All of their dreams and aspirations were thrown out the window. Renjun would never get to have a display of his art in a museum and his parents would never see why he was so sure about moving to Korea to work on his craft. In fact, he might not see his parents ever again. 

He blinked away tears before the boys could see them well up in his eyes.

…

You wake up feeling incredibly sluggish, fighting to keep your eyes from falling shut once again. You instinctively try to rub away the tiredness from your eyes but find that your wrists have been secured to the hospital-like bed that you are lying in. 

Memories start coming back to you: arriving at the camp after being attacked, being separated from the boys, and weird doctors and nurses. There is a faint beeping to the left of you, presumably some sort of machine that takes your vitals and an iv that is attached to your left arm. Your arm feels tired and sore and you begin to wonder if they have something else dripping into your bloodstream. 

Now, feeling more aware of your surroundings, you realize that you are no longer in the same room you were last in with the nurse. Although this room is similar, with the general feeling of being in a clinic or hospital, it is bigger. There is a curtain that blocks your view of half the room and you wonder if there is anyone in the room that isn’t visible to you. The room is devoid of any furniture, with the exception of your bed. There's a cabinet against the wall and a manila folder on top of it. Your fingers twitch, maybe you could figure out what these people wanted with you if you could just read that file that they had made about you. 

Your train of thought is interrupted by the sound of a door suddenly opening. The door is behind the curtain, so you aren’t able to see who has walked into the room, but you can see their feet from below the curtain. They are presumably a man wearing dress shoes, some sort of loafers. They are polished and squeak against the floor as he walks across the floor. A big hand reaches around the side of the curtain and pulls it back. You are faced with a middle aged man, wearing a white lab coat over a navy blue sweater and beige dress pants. He’s got glasses on and his hair is the only part of him that doesn’t look put together, like he’s been running his fingers through it too many times. 

He smiles when you make eye contact, an attempt to be polite, you presume, but do not give him the courtesy of smiling back or speaking with him. You stare at each other rather blankly for a second before he starts speaking. 

“I’m sure you must be very confused right now. My name is Lee Changsub, I'm the camp's main doctor.”

You continue to stare blankly at him. If he’s the main doctor, it’s likely that it’s his fault that you’re in this position to begin with. If he’s in control, there’s no use in trying to communicate with him, he’s only speaking with you because he wants something and the camp had made it very clear that they were willing to take whatever it is they wanted without consent, it was the government, of course.

He looks away for a second, wiping his palms on his coat and then awkwardly putting them into his coat pockets. How funny, a doctor made uncomfortable by a teen. 

“Do you, uh, wanna know why you’re here?” 

He fidgets as he waits for a response from you. He looks at you expectantly, but only receives a nod from you.

“Will you not speak to me? I’ve been told that you’re a bit abrasive.”

“Who told you that?” You ask sharply, “Miss Kang?”

His eyes widen a bit and his mouth opens and closes a couple times.

“Do you mean Dr. Kang?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, Dr Kang.”

Changsub is clearly floored by your mockery, but it leaves you feeling confused. Are you the first person that they have strapped down against their will? Had he expected you to be in a good mood after what happened?

“What time is it?” you ask.

“I'm not sure,” Changsub says as he walks over to the cabinet, looking through the file. He seems to only skim the pages, glancing at you every once in a while. You revert back to silence. 

He leans a bit on the cabinet, suddenly becoming very comfortable. He puts his weight onto his arm that's on top of the counter and crosses his feet casually. You’re pretty sure you even see his lips twitch into a brief smile.

“This camp has been tasked with finding a cure to this spreading disease and you’re going to help me find it.”

…

tagging! @staysstrays, @caspervoid, @alyselenai, @lethephin, @leechipp, @rkiveruinz, @butterfliesinthenightsky, @olxviaaaa, @kikookii, @shley-chan, @kodzukena, @everytimeicrymytearsdonteverdry, @cocoishere

could not tag red

wanna be tagged? click here:)

a/n: hello,, thank you for reading this chapter! things are really gonna start picking up soon and im excited for you guys to read it! This chapter may feel like a lot of nothing lol, but i promise it's heading somewhere

#stay alive #nct dream x reader #nct dream x platonic!reader #mark x reader #renjun x reader #jeno x reader #jaemin x reader #haechan x reader #chenle x reader #jisung x reader

[misswoozi]

✨ empty inbox! ✨

Bring me your best fictional discourse — SFW or NSFW! The groups and idols that I write for are listed in my pinned post (along with some basic rules!)

Need a little inspiration to get the creative juices flowing? I've got you covered! Here are some common types of ask I find in my inbox.

🍐 MTLs (ex. "Who in Twice is MTL likely to catch feelings for a FWB?")

🍊 Rating questions (ex. "Rate ATEEZ's kissing game out of 10."

🍒 Kink questions (ex. "What would Taeyeon/Seohyun be into?)

🍋 Compatibility questions (ex. "Who in Day6 is most compatabile with Kyungsoo?")

🥝 AU questions (ex. "Which NCT Dream ship best fits an Avatar the Last Airbender AU?")

🍓 Idol Would You Rather questions (ex. "Would Seungcheol rather tease his partner in public or be teased by his partner?)

🍌 Top 5's (ex. "Who are the top 5 idols who take the most artsy/aesthetic nudes?")

🥥 Cross-ship questions (ex. "Would Mina be compatible with Beomgyu?")

🍑 General discourse (ex. "Which idol would make the best zombie apocalypse survival partner?")

#twice smut #ateez smut #day6 smut #exo smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #seventeen smut #exid smut #mamamoo smut #gfriend smut #snsd smut #shinee smut #txt smut

[neochan]

omggg ive been looking EVERYWHERE for twd/zombie au for nct dream I CANT FIND ANYY 😫😫 master neochan if you ever can, i beg u to unleash your magic into an au abt it 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

of course anon, i will do my best when i can :) if you wanna indulge me in ur thoughts, ill put some superficial stuff out now !!!

#⋆ answered

[x10velyhwang]

nct - wayv . 엔시티 - 威神V

taeyong . 태용

danger nature. [fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut] [one shot, written] break my heart again. [bff to enemies to lovers au, fluff, angst, smut] [au, written] into you. [exes to lovers, fluff, angst] [au, smau, written] living for your every move. [enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, smut] [one shot, written] total count: 4.

ten . 텐

it’s gotta be you. [strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy, slice of life] [au, smau, written] gallery of the lost. [strangers to lovers, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] colour outside of the lines. [single parent au, fluff, angst, comedy] [au, smau, written] little princess. [mafia au, arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, mild violence] [one shot, written] the pursuit of happiness. [strangers to lovers, fluff] [one shot, written] four years, one night. [bff to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy, slowburn] [one shot, written] stay with me. [established relationship, royal au, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] the beldam. [supernatural au, angst, thriller] [one shot, written] more than friends, less than lovers. [bff to lovers, fluff, angst, smut] [one shot, written] like magnets. [enemies to lovers, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] begging just to know you. [strangers to lovers, mild fluff, smut] [one shot, written] come home. [established relationship, fluff] [one shot, written] pipe dreams. [friends to lovers, fluff] [one shot, written] life’s preparations. [single dad au, fluff] [one shot, written] worlds apart. [zombie apocalypse au, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] a bullet for a kiss. [mafia au, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] breaking down the walls. [arranged marriage, royalty au, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] prima. [enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy] [au, smau, written] 10 seconds. [soulmate au, fluff, mild angst, comedy] [one shot, written, bulletpoints] can i...? [friends to lovers, fluff] [one shot, written] hate, hurt. [strangers to lovers, fluff, mild angst, hurt, comfort] [one shot, written] universe. [established relationship, fluff] [one shot, written] grow. [brother’s bff, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] love line. [friends to lovers, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] teammates. [enemies to lovers, smut] [one shot, written] illustrated haiku. [artist au, fluff] [one shot, written] unexpected enthusiast. [neighbor/strangers to lovers, fluff, angst] [au, written] sweet aftertaste. [strangers to lovers, fluff] [one shot, written, bulletpoints] total count: 27. jaehyun . 재현

june 24. [soulmate au, fluff] [one shot, written] be mine. [single parent au, fluff] [one shot, written] i’m yours. [single parent au, fluff] [one shot, written] let me know. [bff to lovers, fluff, angst, slowburn] [au, written] symphony of eternal memories. [enemies to lovers, royal au, fluff, angst, slowburn] [one shot, written] domaine de la romaneé. [strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut] [one shot, written] early bird. [friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slice of life] [one shot, written] teach or be taught. [teacher/coworkers au, fluff] [one shot, written] pact. [bff to lovers, fluff, angst] [au, smau, written] quit. [friends to lovers, fluff, angst, smut] [one shot, written] broken inside. [established relationship, angst] [one shot, written] following. [strangers/enemies to lovers, fluff, angst] [au, smau] total count: 12.

mark . 마크

all that glitters. [rich(?) au, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] pink. [established relationship, fluff, smut] [one shot, written] true friends. [bff to lovers, angst, smut] [one shot, written] jealousy, jealousy. [established relationship, hockey au, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] extra clothes. [bff to lovers, mutual pining, fluff] [one shot, written] compass. [strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy] [au, smau, written] spidermark. [spiderman au, strangers to lovers, fluff, comedy] [one shot, written, bulletpoints] notice you. [strangers to lovers, fluff] [one shot, written] before the sun sets. [friends to lovers, fluff] [one shot, written] that’s my girl. [established relationship, fluff, comedy, hurt, comfort] [one shot, written] can’t get over you. [strangers to lovers, barista au, fluff] [one shot, written] daisies. [friends to lovers, fluff] [one shot, written] the one with the study break. [established relationship, fluff] [one shot, written] total count: 13.

xiaojun . 肖俊

the muse. [friends to lovers, fluff, comedy] [au, smau, written] total count: 1.

jeno . 제노

nameless. [ft. yeonjun] [friends to lovers, fluff, comedy, angst, mystery] [au, smau, written] total count: 1. jaemin . 재민

what i hate like about you. [enemies to lovers, fluff, angst] [au, smau, written] wish granted. [guardian angel au, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] the fact remains. [soulmate au, unrequited love, bff to lovers, hanahaki, fluff, angst] [au, written] seven minutes in heaven. [friends to lovers, fluff] [one shot, written] running circles through my mind. [bff to lovers, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] puzzle. [bff to lovers, fluff, angst] [au, smau] whisper of the heart. [royalty au, fluff, angst] [one shot, written] catch me if you can. [soulmate au, fluff, angst, comedy] [au, smau, written] complicated. [friends to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy] [au, smau, written] my first and last. [strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy] [au, smau, written] there’s something about you. [soulmate au, angst] [one shot, written] the ink on your fingers. [strangers to lovers, crime, thriller] [au, written] crush culture. [strangers to friends to lovers, fake dating, fluff, angst, slowburn] [au, smau, written] murder replay. [friends to lovers kinda, fluff, angst, mystery] [au, smau, written] secret. [established relationship, fluff, mild angst] [au, smau, written] total count: 15.

yangyang . 杨杨

closet. [bff to lovers, fluff] [one shot, written] 9:08 a.m. [bff to lovers, fluff, comedy] [one shot, written] the one with the morning classes. [bff to lovers, fluff, smut] [one shot, written] wasted nights. [zombie apocalypse, friends to lovers, fluff, comedy] [one shot, written] stolen liquor. [exes au, angst, slight smut] [one shot, written] unsure. [bff to lovers, fluff, slight angst] [one shot, written] electric hearts. [soulmate au, fluff, comedy] [one shot, written] indigo. [strangers to lovers, smut] [one shot, written] trouble. [bad boy au, fluff, violence] [one shot, written] total count: 9.

#neo culture technology #lee taeyong #chittaphon leechaiyapornkul #taeyong #ten #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun #mark lee #mark #nct mark #nct taeyong #nct ten #nct jaehyun #wayv #weishenv #jeno #lee jeno #na jaemin #jaemin #nct jaemin #nct jeno #xiaojun #xiao dejun #yangyang #liu yangyang

[quokkatastic]

🐺K-Pop Masterlist🐺

Last updated: 05/08/2023

This may not be updated consistently since I do struggle with writers’ block a lot but I will try

FULL MASTERLIST

Keys:

(More will be added if they’ve been requested/written)

Also I’m aware….. there’s a lotta shit, as in emoticons/symbols, this helps ME keep track mostly but again, I do understand that it might get confusing and I’m so sorry in advance I’ll try to lay it out in a less confusing way.

General: Ongoing ✛ On Hold ✏︎ Discontinued ✗ Completed ✓

Types: Smutt ♦︎ Sugestive ♢ Fluff ♥︎ Angst ♤ Triggering ♣︎

AU’s: Royalty  Zombie/Post-Apocolypse  Bad Boy ✧ Supernatural ☯︎ Enemies > Lovers  Friends > Lovers ❂ Lovers > Enemies ➣ Friends with Benefits ✤ Gang/Mafia type ✒︎ Modern Day Style ❏ Parenting◌

Wattpad: Ssilver_FOXx

If the title has a line through it, it hasn’t been published yet but is in the works

STRAY KIDS

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OT8:

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Changbin:

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Hyunjin:

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Jisung:

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Felix:

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Seungmin:

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⇢ Forever and Always ☯︎(STORY)

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NCT Dream: Dear Dream ❏(STORY)

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NCT U:

𑁍 𑁍 𑁍 𑁍

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#stray kids #chan #minho #changbin #hyunjin #skz jisung #stray kids felix #kpop #seungmin #jeongin #fanfic #fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids romance #skz x reader #skz hyunjin #skz seungmin #skz #skz minho #skz jeongin #skz lee know #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids writing #stray kids story

[blackch-rry]

someone pls help me find this fic! It was Nct dream x reader (I think) and it was like post-apocalyptic (not sure it was a zombie au) but the reader ends up 💀 in the end lol

It’s been on my mind for days!!

#nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream fic #nct dream imagines

[vvsminhyung]

i. 𝐃-𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝟒:𝟏𝟖𝐏𝐌

Today's weather is shitty.

Dry air, and tremendous heat to start his afternoon. Jaemin has come to a conclusion that maybe he shouldn't have agreed to this after all. That maybe he should have just stay in their dorm, and not let Donghyuck drag him outside his bedroom just to go out and get a fucking grocery shopping.

"Come on man, you're the cook here. I don't know shit about kitchen." Jaemin heavily drags out a huff, and skips forward. Not even bothering to respond to his friend who is dragging the cart.

"Whatever," Jaemin looks at the notes on his phone and checks the foods that was already in the cart. "Just dial Jeno already so we can get home as soon as possible."

"Fine."

Eyes looking out for fresh dairies, Jaemin continues to carry out his responsibility as the only normal cook out of his senior friends. They were four - actually five, but the other one has gone to the other side of the building because he was pretty much older than them. Just one year apart and all, but college priorities weren't exactly the time to kid around, especially if you are friends with a bunch of stupid seniors.

"Renjun's coming with him."

Jaemin nods, and proceeds to carefully placed the snacks he seems to befit on their tastes. Going on around and around for another stall, he stops at a certain cooler filled with buckets of ice creams. An imaginary drool coming out of Donghyuck's masked face.

Jaemin shakes his head and takes one out.

"Make it two."

He sighs, and well, gets two. They have loads of money after all, food was easy to obtain with rich parents.

"Actually, let's get it five. I don't want to share it with anyone."

Jaemin raises a brow. "It's just the four of us stupid."

"Shut up. I get the extra one, of course."

"Fine, but you pay me back."

"Whatever."

Rolling the wheels around, Donghyuck tails off behind Jaemin's back steps by steps like a child following their mother around. He was about to bother Jaemin with another plead of chocolate by the stall when his phone suddenly rings in his pocket. A call from Jeno. Telling him that he's at the parking lot now with Renjun. Donghyuck says it out loud unconsciously for Jaemin to hear, when he felt himself eerily get no response from the said boy.

"Where the hell - ?"

"What, why?" Jeno asks from the other side.

"Jaemin's off to somewhere without telling me, probably forgotten something but whatever. I'll just wait him here."

And it was true, Jaemin has sure forgotten something. Coffee in the morning. He smiles in satisfaction and grabs one, about to head back towards his friend Donghyuck by the counter until he heard a commotion by his side. A little far away from him, but enough for his ears and sight to ring the alarm that maybe something's happening out there by the side of the stall. He was curious, of course who wouldn't be? Especially when all of their expressions had written the word panic on it, and a seemingly skilled woman has been giving a CPR to this kid laying on the floor. Spasming his body out weirdly.

Jaemin felt guilty, but it's not like he can do something about that moment. He's a future lawyer, not a medical student. And besides, the woman already looks professional and skilled, something that could help the poor boy out. Surely, they had already called an ambulance out for him now, right? There's no need for him too, right?

"But yeah, fuck it. Let's call them again." Jaemin smashes off the digit on his dial app, and tries contacting the ambulance. Strangely enough, they weren't answering. Another call, then the third call, then the fourth. They were still not on line. Jaemin wondered if all hospitals was damn busy today for them not to take his calls.

About to make his fifth call, Jaemin almost drops his phone down when an ear-piercing scream perceives his earbuds. The woman. The one who was giving the CPR, screams - almost so painfully and in agony. Jaemin had almost lose his shit at the sight, but one thing he knows is that something's not playing right. Something's definitely off, and it was that kid laying on the ground.

He is now standing, visible black veins spread throughout his body and eyes that almost falls off its pockets. Blood rushing through them and undefined expression. Though, what terrifies Jaemin the most is that how his small baby teeth keeps sinking down the woman's flesh. Particularly, her nose. Ripping it off, then proceeding to the neck part. It didn't even help that she was stunned on her knees, and the kid has taken the advantage of towering his figure above her's.

Jaemin doesn't totally understand what the fuck just happened right now, but all he knows is that he should run off and get Donghyuck, and their groceries. Trudge to Jeno and get the fuck out of this mad place.

"The fuck took you so long - Hey, wait!" Jaemin doesn't hesitate to take over the cart in his own matter. Glaring at Donghyuck, then facing him.

"Just trust me on this, alright. You know I'm never the type to do this thing."

Donghyuck wasn't a slow-poked. He was a quick-witted learner who had a tiny hint of what Jaemin is on about. He heard a faint scream earlier, something that definitely tells him that maybe Jaemin had clearly heard it off well earlier while he was stalling around. Resulting to his behavior right now.

"Alright, whatever that is, I trust you. No need to fret Jaemin, let's go."

Dashing off without paying the matters on their hand, they had reach the parking lot with exhausted gasps and catching their breaths. Jaemin on the other hand, wastes no time and fill Jeno's trunk with their groceries. Throwing all the stocks flat on the space, and almost toppling the ice creams all over the place. But Jaemin doesn't care. It wasn't the time for that.

"Goodness, what the fuck happened to you two?"

Renjun says the moment the two entered in.

Jaemin ignores him, and eyes Jeno. "Drive now, Jeno. Whatever you do, please do not stop."

"What, why?"

"Just trust him man, I think there were bad guys at the market." Donghyuck sighs, and looks at Jaemin for assurance. His eyes are asking if his hunch is correct. It was the bad guys, right? What of it, if it's not? It was the only reason he could think of, especially of the woman's scream.

"I-I don't know.." Jaemin gulps, and this was their first time seeing his figure so afraid and hooded. Jaemin, normally on a daily basis, is a calm and laid back teenager, not really someone who's extrovert and outgoing. Sure, he goes on and on with his tantrums and complains, but it was because of his stupid friends. That was his common traits, not someone who was easily scared. Donghyuck wonder what's up. He should know, he was with him earlier. He was about to ask him once again, when something came out of his peripheral vision, some ruckus and outstanding screams from the main road.

All four gasps at the sight.

"Jeno, n-now." Jaemin whispers, enough words to snap them back to reality. His voice trembles, remembering what happened earlier with the kid and the woman now that he has seen another one by the street. This time, it was a three person ganging up one citizen down the floor. All biting the poor old man and taking his skin like it was some sort of food.

"T-That's fucking crazy! We should help him!"

"Fuck no, we shouldn't. Goddamnit!"

Jaemin's fast reflexes had halted the boy just in time before his foot could fully step out of the car, his side of door left hanging open due to his persistence of stopping him. Jaemin gawks slightly, and immediately hurries to close it, proceeding to lock all doors on Jeno's side by the driver seat so no one can't get out that easily.

Though by the process of that, may have cause a difficult situation for them.

The door got slammed a bit louder than Jaemin expected, out of panic and definitely not even bothering to think that maybe the three inhuman citizens had heard them. His eyes widen in realization, and he furiously turns around to face Jeno who seems to got everything without telling him to drive the fuck out and just go. Jeno grips the wheel tighter and full speed out of the lot. He may have his eyes set on the direction of the road, but he couldn't also help but notice the destruction that cause the city. It was a mess. People had gone screaming and running around places, streetlights that gone tilted due to cars who have bump them, and multiple car crash by the road. Smoke has erupted out of it, and Jeno, being a man who had driven the longest out of them, has managed to dodge it somehow without creating a collision with the other vehicles.

"Why the fuck are they chasing us?" Renjun pertains to the three other persons running after them.

Donghyuck scoffs, turning to look at Jaemin. "What the fuck is wrong with you? We could have save the man right there, you asshole."

"There's no way in hell we could have save him, Donghyuck."

"What?"

"They're eating the fuck out of him, how are we supposed to save one at that?" Jaemin's tone rises, and the atmosphere of the car grew colder than the air conditioner itself. Donghyuck remains blank and glares at Jaemin, he is finding something. Something that can tell him that maybe this younger is pulling a joke on him, and the eating part is a huge prank to keep him quiet. If that's it, then Jaemin is good. He managed to keep him quiet, but not too long. Because first and foremost, Jeno had almost bump a person crossing the road rather slowly.

"Fuck."

Jaemin hiss at the sudden halt and glances at the direction of his North, looking at the reason why they stop. Once again, it was a person spasming the fuck out of his body. But this one is standing. A man. Probably the age of thirties. Jaemin's eyes widen when its eyes turns to look at them. There goes again the weird expression he witness earlier, as if they were uncomfortable and malfunctioning at the same time.

"What the actual fuck is that." Renjun utters, breaking the silence between them.

Jeno, an intellectual at this moment, doesn't care about the man and ran him all over the places. Not feeling a sense of any guilt when he felt a thud underneath his car. Bumping tons of bodies from god knows what creatures are them right now.

"This is fucking stupid." Donghyuck curse out, just getting the hint of what's happening. It was no doubt that the living dead is something that had been a famous category for thriller and horror in movies all over the years, but still, in Donghyuck's perspective, it was a bit too much. He honestly can't believe it was seriously happening to them right now.

"That's it, we're driving away here. Jeno, get this car out of the main city." Jaemin orders, and no one could even retaliate at that. They agree, none of it matters at the moment other than their safety.

Just out of the Seoul, and drive away from here.

to be continued. ( 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐. )

#nct dream #nct #nct dream zombie apocalypse #jaemin #jeno #chenle #jisung #donghyuck #haechan #mark #renjun #zombie apocolypse au #nct jaemin #nct haechan #nct chenle #nct renjun #nct mark #nct jeno #nct jisung #nct dream zombie au #nct dream angst #nct dream dystopian #nct dream horror #vvsminhyung #zhong chenle #park jisung #na jaemin #lee haechan #mark lee #huang renjun

[breads-bakery]

-- WARM BODIES || teaser

pairing: zombie!park jisung x afab reader

featuring: nct and more

tags: oneshot, zombie au!, romance, comedy , angst, smut horror , suggestive / mature content . MDNI !

disclaimer: all my works are solely fiction and entirely brought by my imagination ( or inspired by movies, songs,etc.. ), it doesn't relate to the real lives of the idols mentioned. any similarities to other works are purely coincidental. i do not allow anyone to repost or translate my works.

inspired by : warm bodies ( 2013 )

summary: after a highly unusual zombie saves a still-living girl from an attack, the two form an unusual relationship that sets in motion events that might transform the entire lifeless world . caught between the paranoid human forces and the ferocious "Bonies", zombies who are a mutual threat, they must find a way to bridge the differences of each side to fight for a better world no one thought possible.

warnings:  rated r for language, horror , smut , angst, romance, character deaths(!) , zombie violence, a character pulls the skin off his face(!).  if any of these topics make you uncomfortable please do not read!

word count : 935

taglist : @sunooscheeks @sunoobabie @leeknow-knows @legbouk @jaeminslut @succubus-moon @itzz-me-duh @nishmrriki

[ teaser | full fic ]

Jisung' s pov

my eyes flash open and I stand up, pushing dripping branches out of my face. it's still night time an the rain is still pummelling the earth. i step out of the trees and climb up onto the overpass, leaning against the railing, i look out at the empty freeway and the dark horizon beyond it. one thought pounds in my head like a migraine of rage: you're wrong. you fucking monsters are wrong. about everything.

out of the corner of my eye, i notice a silhouette on the other side of the overpass. the dark form moves towards me with slow and steady, lumbering steps. i hunch my muscles together, preparing for a fight. after wandering alone for way too long, the unincorporated Dead will sometimes lose the ability to distinguish their own kind from the Living.

and some are so far gone, so deep into this way of life, they just don't care either way. they'll eat anyone, anything, anywhere, because they can't fathom any other way to interact. i imagine one of these creatures surprising her as she stops the Mercedes to get her bearings, wrapping filthy hands around her face and biting down on her neck, and as that image ferments in my head, i prepare myself to tear this thing in front of me to shreds. the primordial rage that fills me every time I think of someone harming her is terrifying. the violence of just killing and eating people feels like friendly teasing compared to this consuming bloodlust.

the towering shadow staggers closer and closer. a flash of lightning finally illuminates its face, and i drop my arms to my sides.

'C?' i almost fail to recognise him at first. his face , torn and clawed, and there are several small chunks bitten out of his body.

'hey,' he grunts. the rain streaks down his face and pools in his wounds. 'let's . . . get out of . . . rain.' he walks past my leaky trees and climbs down the slope to the freeway below. i follow him to the dry space under the overpass. we huddle there in the dirt, surrounded by old beer cans, syringes and other random trash.

'what . . . are you . . . doing . . . out . . . out here?' i ask him, fighting for the words. i've been silent less than a day and i'm already so damn rusty.

'take . . . guess,' C says, pointing at his face, his wounds to be exact. 'Boneys...drove me out.'

'sorry.' i really am, i never wanted any of these to happen.

C grunts. 'fuck . . . it.' he kicks a random empty beer can. 'but guess . . . what?' something like a small grin illuminates his mangled face. 'some . . . came with me.'

he points down the freeway, and I see a few oher figures moving towards us, in those familiar slow, lumbering steps.

i look at C, confused. 'came . . . with? why?'

he shrugs. 'things . . . crazy . . . back home. toutines . . . shook.' he jabs a finger on the side of my head. 'you.'

'me?'

'you and . . . her. something . . . in air. movement.'

the group of the Dead stop under the overpass and stand there, looking at us blankly.

'hi,' i say. they sway and groan a little in response. one of them nods.

'where's . . . girl?' C asks me.

'her name is y/n.' this comes off my tongue fluidly, like a swish of hot chocolate on a cold winter night.

'y/ . . . n,' C stammers, then repeats with some effort. 'her! where is . . . she?'

'left. went home.'

C studies my face closely. he drops a hand onto my shoulder. 'you . . . okay?'

i close my eyes and take a slow, deep breath. 'no.' i look out at the freeway, towards the city, and something blooms in my head. first a feeling, then a thought, then... a choice. 'i am going after her.'

five syllables, which i said fluidly once again. i have broken my record once again.

'to . . . stadium?' he asks a little warily,and i just nod.

'why?' his eyebrows furrowed and he looks at me as if he's confused .'to . . . save her.' i replied after a brief thought.

'from . . . what?'

'ev . . . rything.'

C just looks at me for a long time. among the Dead, a piercing look can last several minutes, even up to hours. i wonder if he can possibly have any idea what I'm talking about, when I'm not even sure i do. its just a gut feeling. the soft pink zygote of a plan. a plan that's most likely not well-thought.

he gazes up at the sky, and a faraway, kind of melancholic look into his eyes. 'had . . . dream . . . last night. real dream. real memories.'

i stare at him 'remembered . . . when young. summer. my . . . name. a girl.' his eyes refocus on me. 'what . . . is it like?'

'what?' i give him a dazed look of bewilderment, not really getting what he's talking about.

'you've . . . felt it. you know . . . what it is?'

'what are . . . talking about?'

'my dream,' he says, his face full of wonder, i'd say. 'those things . . .like love?'

a shiver runs up my spine. what is happening? C is actually dreaming, reclaiming memories, asking these astonishing questions. i am breaking my syllable records day by day?

a fresh canvas is spread out in front of us. what do we paint on it? what's the first hue to splash on this blank field of grey?

'i'll . . . go with,' C says. 'i'll help you . . . save girl.' he turns to the waiting Dead. 'help us?' he asks, not raising his voice above its easy rumble. 'help save . . . girl? save . . .' he closes his eyes and tries to concentrate. 'y/ . . . n?'

they sway and groan in response, as a couple of them warily nod.

" let's...fucking do it "

#kpop #nct #nct imagines #nct smut #nct x reader #nct maknae #nct jisung #nct park jisung #park jisung zombie au! #park jisung one shot #park jisung smut #park jisung imagines #park jisung #nct hyung line #nct maknae line #nct dream jisung #nct dream #nct dream imagines

[sundaysundaes]

A Shatter in The Dark

Mark Lee X Lee Donghyuck/Haechan, ft. Taeyong | NC-17 | Smut, Fluff, Action, Angst | Zombie Apocalypse AU

Summary: A lethal virus has killed 90% of the world's population and turns 9.8% into zombie-like, cannibalistic mutants who are extremely vulnerable to the ultraviolet rays in sunlight. And yet, Mark Lee's number one problem is trying to stop himself from staring too long at the way Haechan's jeans are hanging dangerously low on his hips.

Warnings: Smut, Major Character Death, Slight Horror and Violence

Also available to read on AO3 here.

It’s strange, Mark thinks, for him to not be able to remember how it all started. Perhaps it’s a way for his mind to release himself from all the traumatic events he has gone through. Perhaps he’s just too scared to even begin to remember the details. Or perhaps he’s just no longer human—not like the way he used to.

“Just keep going,” he mutters to himself—a habit that begins to grow more with each day passing by. It doesn’t necessarily comfort him but it keeps him sane. He needs to hear a human’s voice in his ears, even if that comes from his own mouth.

He has stopped counting days, just like how he’s stopped taking three meals a day. Both for the same reason: to survive longer. His backpack feels heavy on his back and his untrimmed bangs stick uncomfortably to his temple, but he drags his feet along the pavement that’s scorching from the heat of the sun. His throat blazes just as hot, his lips chapped and he needs something to eat.

Back when he was fourteen and his imaginations ran wild from reading too many Stephen King’s horror novels before his bedtime, Mark once imagined how would his town look in a post-apocalyptic universe. He’d visualized the sky with no clouds and thunderbolts striking endlessly. He’d imagined the cracks on the roads with long, tall wild grass growing out of them, as they seek for the sunlight that is now shining bloody red. The air would be toxic, he’d figured, killing everyone who breathes it in without a filter mask and the seas would be dry, making water everyone’s priority and causing civil wars just to get it.

Now that he’s living in a post-apocalyptic world, he notices that it’s nothing like he’d fantasized.

The city of Seoul looks fairly the same, albeit slightly abandoned. Maybe it’s because it’s only been a few months since the outbreak, but the neighbourhood still seems familiar. The plants are unkempt, the bags of dust on the floors are thick in layers, and the pavements are covered with dry leaves. But if Mark closes his eyes for a few seconds, the wind still feels nice on his cheeks, the air still smells like how it does during the end of summer, and he can imagine kids running around down the street. He doesn’t though, because no one around him is alive. He hasn’t met anyone for God knows how long and it’s making him insane.

It’s a fucking ghost town and Mark wishes he could just disappear like everybody else. A few months ago, it was stated that the virus had killed 48% of the world's population. The outbreak had started in Korea as well but his government was trying their best to isolate the island. That was the last news he saw on TV before his mother took the remote control with a quivering hand and turned it off. She turned to her son, eyes trembling in fear, and said, “Let’s pray together. Our Lord will protect us if we pray.”

But Lord’s protection only lasted for two days before his usually calm neighbourhood began to turn into an uproar. The virus had infected one of them and it traveled fast.

Those who had weak bodies, Mark noticed, died within seconds and he witnessed with his own eyes how his father, who had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer just a few weeks before, began to bleed from his mouth, nose and ears. It happened so fast, as if something invisible was choking the life out of him and he exploded from the inside. He could remember how his father was reaching out to him, his son’s name on his tongue and Mark stood there in horror, watching his loved one silently screaming in pain with bloody tears running down his eyes before he fell down his chair, smashing his face against the cold floor and gushing out more blood that seemed darker than the night.

Mark didn’t scream even though his mind was so loud; it felt like his brain was going to burst. He thought the virus was infecting him too and it probably was, but as he kept his eyes shut tightly, heart slamming against his ribcage as he counted to ten, he noticed he was fine. He counted again to one minute, then two, then five and he was still the same.

He was… immune. Or at least so he thought.

That was when he began to cry. And when he thought he would stop crying, he cried even harder with his hand pressed against his chest and his mouth desperately gasping for air. He glanced at the way his father’s lifeless body began to rot as if his corpse had been there for days and felt his stomach hurl.

Mark scrambled to his feet, ran upstairs to reach the room at the end of the corridor, praying frantically for his mother to be alive. And when he found her body lying on the bed, he wasn’t sure whether she was. Her body was still warm, her chest was still heaving up and down with the slow breaths she was taking, but no matter how much he tried to shake her awake, she wouldn’t budge. No matter how much he screamed her name, she wouldn’t reply. And no matter how much he cried, she wouldn’t hug him to soothe down his pain.

Hours passed by with Mark sitting at the edge of the bed,  staring at his mother with lifeless eyes, and he realized that his surrounding was quiet. Eerily so. Even the dogs no longer barked. He took a look out of the window and shuddered at the sight. Most of the people he knew from when he was still a child, were lying on the streets with bloody faces, mirroring the way his father was on his kitchen’s floor. With shivering hands, he tried to call the police with his cellphone but he couldn’t get connected. The signal was down, both the tv and his radio no longer worked and it just really hit him that the world was ending.

It took him another hour to process everything, but only a minute for him to finally get up to his feet and walk downstairs. He had a shovel in his hand, and dried tears lining his cheeks.

He began to dig.

***

“Sorry for barging in,” Mark calls, but not hoping for an answer, after he kicked the front door open. The wooden floor creaks under his step, and it rings loudly in this empty neighbourhood that he’s not familiar with. But at this point, anywhere looks the same.

He knows he’s not the only person living in the world. If he’s immune to the virus, then there must be someone else—maybe even a colony—who survive as well. He just needs to find them. He always hopes that he gets to meet someone as he wanders from one house to another, but months have passed and he hasn’t seen a single soul except those who lurk in the night. Those with cloudy white eyes and rotten skin, snarling at the thought of consuming human’s flesh. Those he sees a lot, and he’s been trying his best to avoid them at all cost.

These creatures that wander after the sunsets are something that fourteen-year-old Mark would most likely call zombies. They used to be the monsters of his worst nightmares but after witnessing them with his own eyes, even standing up against one of them once in the battle of his life, Mark noticed that they were not as terrible as he’d guessed. Though they look human, they no longer have the sense of smell as they used to and they simply move based on instincts, triggered by the movements of their prey. But they’re freakishly strong and fast, and even though Mark’s pretty capable of handling his own fight during high school, these creatures can easily break his arm and leg at the same time before Mark can even begin. So he survives by keeping a safe distance, shooting them in the heads or right in their hearts—because those two are their only weaknesses—before they even notice him being there and just does his best to hide during night time.

Mark breathes in and curls his fingers tightly around his handgun. It’s really a blessing, he supposes, that he managed to find a handgun with enough amount of bullets in the drawer of his neighbour’s house. And he really does thank the Lord for giving him the chance to learn how to hunt birds back when he was young with his father during summer. He may lack physical strength, but he’s fast on his feet and good with his eyes. Combined with luck, it’s the very reason he’s survived all these months by himself.

Mark avoids dark places where the sunlight can’t reach at all cost, so he usually doesn’t barge into a house with wooden boards covering its windows and doors like this but he’s starving and this was the closest place available that he could get on foot. Maybe someone used to live here, hiding from them by making a temporary fortress of their own house.

He tries calling again, hoping that someone is still alive but he huffs in disappointment when nobody answers. “Better luck next time, Mark.”

He carefully looks around, making sure he’s safe and alone in the house as he steps toward the kitchen. When he’s certain that everything is under control, he places his gun on the kitchen’s counter and begins to check the drawers, taking every canned food and water bottle he can find into his backpack. He’s so happy to finally find something he’s been dying to drink—a canned watermelon juice—when an arm suddenly circles around his neck and a tip of a spear point knife pressed against his throat.

“Don’t move.”

It takes a few seconds for Mark’s brain to process that it’s a human voice and it’s already sending a relieved, almost joyful feeling all over his body before it finally sinks that this human is now about to slice his throat open with his knife.

“Don’t you think it’s impolite to barge into someone’s house and steal their food?” The human—a man with a voice sounding young enough to be around his age or perhaps younger—asks with a poisonous tone laced on his tongue. “Step away from the counter.”

But despite his snarky tone, Mark can tell he’s nervous from the way he breathes rather raggedly behind him. Mark has learned some basic hand-to-hand combat techniques during his scouting days and he figures he knows how to struggle himself free. He’s just lacking some practices, that’s all.

Well, there’s always a first for everything.

Elbowing the other man hard on the stomach, Mark dips his head down, freeing himself from the other man’s hold and lurches forward to snatch back his gun. Mark already has his gun in his hand but the man steps faster before he can point it to his face. He knees Mark on his stomach, pushing the air out of his lungs and shoves him down to the floor, face first. He punches the gun out of his hand, turns Mark’s body around and straddles him by the waist. Grabbing him by the collar of his black shirt, he lifts Mark’s head high enough in the air so they’re face-to-face.

“Do you want to die, you little shit?!” He screams, knife pressing hard against Mark’s throat that it begins to draw blood. Mark winces from the pain but he takes a moment to see the other man’s face.

He’s young, probably is younger than he is, with a mop of messy ash grey with new brown strands growing at the roots. He has his bangs falling over his big, round chocolate dark eyes. His skin is sun-kissed, and though he sprouts expletives from his mouth, his voice is thin and a bit high-pitched. His features are a bit soft compared to his attitude, and it’s the way he stares at him that stops Mark from moving.

This young man looks terrified beyond belief.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and he genuinely does feel so. “I wasn’t aware that someone was in the house.”

“I think I made that clear before when I told you to not fucking move.”

“You’re right. I guess my instincts just kicked in. Wouldn’t you have done the same thing, though?”

He opens his mouth to retort but loses his words, and Mark smiles a little at him, earning a low growl and another shout from the other man. “Don’t you get all smart with me. Come here!”

Mark is being dragged down across the room by the back of his shirt, until the man finds himself a rope and ties Mark’s hands together behind his back. He pushes Mark down to the floor, tucks his knife safely to the back of his jeans and stares down at him with cautious eyes.

“Who are you?”

“Mark Lee.”

“You’re weak and skinny as fuck. How are you still alive?”

“I don’t know. Lucky, I guess?”

“Lucky—“ He seems shocked at the nonchalant shrug Mark is showing him. “You’ve never met any of them, have you?”

“You mean other people?”

“You know what I mean.”

Of course Mark knows what he’s referring to. He just doesn’t want to talk about it. “I don’t go out at night,” he says, slightly shivering at the thought of doing so.

“No shit, Sherlock,” He mocks, squatting in front of him so they’re eye-to-eye. “Now if I haven’t made it clear before, this house is too small for both of us. I suggest you leave.”

That’s a generous offer considering Mark did barge in without permission to steal his things, but it’s been so long for Mark to finally see another human—one that does not bleed from their face or tries to eat him alive inch by inch—so he stays still and just gazes at him.

“What are you looking at, you little shit?”

“Are you alone?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you want to come together with me?” Mark asks, and before the other man looks disgusted with his generous offer, he adds, “Judging by the food you have left, you can only stay here for three days at most.”

“Longer than if I come with you, I’m sure.”

“Fair enough,” Mark chuckles and he’s surprised by his own voice. “But you never know, though. We’re stronger in numbers.”

“We’ll be targeted more in numbers.”

“I know how to hide,” Mark assures, and it sounds like a promise, which again, kind of surprises him. “I can keep you safe.”

“I literally just whooped your ass.”

“But I’ve survived this far. Trust me. It’s better if we stick together.”

It’s perhaps the certain, confident look in Mark’s eyes that makes the other man contemplates in silence, or maybe just something else entirely because he asks, “What kind of shit have you been through?”

Mark blinks. “Just like everybody else, I suppose.”

Mark can tell that he doesn’t agree with what he says, nor does he trust him, but Mark smiles again at him and asks, “Can you tell me your name? Or should I start calling you ‘little shit’ as well?”

“You’re not very cute, are you?” The man sighs, running a hand through his hair. It looks kind of fluffy, Mark notices, like a furry dog’s coat, as if he washes his hair regularly. And maybe he does, judging by the honey-like scent that comes from him. That’s probably why he lost the battle. He was distracted. “Just call me Haechan.”

“That’s your real name?”

“That’s just how they call me.” He glooms a bit. “Used to, anyway.”

“Well, you can call me Mark.”

“Nah, I’m just gonna keep calling you ‘little shit’.”

“You’re not very cute, are you?” Mark throws back his words at him.

“I’ll grow on you,” he replies, smirking at him and Mark feels dazed for a second—maybe because he got his head slammed against the floor earlier. Maybe.

“All right, Haechannie. Can I call you that?” Haechan grimaces but Mark continues nonetheless. “Haechannie, if it’s okay with you, I’m starving.”

Haechan stands up, looking at him with a bewildered look on his face. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

***

It’s funny how different it is to make friends during the time when everything is okay compared to when it’s at the end of the world but Mark is enjoying Haechan’s company more than he thought he would. It’s true that he’s not the easiest person to be friends with but when you haven’t met someone alive for months, you’d take anyone you could get—even if that person is a devil in disguise who practically spits fire every time he talks.

Haechan, Mark learns after spending an entire week with him, is the type of person who says mean things but doesn’t really mean it. Who laughs when he’s hurting inside. Who bites back with venom when someone insults him in the slightest way. But also, who sees and cares deeply for others even when he, himself, is needing help.

Mark can tell with the way Haechan secretly throws a blanket over him whenever Mark falls deep asleep on the couch. Or with the way he casually glides a warm cup of coffee down the table for Mark to catch every morning. Or simply by saying, “Watch your steps,” or “Be careful, you idiot,” whenever Mark goes out of the house to find some food and supplies during the day.

After three more days have passed, Mark insists for both of them to move out and Haechan finally agrees, saying, “I hate this house anyway,” even though his eyes do a double-take before he closes the front door.

“Is this your house?” Mark finally asks and he feels sorry for dragging him along like this but it’s for the sake of their safety.

Haechan, to Mark’s surprise, shakes his head and only mumbles, “Just had some memory with it.”

Mark slings an arm around his shoulders. “Then let’s just make another one. A much more fun one.”

Haechan smiles, but it’s bitter.

***

“I can’t believe you’ve never even tried to drive a car,” Haechan says, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple as he tries to hotwire a car. His black sleeveless shirt is sticking to his skin, and his plump cheeks are painted with tints of red from the heat. Mark has to remind himself to look away before he stares too long at how the muscles on his upper arm flex whenever he hammers a flathead screwdriver into a keyhole.

They had to choose between an Audi and a Wrangler, and Mark loved the Audi and Haechan probably did too but he always picked the opposite of Mark’s choice to spite him so they ended up with an eight-year-old Wrangler with a lot of scratches on the side.

“Well, I love walking.”

“What a load of bullshit, Mark.”

“What—it’s true! And also, it’s expensive, okay? I don’t steal expensive things. It makes me feel guilty.” Mark tries to add some common sense which makes Haechan roll his eyes in return. “Besides, I don’t have a driving license yet.”

“Neither do I, wimp, but I still drive.” He chucks out his screwdriver with a proud smirk on his face. The car’s engine is running loud—too loud for Mark’s liking but as long as it’s daylight, they should be fine.

“Driving without a license is irresponsible.” Mark puts his seatbelt on as he sits next to him on the front seat with his backpack tucked between his legs. “And dangerous.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right, I better stop before I get arrested by the nonexistent police officers around here.”

Mark sighs. There’s no winning an argument against this kid. They bicker more often than not, and just when they reach the end of their bickering, they will bicker again over a new topic and it really just goes endlessly but Mark is enjoying every second of it.

Haechan drives like a mad man to the point that Mark has to close his eyes and swallow the vomit that’s about to erupt from his mouth. “Jesus Christ, Haechan-ah, shouldn’t you slow down a bit?!”

“Why, because there’s traffic ahead?” Haechan snickers, turning the car window next to him all the way down and smiling as the wind ruffles his hair. “Loosen up a little, Canada, you need to live and enjoy the moment.”

Mark wheezes and almost faints when Haechan suddenly makes a u-turn just for fun before he steps on the gas again, blasting through the empty road. They’re now crossing the Seongsu Bridge, which overlooks the infamous Han River and weirdly enough, the entire place is empty—not even one car in sight—and Mark remembers how the government tried to isolate the country and lock people in their own houses to contain the outbreak. That’s probably why.

“I am trying to live,” Mark says as he clutches his seatbelt tightly with both hands. “Which is the more reason why you should be care—BRAKES, HIT THE BRAKES!”

And Haechan does, almost at the last moment before their jeep jumps into the river. The rest of the bridge has collapsed and Haechan was too busy looking at how clear and big the river was to notice the part where they’re about to fall off the edge.

Well, fuck, Mark thinks, so this is why there are no cars around.

Mark looks at Haechan with the most menacing, sadistic glare he’s ever made in his life. The younger man, in return, only grins mischievously and says, “Oops?”

They begin their search for a place to stay with Mark sitting behind the wheel this time. Haechan constantly whines and whines and whines about his driving not because he’s bad at it—he’s actually pretty good though Haechan won’t admit—but because he’s too fucking slow.

“Who the fuck drives twenty miles-per-hour on an empty street?!”

“People who nearly died from driving too fast, that’s who.”

“I hate you.”

“I’ll grow on you.”

They take a stop at the gas station to fill up the tank and Haechan steals three bags of Cheetos, four bottles of beer for himself and one bottle of mineral water for Mark because you’re the designated driver and Mark punches him on the shoulder.

***

“This house is nice.” Haechan settles down on the leather-clad sofa, throwing his bag on the floor and propping his legs on the table. “I think we should just stay here and never move out. Ever.”

It is a nice house. It’s not particularly huge, and it doesn’t have a second floor or a balcony which is completely fine. It’s safer that way, and it also has a basement with a comfy couch, a pile of board games, and a wine cellar. They can really use that to hide during critical moments, but he better checks it thoroughly first because again, those… things really enjoy dark places.

“We’ll see about that,” Mark responses, exhaling in relief when he’s sure that the place is safe. No zombies in sight. No trace of blood or human flesh. Just a nice, warm house with ultra-wide flat-screen TV and the latest version of PlayStation. Yeah, they probably should just stay here forever.

“Haechannie,” Mark starts but finishes early when he sees the young man sleeping with his puffy lips slightly parted. Mark smiles, he must’ve been so tired. They have been wandering for hours after all, trying to look for the best place to stay. But the sun is setting, and they have to cover all the windows and the doors to make sure that the zombies won’t be able to hear their voices or see their movements during the night.

“Haechannie,” Mark says, softer this time as he leans closer. “Haechan-ah, wake up. We still have work to do.”

There’s this sound that Haechan makes, somewhere between a soft moan and a sultry whine, that makes Mark feel a bit weird but he pushes the thoughts to the back of his head when Haechan slowly opens his eyes.

“Ugh,” he says, yawning, “You again.”

And Mark chuckles a bit. “Sorry, were you expecting someone else?” It was supposed to be a joke, but Haechan freezes at his words. “Haechannie?”

“What?” He asks, trying to act as normal as possible but Mark catches on. “Stop calling my name like that, it’s gross.” He stands up before Mark can blurt anything else and immediately says, “Come on, start working. I wanna sleep early.”

They sleep in different rooms like always, only this time, Mark spends his night staring at the ceiling and wonders whether he said something wrong earlier. But no matter how much he visited his memory and replayed the conversation, he still couldn’t find his fault. He remembered the hurting look Haechan had on his face, though, and it bothered him so much that he began to lose sleep.

The next morning, Mark feels even worse not solely because he didn’t catch much rest but because Haechan looks like he’s been crying himself to sleep.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks, staring at the other man’s face as if Haechan is about to turn into a zombie.

“Are you okay?” Haechan is clearly trying to distract Mark away from him. “You look like you haven’t slept for years.”

“I was…” Mark fumbles with his words. “Distracted, I guess.”

“With what?”

He doesn’t answer and Haechan spends a few seconds analyzing him before he finally sighs and grumbles, “I guess we both have secrets. I’m gonna make some pancakes. Want some?”

Mark lightly nods though his heart still lays heavy in his chest. But if there are things he can’t tell, then maybe Haechan does too. Maybe all they need is time.

But time is limited in this world, even more so than before.

***

“Have you taken a shower yet?” Haechan asks with a towel hanging around his neck. His hair is damp and he sniffles with his nose slightly red from the cold. “No, wait, let me rephrase that. Have you ever taken a shower?”

Mark begins to count the little holes on the wooden floor  underneath his feet to avoid looking at the way Haechan’s jeans are hanging dangerously low on his hips, or the droplets of water that drips from his chin to his bare chest.

“Get dressed, Haechan-ah, aren’t you cold?”

“No, the heater is on.” But he still sniffs as he picks up his hoodie. “Look, I know I’ve been calling you little shit but that doesn’t give you the authority to actually smell like one.”

“Huh,” Mark takes a hold of his shirt, sniffing against the fabric. “Wow, I do kind of smell.”

“Kind of? I’m shocked that these zombies haven’t found us already from how god awful you smell.”

“Don’t call them zombies, you’re being rude.”

“What the fuck do you call them?”

“Sick people?”

“Jesus Christ, I literally can’t with you.” He sits down next to him on the other side of the couch, pressing his back against the furniture and stares at the ceiling. “What are we having for breakfast today?”

“Canned food.”

“Dinner?”

“Canned food.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Wait, I think we can eat…” Mark doesn’t finish right away, making sure that Haechan has a hopeful look blossoming on his face. When he does, he finishes with, “Canned food.”

“Aaaaaah~” He whines in the way Haechan always whines which sounds kind of childish but endearing to Mark’s ears. “I’m so tired of having fucking canned foods every day!”

“Be grateful that we have food.”

“I’d be more grateful if we have real food. Can’t you make yourself useful for once and cook something?”

“We don’t really have the ingredients.”

“Then I guess, we’re going shopping.” Haechan huffs before he glances at the slightly taller man. “After you take a goddamn shower.”

Mark can no longer remember when was the last time he took a shower—and a nice, warm one at that—so he almost weeps in joy when the warm droplets rain down on him, washing all the dust and fatigue away from his body. He stands still, enjoying the warmth before he reaches out for some soap and lathers it down his skin. He notices he has some bruises along his arm from where he tripped down the stairs yesterday, trying to help Haechan carry a medium-sized cupboard to cover the front door. I can’t believe you couldn’t even keep yourself up even when I’m practically handling all the weight, Haechan scolded him with both hands on his hips and it makes him smile at the thought.

But the bruises remind him of the pain he felt and pain reminds him of his mother. Of the way she suddenly jolted her eyes awake after five days had passed. Of the way she bared her teeth, lurched herself toward him, and tried to bury her fangs and peel the skin off his body. Of the way he shook in horror, screaming in pain and the way he begged her to stop.

And of the way he sank the kitchen’s knife to her chest and kept it that way until she stopped moving.

“What took you so long?” Haechan asks when Mark finally steps outside the bathroom after half an hour has passed. He observes the look on his face before he adds, “How can you look even shittier after taking a shower? Your eyes are swollen.”

Mark rubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, I kinda cried while in there.”

“Because the shower was so good?”

“Sure.”

And Haechan doesn’t contribute any further, perhaps because of the way Mark looks like it’s something private they should both leave out of the conversation. Or maybe Haechan simply doesn’t care, Mark can’t be sure.

Mark doesn’t recognize the neighbourhood they’re in, so he lets Haechan leads the way to the nearest supermarket. The morning sun is warm on his skin, the leaves on the trees are turning orange and Mark can finally smell autumn after so long. He has grown tired of summer. It’s about damn time.

“Oh, I actually know this place,” Mark mentions, as they park their car a few feet away from the building.

“Congratulations, you just won at life,” Haechan utters flatly, taking three sheathed knives from his backpack and places them around the belt of his jeans.

“Must you be so rude all the time?”

“Just messing with you, Canada. Chill.”

“Why don’t you take any guns with you?”

“Because guns run out of bullets pretty fast. And these,” he stops with a smirk on his face, twirling a pocket knife around his fingers, “don’t.”

“Can you teach me sometimes how to use that?”

“And what do you have to offer, may I ask?”

Mark contemplates in silence. He really doesn’t have anything that might interest him, so he decides to joke about it. “My body?”

To his surprise, Haechan’s eyes grow wide and he doesn’t speak a word and it’s so weird because it’s supposed to be a fucking joke.

“I… I was just—” Mark splutters, blushing at his own antic. “I was just kidding.”

“It’s not funny, Mark.”

“Sorry.”

And Haechan lets out the loudest sigh ever before he steps down the car, leaving Mark inside looking like a goddamn idiot that he is.

“Okay, so,” Haechan straightens his posture, standing in front of the entrance door with his machete lays firmly on his hand. “Do we need a plan?”

“I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Oh, come on, Mark,” Haechan whines. “Yes, I know we can barely get any sunlight inside the store but we’re not going to take long. We’ll just grab some things and run back here. Even if there are zombies in there, they’ll be burnt to a crisp the second we’re outside.”

“But—”

“Marrrrkkkkkk.”

“Okay, okay, fine!” Mark pushes his hair back with one hand in defeat. “I’ll go first,” he says, cocking his handgun. “You watch my back.”

“Why do you have to go first?”

“Because I’m older.”

“But you’re shittier than me.”

“With a gun on my hand? Not as shitty as you’d think.” Mark smirks, and he thinks he sounds cool but by the way Haechan is staring at him, he realizes he’s not. A flashback of Haechan completely overpowering him even when he had his gun came back to his mind and he winces at the thought. “Okay, so, you wanna go first?”

Haechan sighs, taking a step forward. Mark trails after him soon after.

Mark remembers this place, knows every aisle like the back of his hand from how often he accompanied his mother to stock up their groceries every weekend. It doesn’t look like what he’d committed in his memory in the slightest, though. The lights are still on, but they’re flickering here and there and ceramic tiles are mostly covered with liquid stuff coming from bleachers, oils or something Mark can no longer tell. Most of the shelves are empty and a lot of goods are thrown all over the place, but  fortunately, they’re not ruined.

Mark analyzes the place as best as he can with Haechan leading the way, doing the same. Everything seems fine and he can see Haechan’s shoulders relaxed a bit after a while. Swirling his knife around his fingers, he says, “I guess we’re alone.”

Mark nods. “All right,” he puts his gun on safety. “Let’s shop.”

Haechan says he wanted to eat some pasta for a change, and Mark follows with a hum. Anything other than canned foods sounds good these days. They stroll around the aisle, taking the necessary ingredients into their bags along with some toiletries and an abundance amount of water bottles.

Mark notices some board games when Haechan is busy flipping through pages of a Playboy magazine and he takes one that suits Haechan’s taste so they can spend more time together.

Mark freezes at the thought. Since when did he begin to want to spend time together with this pain in the ass?

“Yo, little shit,” Haechan calls, and Mark sighs. “Come here for a sec.”

Mark sneaks a glance over Haechan’s shoulders and feels his heart stops for a split second. “That’s—”

“Blood,” Haechan finishes, exchanging glances at him. “We’re not alone.”

Mark is still processing it down when a loud noise suddenly comes from two aisles behind them. With his heart jumping to his throat, Mark keeps his hands steady and points his gun forward. Haechan looms behind him, taking a long knife from the back of his shirt in another hand and stands alert.

“If it’s more than one, we run.”

“Don’t order me around, you little shit.”

But at this point, Mark knows how much Haechan depends on him and will follow his order in a heartbeat, which is kinda cute and reassuring, Mark thinks, as he swallows his breath. He’s prepared for the worst but what comes along is—

“It’s a dog!” Haechan claims, tucking both of his knives back around his belt and squats down on the floor next to Mark. “Come here, boy!”

It’s a Yellow Spitz, Mark notices, or a Nureongi people used to call. It has a short coat with patches of yellow and a melanistic mask on its face. By the sound of Haechan’s call, the dog comes running toward him with its mouth opened wide and its tongue lolling down.

“Ouch!” Haechan is laughing, enjoying the forceful tackle from the excited dog, and rubbing his hands along the fur. “Who’s a good boy?” He asks, rubbing the tip of his nose to the dog’s. “Yes, you are, you are a good boy—wait, no—“ Haechan grimaces when the dog licks his entire face, saliva blabbering over his skin but he laughs it off.

Mark stands on the side with a smile he secretly keeps to himself. He has never seen Haechan looking so young and open, like a child on his first trip, and it amuses him. “I didn’t know you could look like this,” he comments. “You should smile more often. It’s cute.”

Mark’s a bit taken by the look that fleets across Haechan’s face for a split second, and he swears that he just saw him blush but it’s too short to be sure about it.

“Maybe if you grow some fur, I will,” Haechan merely comments before he sticks his tongue out at him.

Mark only playfully rolls his eyes in response.

“Can we keep him?” Haechan’s asks as he cups the dog’s face and nuzzles their noses together. “You are so cute!”

“No. What happens if he barks?”

“But he doesn’t bark.” The dog suddenly barks two times and Haechan immediately wraps his fingers along its jaw to keep its mouth shut. “Or I can just do this whenever he does.” The dog growls, trying to wiggle itself away from Haechan’s grip. It suddenly looks nervous, almost terrified.

“Haechan,” Mark insists, “He’ll only attract attention. You know we can’t—”

“MARK, WATCH OUT—”

It happens so fast that by the time he realizes what’s happening, Mark is already on the ground, his back pressed against the ceramic floor with a zombie on top of him, baring his teeth and clawing at his skin. It’s in the form of a middle-aged man, in a cashier uniform with cloudy white eyes and dark veins covering his skin.

Luckily, Mark already has his hands in front of him, pushing that thing as far away as he could manage but it’s too strong. The zombie roars, spraying saliva mixed with blood onto his face and Mark immediately throws his head to the side. “Fuck!” He hisses, kicking it several times with his knee but it won’t budge, until suddenly a knife makes it way to its head, pushing through its brain and ending its life for good.

Haechan stares at Mark with horrified eyes, before he kneels down in front of him and immediately checks his face.

“Did you get his blood in your mouth?!” He asks frantically, worried to death by the look of it, almost like it was him who just got sprayed with zombie’s blood.

“I don’t think I did,” Mark says, still feeling quite dizzy.

“Spit it out!” Haechan shakes him desperately by the shoulders. “Spit everything out! Now!”

Mark doesn’t understand why he’s so afraid—because aren’t they both supposed to be immune to the virus?—but spits out a few times just in case. He rubs the back of his hand against his mouth before he turns toward the other man. “Thanks for saving me.”

And Mark thought that Haechan was going to sigh loudly at him and call him an idiot little shit for a few times on their way home, but what he does is lean forward and wrap his arms tightly around Mark’s shoulders.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmurs almost in a whisper, before he pulls back, clears his throat and adds, “You little shit. You’re lucky you have me saving your ass.”

Well, Mark supposes, he’s partially right about his thought. “I am.”

Haechan blushes again, but he doesn’t let Mark see.

“Come on, we should get under the sun,” Haechan says, offering a hand which Mark gladly takes. “If there are more of them, we should be safe as long we’re outside.”

“Still want to take that dog with you?”

“Shut up, little shit.”

***

“Come on, you have to pick truth,” Mark says, with a guitar on his lap, playing random chord that matches Haechan’s hums. It’s still two hours away before the sun sets and they have been spending the entire day just lounging around watching old movies and playing stupid board games. “It’s called Truth or Dare for a reason, Haechannie, and I’m already out of ideas of what kind of dare you should do because apparently, you have no fear—or shame for that matter—when it comes to it.”

“You’re just not creative enough,” Haechan says, smirking to himself because he’s undefeated when it comes to taking a dare. Whenever Mark tries to humiliate him, it ends up with Haechan humiliating him instead. “Okay, fine, truth it is. Give it to me, you little shit.”

“You do realize that I’m your hyung, right?”

“Well, then, give it to me, Little Shit-hyung.” Haechan snickers and Mark throws his shoe at him.

“When’s your birthday?” Mark asks, munching a chocolate cookie.

“That’s your question?” Haechan exclaims. “Shit, Mark, I know you’re boring but I never thought you’d be this boring.”

“I just want to know you better!” Mark laughs when Haechan starts throwing Cheetos at him. “What is so wrong with that? You know you’d never tell me these things if I didn’t force you to do it.”

“Fine, geez,” Haechan succumbs, “Sixth of June.”

“Wait, let me put that in real quick.” Mark takes out his cellphone from the pocket of his jeans. It can no longer make calls or surf the internet, but it can come in handy to keep himself on track with dates and times. “Sixth of June,” he mutters to himself as he taps his thumb on his phone screen.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m adding your birthday to my calendar.”

“Yes, I know, Mark.” Haechan rolls his eyes impatiently. “I mean, why?”

“Why?” Mark laughs a bit, looking at him bewilderedly. “‘Cause we’re friends, you idiot.”

“We are?” Haechan dramatically gasps, which earns him a kick on the knee and he whines loudly about it.

“I just think we should celebrate it together,” Mark continues without a care. “Well, starting next year anyway, since we’ve both passed our birthdays by now. One sec.” He holds up a finger, running his thumb on his screen again. “Sixth of June. Little Shit’s birthday. And save.”

Haechan glares but doesn’t make any remark on it. “What’s there to celebrate about?” He questions flatly. “The world is ending, if you haven’t noticed.”

“And that’s your reason to not celebrate birthdays?” Mark snorts. “I know you’re boring but I never thought you’d be this boring.”

“I am going to strangle you.”

Mark kicks him playfully on the knee again and they begin to wrestle until they become hungry. After quickly heating up some leftovers from the night before, they head toward their bedrooms.

“Stay quiet, little shit,” Haechan says, as he leans against his doorframe. “And if you’re gonna jack off—“

Mark throws a pillow on his face. “Just go to bed!”

“Okay, okay,” Haechan chuckles. “See you soon, Mark.”

“See you soon, Haechannie.”

Before Mark knows it, those words they say to each other become some kind of habit that they do every night. And the more they say them, the more they become like a promise for one another. It’s something that Mark needs, he realizes, because now he has someone to look forward to see in the morning. Someone with smiles as warm as the sun. And Mark can forget, at least for now, the fact that he’d lost everything and try to stay alive for another day.

***

Autumn is about to end and the weather is terrible for  Mark during the night, as he can barely stand cold. He can turn on the heater, of course, but it will probably make too much noise so both he and Haechan agree to just slip under the duvet, and wrap as many blankets as they can find around their bodies.

Mark jolts awake when he hears his bedroom door being opened with a soft creak. His ears are now trained to keep himself alert at night, even with the slightest sound. He has one leg down the bed, ready to do whatever it takes to survive if a zombie comes barging in. His handgun lays safely under his pillow and it will only take a second for him to grab it. He had tampered his window with wood boards on the first day they’d settled here, but the moonlight still somehow sneaks in between the tiny spaces, giving very little light into the room but it’s enough for Mark to notice that it’s only Haechan, standing with his pillow pressed against his chest, a blanket around his body, and a pale look on his face.

What happened? Mark asks, moving his hands and fingers in a sign language they have both learned to survive. Is something wrong?

I can’t sleep. Haechan says, and Mark can’t really tell within the darkness of the room whether it’s a blush appearing on his cheeks or it’s just the moonlight playing tricks on him. Can I stay here with you?

Mark nods, and Haechan walks close, settling himself down on the carpeted floor next to the bed. Mark taps his shoulder and when Haechan looks over, he nudges his head toward the bed.

Come up. It’s cold.

Haechan nibbles on his bottom lip, hesitation in his eyes, but he finally stands up and wiggles himself under the blanket. Mark scoots over to give him as much space as he can, and they both end up staring at the ceiling, awkwardness and silence filling the air.

It seems like a minute has passed by but it feels like forever and Mark is about to throw up from how fast his heart is beating and he’s asking himself why the fuck am I feeling like this when Haechan suddenly turns over to his side and whispers his name.

Mark can feel his own body stiffen but he tries his best to relax. He turns to his side as well, facing him. “Hmm?”

“Can I move closer?” He asks and Mark’s stomach does a flip. “So I can hear you better, I mean.”

“S-sure.”

And Haechan moves close—close enough for Mark to breath in his scent, to know that he uses the same shampoo as he does even though there are three different kinds of bottles in the bathroom, and it somehow smells way better on him and Mark doesn’t know what to do with it but it distracts him so much.

“You okay?” Haechan’s voice is soft and lacks the usual snarky tone he usually laces his sentence with. Mark nods, a bit shakily and the younger man giggles quietly. “I know it’s uncomfortable sharing a bed with another dude but bear with me this time, will ya?”

“It’s…” Somehow, Mark’s throat feels like burning. “It’s not uncomfortable.”

Something gleams in Haechan’s eyes and Mark has to look somewhere else so he doesn’t fall deeper into that pair of chocolate brown eyes more than he already does.

“So, uhh,” Mark clears his throat. It’s weird that even when he’s whispering, his voice still breaks from how nervous he is. “Is there a particular reason why you can’t sleep?”

“Why so formal, Mark Lee.” Haechan snorts. “Must there be a particular reason for us to sleep together?”

Mark almost chokes at Haechan’s poor choice of words. Almost.

“How many hours left till dawn?”

“Umm,” Mark checks his phone, making sure he covers the light with his pillow. “It’s actually around two hours from now.”

“Well then, you’ve slept enough,” Haechan says, propping his chin on the pillow as he stares at him. “Accompany me till morning?”

“Sure, why not.”

And so he does, exchanging whispers in the dark and changing topics from one nonsense to another. Talking with Haechan is relaxing, Mark notices, though more often than not, it ends with an argument but he enjoys arguing with him. It feels like he’s learning more about him, more about the real Haechan—the one who is acting almost as young as a child—and not whatever it is he’s trying his best to be. And Mark is always happy to learn something new because he’s been studying Haechan’s figure over and over for the last few days and it’s tiring to be distracted by the shape of his pretty lips, or the cute tiny mole he has on his neck, or the sway of his hips when he walks.

“Are you sleepy?” Haechan asks after silence starts to grow within them and Mark curses inwardly. How the hell can I sleep when I’m so distracted with the way I can feel your breath on my neck is what he has in mind but on the outside, he just gives a nonchalant shrug and says, “Not really.”

“Good then.” Mark swears he can feel Haechan’s smile in his words and he can also feel the way he snuggles a tad closer, seeking his warmth. “Hey, Mark?” Mark hums in response. “How come you’re alone? I mean, someone as nice and frail as you can only live so long in a world like this without company.”

“I’m not sure whether you want to compliment me or insult me.”

“I just want to know more about you.”

It’s sincere and genuine, the way Haechan says it, and Mark raises an eyebrow, finally looking into his eyes again. “That’s a first. I thought you didn’t care about me.”

It’s Haechan’s turn to break off their gazes. “Believe me, I don’t. It’s just out of curiosity. Wha—is it so wrong? Stop looking at me like that!”

Mark bites his bottom lip to contain his laughter. “You’re cute.”

“Shut up!”

“Well, if you’re so curious about it,” Mark teases and Haechan pushes his palm against his face to wipe off his grin. Mark wraps his fingers around Haechan’s wrist to keep him away but he holds it a little bit longer than he’s supposed to before he lets go.

“I was staying with my parents when the outbreak happened,” Mark begins, locking his eyes at the ceiling and he can feel Haechan’s gaze scanning his face but he doesn’t dare to look. “Someone near my house got infected, and it traveled so fast that by the time I realized that the virus was airborne, people were already dying. And I—” Mark stops to take a breath, closing his eyes for a moment as the flashback hits him like a wave.

Haechan doesn’t say a word, but he reaches out to tangle his fingers around his under the blanket and Mark blinks at the touch before he smiles to himself.

“I watched my dad died,” Mark finally says, and it’s easier than he expected to be, probably because Haechan’s warmth is seeping into his skin. “It happened so fast. He was sitting on the dining table, already looking pale because of cancer that took him apart day by day, but the second he got infected, it was like something was exploding within him. And I watched him crumble, watched him reaching out to me for help and I just stood there. Watching him.”

Haechan holds his hand tighter. “There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

Mark smiles weakly at him. “Thanks. I just wish I did something for him, you know? Like, hold his hand and tell him I love him, or something.”

“You were stunned.”

“I was just weak and afraid.” Mark unconsciously curls his fingers a bit harder that Haechan begins to wince but he doesn’t say anything about it. “I was so afraid that I’d die, just like him. It was until I found out I was immune that I began to cry and regret the whole thing. I’m the worst, aren’t I?”

Haechan shakes his head, whispering, “I would’ve done the same. Maybe even worse,” he adds a chuckle and it’s so genuine that Mark begins to feel like the heavy pain in his chest is being lifted little by little. “And your mom? What happened to her?”

It’s the question he’s been dreading the most but Haechan’s voice is silky smooth in his ears, and his touch is scorching against his skin, and as Mark breathes in his scent, everything becomes clear.

There’s a first for everything.

“My mom—” It still feels like he’s suffocating, so he intertwines his fingers with Haechan’s a little better to distract him from the pain. “When she got infected, she fell into a deep sleep. Like she went into a coma or something. And I was relieved because I thought she was going to wake up and smile at me again. I thought that her body was healing. I didn’t realize that she was… turning.”

Haechan’s breathing is steady while Mark’s is catching fire. “Mark, look at me.” And when Mark is too lost in his own thoughts, Haechan cups his cheek and forces him to look at him. “You’re okay. You’re with me now.”

Mark’s eyes are shaking but he gradually finds back his pace, finally able to catch his own breath. “I’m with you now,” he whispers back and Haechan smiles.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Haechan says, rubbing comforting circles on the side of Mark’s face with his thumb. “And I kinda have a hunch on where this story is going.”

“You—“ Mark wets his lips. “You do?”

Haechan’s gaze is intense but gentle enough to wash Mark’s anxiety away. “All I have to say is,” Haechan starts, “We all have our sins. What you did was based on instinct. You were trying to protect yourself. Anyone would’ve done the same thing so stop blaming yourself.”

Mark doesn’t realize he’s crying until Haechan wipes a tear away from his cheek. “You’re innocent, Mark Lee,” he assures, smiling at him. “You’re just living in a shitty world, that’s all.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mark says, smiling a little to himself as he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, washing all of his tears away. “Who are you and what have you done to my snarky-ass Haechan?”

“Your Haechan?”

Mark blushes. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Haechan’s eyes gleam in a teasing manner. “What way then?”

Mark clears his throat. Hopefully, the night can cover how nervous he looks right now. “So, what about you?” He begins, putting his best effort to change topics. “What kind of sins have you committed that you start getting nightmares at night?”

The easy-going, reassuring facade Haechan tries to put on all night falters within an instant and this time, in the darkness and the silence of this room, he chooses to be honest.

“No,” he starts, exhaling heavily. “Nightmares happen only when you’re asleep. What I have happens when I’m awake.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“It’s not something I want,” he murmurs quietly. “But I guess, it’s something I need. Otherwise, I’ll go crazy. I am going crazy.” He locks their gazes together, smiling like he’s on the verge of crying. “Would you mind hearing me out?”

Mark will listen as if his life depends on it and he promises him that in his heart. He nods.

“Promise you won’t judge me?”

Another nod.

“Promise you won’t leave me behind?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Haechan still looks unsure, but the more he takes in Mark’s feature and every detail of his expression, the more he wants to let go—to finally succumb to his sin, to hear someone say, “It’s okay, I forgive you. We all have our sins. We are not different.”

So in shaky whispers, he begins to tell the story and Mark listens.

Haechan was not alone before he met Mark. He had a family. He had a sister, only younger than he was by two years, and he’d loved her. He’d loved her so much that when his parents started to collapse, he took a hold of her hand and drag her to run without looking back even when his mother was still screaming his name, asking him for help. He knew it was too late to save them, but saving his sister was not.

Her sister, just like him, was also immune to the virus and Haechan thought everything was fine. They could still live and be happy together. So they began to wander during the day, and hugged each other to sleep during the night at an abandoned house, sharing headphones to mute down the snarling sounds of the creatures lurking around under the moonlight. They were okay. They were alive.

Until one day, when Haechan was too busy getting supplies from the kitchen, her sister wandered by herself toward the basement of a new house they found. Haechan didn’t know about it, wasn’t careful enough to check, and when he heard her scream, he realized it was too late.

There was a zombie, trapped inside the basement that crawled out when she opened the door. It was so fast, jumping on top of her and ripping the skin on her arm with its teeth. Haechan was so frantic that he began to stab it multiple times on the face, tearing its face apart again and again and again until his sister embraced him from behind and begged him to stop. Haechan held her in his arms like he’d never held anyone before and he thanked God for letting her stay alive, though badly injured.

Because he thought her injury would heal.

He thought she wouldn’t get infected because she was immune.

But when she became paler and paler with more days passing by, Haechan began to worry. Her skin began to rot little by little, and her stench was so strong that Haechan began to hold his breath whenever she was close. Black veins were creeping up her skin and she lost her beautiful brown eyes soon after, having them changed into a pair of cloudy white eyes.

Haechan was so afraid by the look of her that he began to apologize. Sorry, I’m sorry, please forgive me, he said again and again as he wrapped a scarf around her mouth, stopping her from calling his name. She was begging for him to spare her life and yet he held his knife firmly with both of his shaking hands, and he plunged it toward her chest.

She died in his hands, along with a part of him.

“She was still human when I killed her,” Haechan confesses, his voice quivering. “She kept asking me why, why are you doing this but I kept going. I can still remember how warm her blood was on my hands. I was so afraid. I was so afraid of her.”

Mark does not speak during his story and he finds himself lost for words when Haechan grows quiet. The silence is deafening and he knows he should say something, anything, but he’s busy trying to understand the look on Haechan’s face.

Their breathing matches each other’s and Haechan quietly laughs, “You know, it’s weird. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cry but—”

And he breaks apart in the way Mark never sees anyone does.

Haechan’s whole body shakes as he gives his best effort to muffle his scream by biting his lower lip hard enough to the point it almost draws blood. He covers his face with both hands, sobbing furiously to his palms and even if he tries his best to be quiet, Haechan is still making noise.

And Mark wonders whether it’s because of that very reason of survival or it’s just really something he’s been wanting to do every time Haechan beams at him with that blazing smile of his, but he finds himself reaching forward, tangling his fingers around the strands of Haechan’s hair and pulls the other boy forward until their lips meet in a frantic kiss.

Haechan’s eyes grow wide for a good couple of seconds and Mark finally comes back to his senses when he notices the way the other boy stiffens in his arms. Haechan has momentarily stopped crying due to the sudden surprise, though the tremor of his previous sobs is still there and he’s looking at Mark with these huge, mesmerizing round eyes, with nothing but confusion and shock on his face, and Mark begins to ask himself what the fuck did I just do.

“Fuck, I—” Mark has never struggled this hard to find the right word in his entire life. “I didn’t know why—”

But he probably doesn’t need to say anything, because Haechan is taking the rest of his sentence into his own mouth, and tasting Mark’s feelings directly with his tongue. He’s being forceful, pulling Mark close with all his strength until the other man stumbles upon him and they’re pressed together chest-to-chest. Haechan has his hands circling around the collar of Mark’s shirt, smashing their lips together and they kiss hard and fast, tasting each other’s—owning each other’s—mouth until Mark is breathing his breath and Haechan is breathing his.

“More,” Haechan gasps, teeth nibbling against Mark’s bottom lip. “More, Mark, please.” And Mark just crumbles, moaning against his mouth and takes every soft whine that comes from Haechan into his memory.

None of them care at this point if they’re being too loud, so it’s really their luck that the sun has risen outside, its light seeping through the window, basking them with warmth but none of them need it. Not with the way Mark is hovering above him, his hands slipping under Haechan’s sweater, running his fingertips along the golden skin and emitting more moans from the other man.

“Haechannie.” Mark has his earlobe between his teeth and he sucks at the soft skin, before peppering kisses down the column of his neck. Haechan arches his back, grinding their hips together and begs him to, “Take my fucking clothes off, Mark.”

Clothes are scattered on the floor within an instant, and as Mark sits on his lap just for a few seconds as he pulls his own shirt over his head, Haechan is already latching his mouth on his stomach, licking a stripe up his chest before he pulls Mark down on top of him again.

“I want to feel you,” Haechan breathes out between gasps, “I want to feel all of you.”

“Calm down,” Mark says, softly smiling against his forehead “I’m not going anywhere.”

And they stop just to take a thorough glance at each other’s face now that the light is bright enough for them to see properly. Haechan traces his fingers on the side of Mark’s face, as if he’s a sculpture waiting to be adored, and it takes all the control of his body not to kiss him again right then.

“I’m really glad I met you,” he whispers as he brings his lips to Mark’s, pausing momentarily, just to add, “You little shit.”

And Mark laughs into his mouth but only for a moment before passion starts to take control of him again and he’s moaning, “Haechannie, Haechannie,” directly to his ear as they rock their hips together.

***

It’s already midday when Mark opens his eyes, sitting on his bed with a blank stare as if his soul just left his body. He thinks he just had the most pleasant dream he’s ever witnessed in his twenty-one years of living, but when he notices how his pillow smells like honey, realization hits him like a wave.

It’s not a dream. Haechan was really here.

So he jumps down his bed, trips over his own clothes and swears under his breath as he tries to dress as fast as he can. He stumbles out of his room, running toward the kitchen where he finds Haechan sitting on the kitchen’s counter with his legs dangling in the air.

Haechan’s eyes slightly grow wide at the sight of Mark standing gawkily in front of him with his terrible bed hair, but he quickly gains control of himself. “Morning,” he casually says, raising the red colored mug he always uses, “Coffee?”

Mark curls his fingers around the fabric of his sweat pants. “Okay.”

It’s awkward. It feels so, terribly awkward that they begin to tense every time one of them breathe a little too hard, or sip their coffee a little too loud. Mark is sitting on the opposite of Haechan on the dining table, like how they usually do, but it feels like the earth is about to swallow him whole.

“Haechannie!” Mark begins, a little bit too loud that they both flinch at the sound of his voice. “About last night—I-I mean, this morning—when we—”

“Do you regret it?” Haechan’s voice, unlike Mark, is much steadier, almost too formal, even. But after spending months with him, Mark can tell that he’s about as nervous as he is.

“Reg—no, of course not!” Mark has his eyebrows furrowed together. “Do you?”

Haechan looks away, taking a sip of his coffee as he murmurs quietly. “No.”

And silence comes in again like an old friend and Mark despises it so much because it’s making him insane. “Then why won’t you look at me?”

Haechan sighs, scratching the back of his head and Mark finally notices that oh, he’s just embarrassed about it.

“I don’t really know how to face you,” he admits, blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears. “I didn’t think we’d end up that way.”

Mark opens his mouth but unsure of his words. “Then…” he whispers, uncertainly, with throat feels like blazing in flames. “Do you want to pretend it never happened?”

Haechan seems taken aback. Shocked, even, to hear Mark proposing something like that. Scowling a bit, he places his mug on the table with a loud thud and walks closer.

“Haechan—”

His kiss is more teeth than anything else and Mark freezes, not knowing what to do as Haechan climbs into his lap, twisting his hair around his fingers. It’s suffocating, the way Haechan kisses, but Mark likes it so much that he doesn’t mind if Haechan takes all his breath away with his.

After a good minute has passed, with a string of saliva connecting their parting lips, Haechan asks between heavy breaths, “Do you want to pretend this never happened?”

“Fuck no,” Mark replies in an instant and this time, he’s the one who takes Haechan’s breath out of his lungs.

They sleep on the same bed every night but only embrace each other during the day because Mark is getting exceptionally good at it and Haechan is having trouble keeping his moans to himself. They still share kisses in the dark but Mark always places his palm over Haechan’s face and pushes him away whenever it gets too much.

They haven’t moved out of the house even after the season has changed and Mark is getting an eerie feeling of being followed. “They’re triggered by movements and sound,” Haechan comforts him as he sits crossed-legs on the couch with a game controller in his hand, “So as long as we’re dead quiet during the night and stay out of sight, we’ll be fine.”

“You’re right,” Mark agrees, though his heart still feels heavy in his chest. “I don’t know, I just… I can’t help but worry, that’s all.”

“Yes, because that’s you. All you do is worry.”

“I have been doing something else in the last few days, actually,” Mark says, suddenly leaning forward from behind the couch and whispering close to his ear, “Or rather, someone.”

“Fuck you,” Haechan says but his lips are turning into a cheeky grin. “Keep doing that, and I’ll attack you again.”

And Mark teases again because they both know that’s what they want. It’s funny how the world is ending and yet Mark feels like he’s complete. As if everything just fell into places. And seeing Haechan writhe underneath him, as he thrusts in and out, is something he could never even dream to have in his previous life.

Haechan is quite possessive, Mark learns, by the way he nips at the juncture of his neck until purplish bruises bloom along his skin. Mark knows how much Haechan likes to sink his teeth on his shoulder when Mark hits that spot deep inside him, and he loves it when he can make Mark groan at the pain, muttering, “Fuck, that’s so hot—you’re so hot—” before he takes Mark’s bottom lip between his teeth again. It’s as if he wants to make it known to the world that he belongs to him, even when they’re the only two people in the world.

“Donghyuck,” Haechan suddenly says, out of the blue as they share French toasts for breakfast.

“It’s Mark, actually.”

“No,” Haechan laughs, almost spilling his coffee. “My name, you idiot. Lee Donghyuck is my real name.”

“What?!” Mark complains, feeling utterly betrayed. “After all this time, you’re just telling me now?”

“Well, I like the way you say Haechan,” he explains. “So I don’t mind if you call me that. I just thought you should know.”

But Mark is still kind of upset about it and he still does for the rest of the day, until Haechan sits on his lap that afternoon, attempting to wash the pout off his face with something exciting and Mark leaves no time to waste. He calls Haechan’s name—his real name—whenever their hips meet together and Haechan blushes and begs him to stop, telling him it’s weird, but Mark still continues because somehow he can feel Haechan tightening around him when he does and Mark likes to see him crumble into a moaning mess that he is now.

***

“You’re shit at cooking, Mark,” Haechan grumbles with his eyes still bleary from sleep. He stabs his fork not too gracefully to something that Mark called as a decent-looking sunny side up. “Look at this.” He glares at the burnt white egg. “I mean, seriously, what the heck is this?”

“It’s food. Now shut up and eat your breakfast.”

“Okay, Mom.” Haechan rolls his eyes, grimacing dramatically at the man who sits opposite him when the piece of food enters his mouth. “Yuuuuuummmm.”

“Shut up,” Mark shouts but he can’t stop himself from laughing. Haechan is so annoyingly hilarious and he whines about Mark’s cooking every single day but never even tries to offer any help or take charge of the cooking duty for him.   Mark never gets upset about it, though, because Haechan looks cute when he pouts and if it takes one plate of his bad cooking to see that adorable pout on his face then Mark will serve his decent-looking sunny side up every day.

They eventually stop conversing to be able to chew on their foods properly and Haechan has his eyes busy scanning the PlayBoy magazine he stole from the supermarket the other day. Mark has his gaze on his plate  as he plays with his egg’s yolk using his fork, but his mind is somewhere else.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I love you.”

Haechan’s fork flies out of his hand and ends with a clatter on the floor. Mark’s terrible fried egg is still half-chewed on his now half-opened mouth and it’s not an attractive sight in the slightest but Mark looks at him as if he’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

“I—Y-you—” Haechan, the sharp tongue Haechan, never stutters in his twenty years of living and Mark is somehow proud of himself for being able to drive him to this point. “What the hell are you talking about—why—”

“Because I do.” Mark’s tone is so serious that it feels like he’s reading the news or reading the result of the latest presidential election. “I have been for quite some time. I just wasn’t sure you felt the same so I kind of keep quiet about it.”

And Haechan can only stare, and stare, and stare until he realizes that it’s better to just stay silent and do what his body tells him to do.

Mark is forced to stand on his feet before a pair of plump lips attack his own in a mind-numbing kiss. It’s a bit messy and Haechan tastes like the breakfast he just ate but Mark sighs against his mouth and lets him pull his shirt over his head.

Mark pushes his plate away from the table so Haechan can sit on the edge and tangle his legs around his waist and when it slips down to the floor, porcelain breaking into smaller pieces, he pays no mind because Haechan is now laying down on the dining table with his shirt going up to his chest. He pulls Mark down by the neck, and forcing him to grind his hips against him.

“You’re unbelievable,” Haechan gasps into his mouth, running his teeth along Mark’s lower lip. “Couldn’t you have picked a better moment to say that?”

“Sorry.” Mark’s lips part in a silent moan when Haechan slips a hand underneath his sweat pants and teases him over his underwear. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I woke up and it started driving me insane so I just had to say it.”

“Fuck, Mark, you’re so unfair.” Haechan takes a hold of Mark’s hand, leading him to where he wants to be touched and softly whines when Mark indulges him. “Tell me more,” he gasps, clawing against Mark’s skin as they rub their lengths together. “I want to, ah fuck, hear more, Mark, please.”

And Mark doesn’t hesitate one bit when he praises him, complimenting every little part, every little detail. I love you. I love your honey-like scent. I love your smile, and this mole you have on your neck. I love the way you say my name.

Haechan is powerless under Mark’s words, begging and writhing for Mark to pound into him until he sees stars and Mark is more than eager to comply. I love the way you moan. I love the way you arch your back. I love you, I love seeing you like this. You’re so pretty, Haechannie. So fucking beautiful.

And Haechan comes hard on his stomach with his teeth sinking at the crook of Mark’s neck, muffling his moan and he pushes Mark back to his chair, crawling between his legs and taking Mark deep into his mouth.

“Fuck.” He takes a handful of Haechan’s ash grey hair, slightly thrusting into his warm mouth and whimpers at how sexy Haechan looks on his knees, cheeks hollowing as he sucks him hard and fast. He has surprisingly long eyelashes, Mark admires, with small tears trapped between them from how hard Mark is hitting the back of his throat.

Mark’s about to come undone, low groans appearing at the back of his throat when Haechan suddenly stops and takes him out entirely, only giving kitten licks at the tip. Mark mewls with his eyebrows knitted together, begging Haechan to stop being a fucking tease and Haechan just grins against his skin because that’s simply what he is—a tease—and Mark is conflicted between loving and hating that trait of him at the same time.

Haechan eventually stops torturing him and sucks deep and slow the way he knows Mark would like it until Mark is spouting nonsense from his mouth, pushes himself forward abruptly and comes into his mouth. Haechan exhales heavily as he waits for Mark to finish, enjoying the low grunt he’s emitting before he swallows everything down. A little bit of his essence drips down his chin and Mark immediately apologizes with a stutter, pulling Haechan carefully into his lap and wipes his mouth with gentle strokes of his fingers. “You all right?”

Haechan looks up at him from under his bangs, his eyes half-lidded with lust as he takes two of Mark’s tainted fingers and places them between his lips, licking every bit of him with his tongue. Mark is looking at him with unblinking eyes and jaw hanging slack on his face.

Haechan leans close to embrace him, wrapping his arms around his neck and he sighs, kissing one of Mark’s shoulders. “I love you too,” he whispers and even though Mark can’t see, he dares to bet on his life that Haechan is now blushing mad at his own words. “But don’t get too cocky about it, you little shit.”

Mark chuckles because this is so Haechan. He pulls back so he can look at him in the eyes and Haechan is indeed blushing—even to the tip of his ears. “I won’t,” Mark says, letting his lips linger on his forehead. “I won’t, so stay with me, Haechannie. As long as we’re alive, don’t ever leave me.”

Haechan smiles. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

***

“Okay, ready?” Haechan asks, a knife sits firm on his hand. “On three. One, two, three!”

Mark kicks the front door open, inviting himself to a new house he’s not familiar with. They both run out of food so it’s about time to search around again. It’s the only house in the closest neighbourhood that they haven’t ransacked yet, and it’s because the windows are covered with cardboard, and the sunlight cannot penetrate in. And the number one rule of living in this world is that you have to be in places where the sunlight can reach.

It’s dark inside the house—so, so dark, in fact, that Mark has to place a flashlight in one hand and his gun in the other. “See anything weird?” He asks, as he observes as much as he could himself.

“Nope, they would come out by that ruckus we just made if they were here so I think we’re safe.” Haechan points his finger toward the kitchen. “Jackpot.”

“Stay close to me,” Mark reminds him and they both walk side by side with their weapons still aimed. There’s a window above the kitchen counter that Mark immediately tries to punch and kick through but to no avail. It won’t budge.

Turning to Haechan, who’s in charge of bringing weapons, “Do you have something to use to break that open? We need sunlight.”

“Okay, wait, I’ll—”

It’s faster for Mark’s eyes to process what is happening compared to his ears and what he sees is Haechan being tackled to the ground by a woman with cloudy white eyes and rotten flesh. And before Mark can even shout his name, he can feel his own body slammed against the wall, and a pair of large hands trying to rip his stomach open.

There are two of them and they’re both stronger than he could ever be.

Mark can hear Haechan shouting his name, but whether it’s because he’s trying to save him or screaming for help, he’s not sure and he doesn’t have time to think so. Mark lands a kick to the living corpse’s chest and it stumbles a little but enough for Mark to aim for his chest. He takes a shot, the sound of his gun thundering in the air, and pulls his trigger again to lands a bullet on its head. Mark quickly aims his gun at the female corpse next, missing his target by a few inches but enough to distract her enough so Haechan can slice her throat open with his knife.

“Haechan!” Mark immediately runs over to his place, pulling him up by the waist and drags both of their bodies  until they’re outside the house, where the sun is blazing over their heads. Both of them are lying down on the empty street, breathing hard and feeling adrenaline slowly rushes out of their veins.

“Fuck, we almost died,” Mark says, turning over to see the younger man who’s wincing from the pain. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Haechan hisses, “But I think my hand is—” The rest of his words hang in the air. “Mark.”

Mark follows his gaze and shudders at what he sees. There’s a bite mark just a few inches away from his wrist, and it’s deep enough to draw blood and nearly rips his skin apart. And if Haechan’s story was true, then—

“Stay away from me!” Haechan nearly trips over his own feet from how fast he tries to get away from him. He’s standing on his feet with his arms reaching out to keep their distance apart. “Don’t you dare get close to me, Mark.”

“What—” Mark jumps to his feet as well, stepping forward and Haechan points a knife to his face. “Haechan, calm down.” He raises both arms in the air, trying his best to stay sane for both of their sakes. “Let’s think this through.”

“No.” He furiously shakes his head. “You need to stay away from me—”

“Haechan, we’re immune—calm down—”

“Not if we’re bitten, Mark! Fuck, didn’t you hear what I said back then—”

“Yes, but we’re not sure whether you’re going to. Maybe it’s different for everyone—”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not taking any chances,” Haechan hastily insists. “Go back to the house, Mark.”

“No.”

“Just go back to the fucking house!”

“And where are you going then?!” He’s shouting back at him at this point, his voice sounds thick with desperation. “Huh?! Just where are you going to go?”

Haechan grits his teeth, desperately looking for an answer himself. “It’s none of your business—”

“No fucking way, I’m coming with you.”

“Why aren’t you listening to me—”

“Because you’re not making any sense, why would I listen to you?! Just get back here, Donghyuck, and we’ll think about it when we get home!”

It’s tempting, especially after he hears his real name coming from Mark’s mouth but it’s not right. Haechan knows it’s not right. “I don’t want to hurt you, Mark.”

“Nobody is going to get hurt, so please…” Mark lowers his voice, taking a careful step toward him. “Please, Donghyuck. Come back to me. I don’t want to be alone, not again.”

Haechan has tears forming in his eyes as he brings his head up to face the clouds, and he stands still when Mark wraps his arms gently around him, pulling him close. “I’m scared, Mark,” he whispers, emitting soft sobs from his mouth and Mark nods, saying the same thing and they both just stand there in each other’s arms with Mark running his fingers up and down his spine to soothe him down.

“Let’s go home,” Mark says, cupping Haechan’s cheeks  with his palms and forces him to meet his eyes. “Okay?”

Haechan nods, sobbing quietly. “Okay.”

***

Two days have passed and Mark doesn’t know what the fuck he’s going to do.

Haechan is dying, and he dies little by little with every second passing by. It’s so apparent and fast, the transformation process, that when Mark fell asleep on Haechan’s shoulder just for a few minutes, he woke up with a jolt, noticing how paler Haechan has gotten and how rotten the smell that came from his skin.

His golden skin is now blotchy, black veins appearing underneath it and he looks ghastly.

“Mark…”

Mark can no longer recognize his voice. It’s more like a croak, as if his vocal cords are thinning into a small string that’s about to snap. Every time Mark holds his hand, and winces at how freezing cold it is, Haechan tries to pull it away with the little strength he has left and whispers for him to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you,” Mark always whispers back, and they both know it’s a promise. Haechan just wishes Mark would break it, because keeping it will only mean death for both of them.

The house that used to be so lively during the day and silent during the night, feels like a tombstone for every second that passes by. Mark hasn’t gone out of the house for a while, and he’s only eating one meal per day and drinks as little as he can to save every little food they have left. He forces Haechan to eat as much as he can, though, but the latter usually denies, telling him that he’s about to vomit when he has food on his tongue.

Mark carries him to his bed every night like usual but he no longer wraps his arms around him, otherwise he’d be shivering to death. Haechan’s skin is ice cold, and although he’s breathing very, very slowly, the puffs of air that flows out from his mouth do not feel warm in the slightest.

“Mark…” Haechan whispers into the night and Mark can’t contain the sadness that blooms in his heart when he hears how broken his voice is. “There are so many things… I wish I could say to you…”

“Mean things, I suppose?” Mark tries to keep it normal but the air still feels tense. “Donghyuck?”

Haechan’s chocolate brown eyes are gradually turning into silver and in the darkness of the room, they almost glow. “Thank you… for staying with me…” he murmurs and Mark can tell that Haechan is on the verge of crying, but he doesn’t. He’s no longer able to.

“It’s an honor, Haechannie.”

***

Mark hasn’t slept properly for three days and it’s taking its toll on him. He’s either staring at the ceiling, trying his best to count Haechan’s breathing and making sure that it doesn’t stop or waking up every few minutes with cold sweat, thinking that Haechan is leaving him for good.

So at one point, his body can no longer take it and he falls asleep with his head on Haechan’s shoulder. They’re sitting on the floor with their backs pressed against the wall, facing the front door. Mark has his handgun ready on his side, along with some of Haechan’s knife, but they haven’t been touched for a while. And Mark is not planning to touch it in the near future.

He wakes up with a heart attack when the front door is opened with a bang, and with bleary eyes, Mark sees several figures entering the house at once. He reaches for his handgun by instinct and aims it toward the crowd, but—

“Wait!” A man’s voice booms through the air. “Don’t shoot!”

It finally sinks in that it’s daylight and Mark is seeing people—actual breathing people who look just as weary as he is though not sleep-deprived—coming into his house. They have weapons in their hands, from crossbows to shotguns, but a man, who looks like he’s in charge, steps forward with both arms raised and sends him a reassuring smile.

“Calm down,” he says, “I’m human, just like you.”

Mark, who stands in front of Haechan by instinct to protect him, can’t believe what he’s seeing and he’s calculating whether it’s really just a dream but another man, a taller one with sharp jaws, points his gun at Haechan and Mark snaps back to reality.

“Taeyong-hyung,” the man says, “That one is turning. We should kill him.”

“NO!” Mark has his gun raised again, ready to pull the trigger. “Put your gun down or I’ll shoot, I swear to God, if you touch him—”

“Jeno,” the leader—the one who’s called Taeyong—waves a hand, suggesting him to drop his weapon down. “It’s okay. Let’s talk about this first.”

Mark drifts his eyes from one man to another, carefully reading their faces. “Who are you?”

“A survivor,” Taeyong smiles and it seems genuine but Mark doesn’t trust him in the slightest. “Like you.”

His heart is beating like crazy and he’s so amazed that there are, in fact, others like him who appear to be in much better condition too. “How many are you there?”

“Hundreds. We’re looking for more people to join our colony. We believe there are more survivors out there, and we can fight back if we grow in numbers.”

“Fight how? There’s no cure.”

“We’re immune as long as we’re not bitten.” Taeyong spares a glance at Haechan and Mark almost growls at him. “We’re harvesting our own foods, as well. You should come with us.”

“Can he come?” Mark nudges his head toward Haechan.

Taeyong has the audacity to look sympathetic, unlike his friend Jeno, who is still glowering at Haechan as if he’s a prey to be eaten when it’s supposed to be the other way around. “I wish I could say yes,” Taeyong says, “But I don’t think he can.”

“Then I’m staying.”

Taeyong sighs, but he keeps a gentle smile plastered on his face. “Can I, at least, know your name?”

Mark hesitates and he knows he’s being too cautious about everything, probably because Haechan is being targeted. Under different circumstances, he would’ve taken Taeyong’s hand in a heartbeat. “It’s Mark.”

“It’s nice to see you alive, Mark,” Taeyong says, offering his hand and Mark deliberately takes it for a handshake. “Is that your friend over there?”

Mark turns around, glancing at the man and he sees Haechan staring at him with soft eyes, his breathing slow and maybe he tries to smile but all he does is breaking Mark’s heart. “He’s—” Mark’s breath gets hitched on his throat. “He’s my family.”

Haechan closes his eyes, lips turning slightly upward.

“I’m sorry.” Taeyong places a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I really wish I could help, but there’s nothing we can do. There’s nothing you can do. It’s already too late.”

Mark knows that, he’s been telling himself that, but having it told directly to his face still hurts like it’s the first time he’s hearing it. “I know that.”

“I think he wants you to come with us too.” Taeyong walks closer to Haechan but still maintaining safe distance so Mark won’t aim his gun toward him again. He kneels in front of him, gently asking, “Isn’t that right?”

Haechan’s eyes are moving slow, searching Taeyong’s face and maybe his vision has already become blurry from the way his lenses are turning silver, but his gaze is firm when he nods.

“Please,” Haechan says, softly, quietly, and heartbreakingly, “Take him with you…”

Mark can hear his own heart shattering. “Haechan—”

“You sure?” Taeyong confirms and Haechan gives the slightest nod of his head. Mark’s not sure whether it’s because he’s too weak to move or he just doesn’t want Mark to go. Mark wishes for the latter, but Taeyong is waving one hand and the next thing he knows, he is being dragged across the room.

“No! Wait—don’t touch me—” Mark struggles, kicking all over the place as he is being held down by two guys who are way more muscular than he is. “Don’t you fucking touch me—”

“Mark.”

Mark freezes, his stomach flips at the sound of Haechan’s voice. It’s louder this time—loud enough for everyone to hear and for Mark to have his heart crushed to  pieces. “Just go.”

“It’s better to live than to die, Mark, even in a world like this.” Taeyong says, wrapping a hand around Mark’s wrist and this time, Mark follows. It’s as if all the strength of his body is leaving him and he’s not able to stand on his own feet if Taeyong doesn’t pull him up.

And as he walks away, Mark keeps his eyes on Haechan, still asking him why are you doing this? But Haechan only smiles and mouths something that makes his eyes widen. He’s saying the words—the promise—they usually share with one another, but this time, Haechan doesn’t have the power to make it come true. But he still says them, because that’s his final wishes before everything turns dark.

See you soon, Mark.

***

Mark’s first day in the colony feels like the world is ending, which is saying something because the world is ending but he just really feels like it is the second Haechan is out of his grasp.

Taeyong has offered him more variety of food than he has seen for the past two months and he still stares at his plate like it’s empty and he doesn’t know what to do with it. The place is safe, guarded with tall gates and watchmen, and there’s a campfire near the tent he’s staying. Mark knows how Haechan would’ve loved that. He would probably be dancing around it, telling Mark to play another Michael Jackson song with his guitar—Billy Jean, maybe—as he busts a move. And Mark would most likely have a hard time pressing the chords because when Mark dances more with his hands, Haechan dances more with his hips and he’s so naturally good at it that it makes Mark suffer from his longing to touch him. To wrap his arms around his waist, to mold his lips against his full ones, to peel every piece of clothing off his body so he can rake his fingers along the smoothness of his spine.

There are so many survivors around him, and people like Jungwoo and Lucas do smile brighter than the sun but Mark just wants to lurk in the dark. He already has his sun once, and that sun is dying.

“Mark,” Taeyong calls, sitting next to him in front of the campfire that dances in Mark’s eyes. “How are you holding up?”

Mark doesn’t answer, and it’s probably unfair because Taeyong has been nothing but good to him but he no longer cares.

“Look,” Taeyong exhales, placing a hand on Mark’s back. “I know how you feel but—”

“Don’t fucking tell me that,” Mark snaps, slapping his hand away. “Don’t tell me you know how I feel. You don’t.”

And Taeyong gives him a minute to catch his breath because it’s true. He’s breathless. He’s been feeling like he’s suffocating from the first time he took a step out of his house and into Taeyong’s van. But no matter how many hours have passed, he still couldn’t breathe.

“We need every survivor we can get,” Taeyong softly explains. “We can survive longer if we cooperate. Protect each other. And I really think it’s the best choice for both of us, but if you feel like this is not for you, then I won’t hold you back. That’s your decision to make.”

Mark looks up at the sky, which is painted in orange as the sun’s about to set. “I’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Sorry for being such an asshole and taking all of this out on you.”

“Most people act the same when they first got here, so I kind of get used to it by now.” Taeyong chuckles. “We all have our stories, Mark, but whether we end it and start over with another page or dwell with the ending too long is our choice. And as you can see here, we’ve all made our choices. We chose to flip a new page.”

Mark takes a look at his surroundings, really observing every detail and he knows that the happiness around him is real. These people appreciate life more than they did and they find comfort in each other. Even if the world is ending, it feels just like another day of a new world for them. Another day to start over. Another day to appreciate joy if you give it a chance and look close enough.

“Have you lost someone close to you?” Mark asks, almost in a whisper and Taeyong spares him a glance.

“More than I can count,” he answers and if Mark listens very closely, he would notice the shiver in his voice. “I had someone before. Someone that I really loved. Almost like what you two had.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Taeyong exhales into the evening sky. “Like everybody else, I suppose. He died.”

“From what?”

“From a bullet to the head.” Taeyong breathes heavily. “My bullet.”

The silence hangs in the air and it just dawns on him that of course Taeyong has lost someone to the virus. Of course he knows how Mark feels. He’s been through a lot more than Mark ever did.

Taeyong told him that his name was Jaehyun but he always told them to call him Jay because it felt cooler that way. Mark witnesses how a longing smile appears on Taeyong’s face every time his mouth forms Jaehyun’s name but it doesn’t stay long. “He was bitten when he tried to save me,” Taeyong mentions, fiddling with his own fingers. “I thought he would heal, but—”

“He didn’t.”

Taeyong glances at him, at how Mark is fighting back the tears that form in his eyes and he exhales, puffs of air flowing from his thin lips. “He didn’t,” Taeyong finishes.

“I’m sorry,” is all Mark has to say after a while and that’s enough, it seems, by the gentle smile on Taeyong’s face. The older man lands a hand on Mark’s dark locks, patting his head like a father to his son, before he stands up and stretches his arms above his head.

“Talking from experience,” Taeyong says, walking away. “He still has at least a day.”

Mark knows he’s talking about Haechan, just like how he’s been thinking about him himself even during Taeyong’s story, and he notices something slips out of the pocket of his jeans. “Taeyong-hyung, you dropped something.”

“No, I didn’t.” He throws a mischievous smile over the shoulder. “Good night, Mark.”

It’s a key. Taeyong’s car key, Mark remembers, as it had jiggled around his hand when he took him in before. And Mark knows that it’s all up to him now, whether he stays or he leaves. Whether he chooses to stay with the living or vanish with the dead. Whether he chooses a few splitting moments with Haechan, or live properly for years with Taeyong.

And the answer is clear.

It’s only been a day. A whole fucking day. But Mark steals Taeyong’s car as expected and rides out the first thing in the morning as if his life depends on it. And maybe it does, because Haechan is his life and he’s losing his light like a dying star.

And if Haechan turns into a black hole, Mark doesn’t mind being sucked out of his life to join him in an eternity of darkness. There’s no light without his sun anyway.

It takes four hours for Mark to drive back to the house he’s grown to love, and he’s already driving as fast as Haechan usually was. The sun shines rather warm on his skin, but he still shivers from the autumn breeze. His heart is thumping so loud in his own ears that everything else feels like a whisper.

“Haechan-ah!” Mark shouts the second he barges into the house—the place they both call home. Please still be here. Please be alive. And he runs from one corner to another, looking for the man who owns his heart, and he can feel his feet crumbling under his own weight when he notices the sight of him.

Haechan is standing in front of the stairs that lead to the basement, and there’s a little part of Mark that wonders perhaps he had been staying there to avoid the sun but he ignores it. He doesn’t care. Mark doesn’t give a fuck if his transformation is nearly complete because when Haechan looks at him, his mouth shaping his name, Mark is already running towards him before his entire mind can process.

Haechan lays still in Mark’s arms as he embraces him with all his strength. “I’m so glad you’re still here,” Mark says, slipping his fingers around Haechan’s ash grey strands that are browner than the first time he met him.

Haechan can hear Mark whispering his name over and over and he notices he’s crying, clutching to him as if he’s the rope that’s saving his life. “Mark…” Haechan buries his face in the crook of Mark’s neck which feels both familiar and distinct at the same time because Mark can no longer smell that honey-like scent Haechan usually has, he can no longer feel his warmth seeping through his clothes, he can no longer hear the playful whiny complains he usually makes.

But he’s still Haechan and that’s what matters.

“Why… did you come back…?”

“I couldn’t do it,” Mark answers, shaking his head frantically. “I couldn’t, Haechannie, I can’t leave you. I don’t care if all we have left is just minutes or even seconds, I just want to be with you.”

Haechan grabs the back of Mark’s shirt, making a sound between a sob and a choke and he probably wants to cry, but he can’t. His skin is rotting, his bodily function has stopped working, and he knows he looks unbearably disgusting but the way Mark holds on to him still makes him feel wanted. Makes him feel loved.

“Mark,” Haechan croaks, pulling away and Mark nearly breaks into tears again when he notices how much paler Haechan gets, even if they’re only separated for a day. The black veins are more prominent, painting his face and his skin like a horrifying tattoo and the lens of his eyes are completely white now,. “Mark, you have to kill me.”

“What—no—”

Haechan pushes the machete he’s been holding in one hand to Mark’s chest. “I’ve tried but I’m…” His cloudy eyes seem to scream in agony. “I’m too afraid… Please, Mark…”

“No, there’s no way—”

“Mark!” Haechan’s paper-thin voice suddenly booms through the air, sending shivers down Mark’s spine. “I can feel it. I’m losing myself and…” There’s this glow in his eyes that forces Mark to take a step back, his heart slamming against his ribcage. “I’m so hungry.”

And it’s not human food he craves, Mark knows that for sure.

It’s frightening, the way Haechan slightly bares his teeth at him, and every inch of his body screams for him to run but Mark plays deaf. “I’ll wait until it’s really over,” Mark promises him. “I’ll wait until you’re really gone. I’ll kill you when there’s no trace of you left.”

But Mark’s not sure whether he can keep his promise even at that point.

Haechan eventually agrees with a tired nod because they both know Mark is much more stubborn than he looks, and he begs him to tie him up so he wouldn’t be able to attack the second he loses control and Mark follows. Haechan sits on the floor with his back pressed against a huge pillar that supports the house and waits as Mark circles a rope around his waist a few times before he ends it with a knot.

“Is it too tight?” Mark asks, worriedly, and it’s so Mark to ask a half-transformed zombie that question so Haechan smiles weakly at him and answers, “Not tight enough, you idiot.”

Mark falls weak at the sight of Haechan’s smile that he loves so much and he leans in to kiss him but Haechan immediately brings his face away.

“Don’t,” Haechan warns, though he’s about to be consumed by the same desire, “You’ll get infected.”

But Mark cups both of his cheeks firmly with his hands, whispering, “I don’t care,” directly against his mouth, not caring about his icy cold skin, or the awful smell of his rotting flesh because underneath all of that, he’s still Haechan and he loves him. So painfully and earnestly so.

“I love you,” Mark whispers between kisses, “I love you. I’ve always been in love with you. Haechannie…”

And Haechan closes his eyes, he can no longer breathe in Mark’s scent like he used to a few days ago and it’s depressing, because Mark always smells like summer and Haechan loves summer. But within a few hours from now, there will only be the darkness that welcomes him like an old friend. And if he’s lucky, if Mark really has the heart to kill him, then he’ll be swallowed by that darkness and it’s okay, as long as he doesn’t bring Mark with him.

Because Mark deserves the light, even if that means taking his own.

And so they wait. They wait with their bodies seated side-by-side, with their fingers intertwined, with Haechan’s head falling on Mark’s shoulder. “Tell me more,” Haechan begs, his eyes heavy and the pain in the pit of his stomach—this craving of blood and human flesh—is maddening, growing and consuming him from the inside. “Tell me why you love me…”

And Mark does it with no hesitation because what he feels never changes. He still loves Haechan’s hair, loves his eyes, loves his voice, loves his touch, no matter how different they are now.

“And I love how you always say I’m a bad cook,” Mark chuckles softly, “but you always eat like it’s your last meal.”

“Because it… could’ve been…,” Haechan’s voice is weak and sore but there’s a tint of humor in his tone. “Your cooking was so bad… it could’ve killed me…”

And Mark laughs, airily and young, the way he always does and Haechan wants to cry because he most likely won’t be able to hear it soon.

“I love how we fight from time to time, with you pouting every time I win an argument,” Mark continues as he gently smiles to himself, “I love how brave you are, how you tend to not overthink stuff and just go with the moment. I wish I could live like you.”

Mark’s voice begins to break the more he speaks, hot tears forming in his eyes. “And I really,” he breathes out between soft sobs, “I really love hearing you sing. You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard and I wish I could…” His entire shoulders begin to shake. “I wish I could hear you sing again, Haechannie…”

Haechan’s breathing becomes slower as his vision starts to fade away. Mark sounds like he’s talking from a distance, as if he’s murmuring underwater. And Haechan feels like he’s falling into a bottomless pit, a monster waiting underneath and suddenly he’s just…

Gone.

“Hae… chan…?”

Mark’s eyes grow wide as he feels Haechan’s teeth sinking into the skin of his neck, gnawing against his flesh before he peels it away with his fangs. Mark’s entire body jolts in pain, sending electricity down to his fingertips. He crawls away from Haechan by instinct, his blood splattering down his shirt and to the wooden floor below him.

Haechan’s eyes are entirely clouded in white, saliva  mixed with Mark’s blood dripping from his mouth and he snarls, baring his teeth like a hungry wolf.

Mark tries to call his name but it’s no use. Haechan is something else. Something entirely different. And although the transformation process progresses little by little, once it’s complete, it still takes the air out of Mark’s lungs.

Haechan is struggling to break himself free, his fingers clawing the air, reaching for Mark with such desperation of a starving lion. Mark’s gun feels heavy on the back of his jeans, he knows what to do. He just doesn’t have the will to do it.

“Haechannie—it’s me—please, it’s Mark—”

Haechan roars, dark blood splattering from his mouth as he claws and claws with his legs kicking all over the place. The rope around his waist is the only thing holding him still, keeping them in a safe distance but Mark knows it won’t hold long.

Haechan is frighteningly strong.

Mark’s blood is gushing out of his wound, painting his  arm red and warm and it’s starting to make him feel lightheaded. At this point, he realizes he’s going to die by Haechan’s hands or going to turn into the exact creature snarling in front of him now.

Mark hooks his finger around the trigger, aiming the gun at Haechan’s head and he feels like he’s on the verge of vomiting his entire organs.

How can I shoot him—

But he tries. He tries because he has promised the man he loved he would do it. He tries because the world does not deserve seeing Haechan like this. He does not want anyone to look at him and think about him simply as a mindless, flesh-eating zombie when Haechan was so, so much more than that. Haechan was sweet, he was kind though he did have his own mischievousness from time to time and he shone so bright, almost blinding every time Mark looked at him.

So he takes aim and he misses because his hand trembles at the last second. The bullet that sinks to the pillar behind him only makes the creature growls at him louder, and the rope begins to tear apart.

Mark still can’t shake the memory of Haechan’s face when he told him he loved him too, or simply the memory of him—of how he used to. But the monster that he is now is not him. Mark just has to convince himself that.

He’s running out of time.

He takes a closer step, close enough that he won’t be able to miss, and he takes in a deep breath, aiming at Haechan’s temple. He steadies his hand as best as he can before he closes his eyes, feeling hot tears running down his cheek and he whispers, “See you soon, Haechannie.” And he pulls the trigger.

The room quiets down in an instant where Mark can only hear his own frantic breathing, but he doesn’t stay still for long. Not looking at Haechan’s body, he quickly loads his gun with another bullet—his last one—and presses the tip against the side of his head. It feels hot, almost scalding his skin but he doesn’t let himself think. He doesn’t let himself breathe. He doesn’t let himself feel.

And with the click of his gun, he finally smiles.

We’re together now, Haechannie.

***

#nct #nct haechan #nct mark #lee donghyuck #mark lee #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #markhyuck #mark/haechan #haechan/mark #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #superm #zombie apocalypse au #smut #mark lee smut #markhyuck smut #mark lee fanfic #haechan fanfic #mark nct #haechan nct #nct fanfics #nct au #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #this is so long y'all #i got too many markhyuck feels writing this #mine

[anothershorthuman]

Stay Alive Pt. 7

pairings: nct dream x platonic!reader, afab!reader (you wear a skirt, but they/them pronouns are used), ??? x reader x ???

genre: zombie apocalypse au, high school au, angst, fluff, humor, not really horror but it's zombies ya'know

word count: 6.25k

series warnings: blood, injuries & fighting, suicide, character death, swearing, again... zombies.

chpt warnings: sexual assault, swearing, grief, dead parents, mentions sex and periods, guns and violence

summary: nobody was ready for a zombie apocalypse. you were definitely not ready for a zombie apocalypse. while contemplating just giving up and accepting your fate, you meet a group of boys. life may seem pointless now, but at the very least, you now have a reason to stay alive.

previous: masterlist: next

…

Your shift with Jaemin ends when the sun rises; he wakes you up first before waking the other boys by banging two pots together. They complain at the idea of getting up while the sun is still rising but comply once Jaemin promises them breakfast before they go back to walking. 

The boy's eagerness to eat is overwhelming for you, so you stand near the doorway to the kitchen, watching all of them stuff their faces with bacon and eggs as if they hadn’t eaten for days. You're watching Chenle and Jisung fight over a piece of bacon, eyebrows scrunching in disgust, when you feel someone nudging you with their elbow. You nod at Jeno in acknowledgement but say nothing as he hands you a plate with breakfast.  

“You should eat.” You nod in what Jeno assumes is appreciation, before he walks away. He watches from afar as you ignore the utensils he left you and eat the scrambled eggs with your hand. His eyes smile when he sees you immediately go for a second bite.

…

The seven of you walked in silence for maybe 20 minutes before Haechan had started complaining about how bored he was. You’re a little surprised when he decides to focus on annoying you rather than any of the boys. He had been trying to hold your hand for a while now, but you were slapping it away. Eventually he gives up on holding your hand but hooks his arm with yours, and is pleased when you don’t shove him away. Despite your weariness, the physical affection isn’t awful, and it reminds you of Jungwoo a little.

“There’s the corner store!” Haechan exclaims before running over, pulling you with him. 

Haechans fast pace doesn’t give you enough time to look at your surroundings and Haechan is too excited with the idea of seeing his family that he doesn’t notice the worried glances between Mark, Jeno, and Renjun.

You want to scold Haechan after you stumble into the store but become speechless after finally getting a good look at the inside of the store. The products of the store were completely scattered, on the floor and on the counter. The glass from the door and the freezers was shattered, with drinks and food scattered on the floor. The cash register was broken, as was the stool that was typically behind it. 

Haechan disconnects from you and begins to wander the store. He calls out for his mom, and then his sister, not being able to control the growing waver in his voice. 

You too are wandering the store when the rest of the boys finally enter the store. Walking past an aisle, you freeze. There’s a puddle of blood coming from behind a door, presumably a break room for the workers. You peak your head over an aisle, checking where the boys are. Haechan is the closest, but Renjun and Chenle are quickly approaching him and you hope they’ll keep him away from the blood, at least until you can figure out who it belongs to. You glance at Jeno and Mark who are standing by the cash register and consider grabbing one of them just in case things go wrong. 

You step around the blood and reach with a shaking hand to grip the door handle. The sounds of the boys around you fade for a second as you gather your courage to open the door. You whip it open with a surprising amount of strength and scramble to catch it before it hits the wall, not wanting to alert the others of what you're doing. Once you are confident the door won't give you away, you take a look around the room. If not for the stream of blood leading to the back of the room, behind another tall shelf, you might have been pleased to see there was more supplies that would be useful for your group, like toilet paper and hand sanitizer. But alas, the sight of that much blood would spook anyone. 

Peering around the corner of the bookshelf, you take a few deep breaths only to gag when you realize that you're standing in a pungent stench. There's a body behind the bookshelf. You cover your nose and mouth with your hand. The body is face down, but it’s a middle aged woman with long black hair. You had been preparing to see a dead body, it was inevitable given the circumstances, but the possibility of your first being someone Haechan might know, might be his mother, makes this moment a lot harder to cope with than you anticipated. You look around the room, looking for something to cover the body with. You use an abandoned sweater before quickly leaving the room. 

All of the boys are gathered around the door, seemingly processing the same shock you felt when you first spotted the blood. You can’t help but to look into Haechans watery eyes, even though he instantly looks away from you.

“There’s a body in there,” you say, “a woman, not sure what happened, not sure I want to find out.”

Nobody replies for a second, knowing that there is a possibility of it being Haechans mother.

“I can check.” Renjun offers.

Haechan shakes his head strongly, “If it’s my mom then it should be me.”

“They’re faced down, so we would need to flip them over first.” 

Jeno steps forward with Haechan and reassures him that he’ll help him with that much. You watch as the two go inside and stand quietly with the rest. The six of you hear Jeno count them down to presumably flip the body over. And then you hear Haechan start to wail. 

Deciding to give him some space, you start to walk toward the entrance of the store, the rest of the boys following. It’s only until you all settle outside that you realize some of the other boys are crying too. Renjun has tears quietly streaming down his face and Jisung is straight up crying. 

Jaemin tells you about how all of the sophomores would meet up at Haechans house to play games together. They would often stay for dinner, his mom made the best kimchi. She was kind, going to Jeno’s games when his parents were busy or gifting Renjun paint or packing an extra lunch for Haechan to give to Jaemin when she found out he would never eat at school.

And then he tells you that Jisung was just an empath, he had never met her.

While you had never met the woman or felt particularly close to your own mother, feeling helpless was not a foreign concept for you and you can’t help but pity Haechan. You sit outside for maybe 20 minutes before Mark is standing up and dusting off his pants. He says you should leave soon and that he was going to go get Haechan and Jeno. The three of them walk out and you all start to walk away without a destination in mind.

…

You didn’t mind walking aimlessly, but due to the literal zombie apocalypse, you think that it probably wouldn’t be wise to wander around for the entire day. Your entire group is clearly not in the right headspace. Anytime you hear a noise that could be other people or a zombie, they get spooked and switch directions. You had yet to run into other people.

You had been walking for an hour before Jisung started whining about wanting to take a break. Jaemin suggests breaking into another house but Renjun disagrees, saying that it feels oddly intimate being in a stranger's house without them in it. Mark offers his house, but quickly backtracks when he realizes that he has no idea how to get there, they are lost. 

This of course causes all of them to focus on what's happening, trying to identify where they are. Chenle is trying to retrace their steps when you speak up, “I, uh, I think I know where we are.”

Their necks snap in your direction and they swarm you. And suddenly they’re bombarding you with questions. Their faces feel too close, you can feel their hot breaths on your skin and the way it makes the hair on your arms stand. 

“I live near here!” You blurt out. Your sudden outburst has them backing away. “It’s a really small place, but we’re tired and there’s food there. We can spend the night there and figure out our next move.”

…

Jisung still has no idea where they are. He lived on the other side of school and even looking at the map on his phone, he didn’t really know how to get anywhere. So, he really was relieved when you said you recognized the area. 

Part of him is confused, this is a pretty run down part of town, even before the apocalypse, he can recall his parents telling him to avoid this area. You lead them down a steep street and he finally seems to notice how eerily quiet everything is. All he can hear is the huffing coming from the boys breathing and their shoes scraping against the concrete.

They enter an apartment complex with flickering lights at its entrance. Jisung finds himself instinctively shuffling closer to Chenle as they go up three flights of stairs. The hallway smells of smoke and the yellowish tint of the walls prove that smokers lived here. He wonders if you smoke. 

You open the door and he peeks over everybody's heads into the apartment. It's a studio, with a lofted bed and the eight of you struggle to fit into the… living room? Kitchen? Whatever you called it. Mark, Renjun, and Chenle squish themselves onto the couch and Jisung finds himself standing awkwardly next to them. 

You scratch your neck uncomfortably, “It’s usually just me in here, so I forget how small it is. Sorry. We can look for someplace else if you guys want.”

Jisung watches Haechan walk in, make a beeline for the ladder that leads him up to your bed before promptly face planting on it. 

Jaemin is the only one still standing near the entrance with you and Jisung can't help but be annoyed by him, leaning over you, a hand placed on the wall next to you. 

“I like your place.” He says, “small, but cozy.”

You snort in amusement. When did you two get so friendly? Jisung thinks to himself.

…

“So, this is where you live?” Jungwoo looks around the small studio apartment. You can’t help but feel a bit self conscious and you cave into yourself, your arms crossing and shoulders hunched a little. 

“Uh, no! Not like that,” Jungwoo tries to reassure you, “I guess part of me didn’t believe it when you said you lived by yourself.” He plops down on the small couch (which takes up a majority of the apartment. 

“It’s okay.” You say. “...you're the first person I've brought over.” 

“Really?”

You nod.

Jungwoo opens his backpack and starts going through his stuff. He pulls out a white polaroid camera and pulls you over by your sleeve so that you’re sitting next to each other. “We should take a photo then! This is a pretty big deal.”

He snaps the picture of you two and shakes it so that it’ll develop faster. He grins as he looks at the picture before handing it to you.

“Thanks for letting me come over.”

“It’s not like the place is impressive or anything”

“It doesn’t have to be impressive. I’m just glad you were comfortable enough hanging out outside of school.”

“...Yea, I am kind of sick of you.” You snicker as he lets out a gasp and hits you. “That was rude!” You say.

“That’s it, I'm leaving.”

…

You peer up into Jaemin’s eyes as he continues to loom over you. He’s still talking, but you stopped paying attention to him a while ago. You’re not sure if he hasn’t realized that you're not listening or if he just doesn’t care. Your eyes flicker around the room, up to Haechan, who is now sleeping in your bed. 

Jaemin follows your gaze, “Don’t worry about him.”

Your eyes snap back to him, a bit dumbfounded, “What?”

“I mean don’t worry about him too much.”

“How can I not?” you ask him pointedly, “His mom died, Jaemin”

He moves so that he’s leaning against the wall next to you rather than standing in front of you.

“I think we all know that anyone could die in a zombie apocalypse.”

You sigh, “I know, but this makes it feel more real, ya’know? How am I suddenly the sympathetic one? Aren’t you guys friends?”

Jaemin picks at the skin around his fingernails. His movement makes you uncomfortable but you can’t bring yourself to stop him. “Of course I am. But I know Haechan, he doesn’t like being coddled, even though he could probably use the support right now. He doesn’t want it from me.”

“And I thought you were the bad boy.”

He shakes his head, “I might have the image, but he definitely has the emotional constipation that goes with it.” 

You're silent for a little while before he leaves to join the guys. You sit on the floor, a little further from the group but close enough to listen to their antics. You catch Jisung and Renjun glancing at you every once in a while, but they don't ask you to come closer and you don’t bother to move. 

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, being in your apartment makes it easy to ignore how the world is ending outside. Except for Haechan, of course, who has not left the comfort of your bed.

You make them some ramen and you all watch cartoon reruns on your shitty tv, changing the channel everytime some sort of news starts. You watch them grow tired and fall asleep, one by one. Eventually, you get up from your spot on the floor and climb the ladder up to your bed. 

Haechan shifts when you settle next to him. The bed is big enough that you aren’t pressed against each other, but if one of you were to roll over you’d end up laying on top of the other person. 

Jaemin might know Haechan well enough to leave him alone for a while, but you don’t. Hesitantly, you lift your hand and place it on his arm. You can feel him tense under your touch and you retract your hand, worried that Jaemin had been right and you shouldn’t have overstepped. You even think about leaving the bed so that he can continue to have a little bit of privacy, but he’s turning around to face you. His movement is slow and calculated, you can tell that he’s trying to not crush you. When he stops moving, the first thing you notice are his eyes. You might not have known this boy for very long, but the warmth and liveliness that was in them when you first met was gone, now bloodshot and sunken from all the crying he’s been doing. The darkness of the room makes the contours of his face look darker and he resembles the characters of a Tim Burton movie.

Haechan is avoiding your gaze and you wait for him to say something. When he does, it’s in a whisper, “Will you hold me?”

You nod at him and slip an arm under his head. He shoved his face into the crook between your neck and shoulder. You don’t say anything when you feel his tears hit your skin and you don't say anything when he tightens his grip around you. 

Haechans breath eventually evens out and you realize that he’s asleep. You aren't used to having anyone pressed up against you, and despite the way you squirm, it isn’t uncomfortable. You’re about to fall asleep when you hear someone climbing up the ladder. You quickly close your eyes and pretend to be asleep until the person goes down the steps. You peek an eye open just to see the top of Jeno’s head disappear. Was he just checking in on Haechan? You think about possibly asking him, but you’re much too tired to even try to get up. 

It’s the best night's sleep you’ve gotten in months.

…

Everyone is surprised when Haechan is the one suggesting you all get moving the next morning, but no one fights him on this. Instead, they pack their bags before deciding to walk further north. Renjun had woken up early and watched the news without any sound while everyone else was still asleep. Apparently, there were some camps set up across the country in order to help people, maybe some of their families ended up there.

Nobody says anything when Haechan holds your hand when you start walking. You can tell that they’re surprised that you’re letting him, except for Jaemin, who sends you an annoying wink when your gaze meets. 

Despite being the one to suggest leaving your apartment, Haechan is barely trailing after you. At times, it feels like you’re dragging him behind you. Yet, he never complains about the continuous walking or comment on the looks he receives when he wipes tears from his eyes.

You spend several hours walking. At one point, you came across a couple of bikes and rode them (two to a bike) until one of the tires popped, leaving Chenle with a nasty scrape on his knee after Jisung landed on top of him. You ditched the bikes after that. All the phones you guys had ran out of battery and you spent the night in an abandoned building. 

Without your phones, the eight of you were truly lost. Time and distance feel insignificant even when zombies appear. Your group had developed a routine, with Jeno, Mark, and Jaemin as the first lines of defense, all swinging bats at any zombie that got too close. With no other weapons, you are the second line of defense, clutching the knife that Mark returned to you. Looking back, you were stupid not to take more knives from your apartment, but everyone was too frazzled to think about potentially fighting zombies. 

Rarely do zombies get past the boys with bats, but there have been a few close calls when Haechan just doesn’t react to a zombie lunging at him and you end up shoving him out of the way. Jisungs instinct is always to run away and sometimes that means leaving the rest of you behind. Chenle will chase after him if he sees him run away, but once, when his knee injury was recent, his knee gave out trying to run and Jisung had gotten lost. Yelling would only attract more zombies, so you ended up going in circles in the area for maybe an hour, looking for him. You find him hiding behind a car, having a panic attack. 

After four days of walking, Mark and Renjun are talking about finding a place to shower in. You’re currently taking a break from walking, all of the boys are munching on protein bars and you’re taking a nap, head on Haechans lap. 

He isn’t talking much, but the two of you have become a clingy duo. Mark thought that you were just tolerating Haechan because you felt bad for him, but now, it seems like you reach out for him just as much as he reaches for you. Some of the other boys have taken it as a sign to be more comfortable with you too. Jaemin will often have an arm over your shoulder if you’re sitting next to each other. There's a look of longing in your eyes when you look at him that Mark just can’t figure out where it’s coming from, but he’s not that surprised that you like Jaemin, if anyone at all. Chenle and you have a habit of teasing Jisung, often about girls and his lack of knowledge about them.

The only one of the boys that still keeps his distance from you is Jeno. Mark hasn’t seen Jeno be so cold to anyone before. Sure, your first time meeting the boys was pretty rocky, but Jeno is supposed to be the nice one of the second years. Regardless, he keeps his distance and deals with you since the rest of the boys seem to like you. 

When he asks Jeno why he hasn’t grown to like you, Jeno only shrugs and says, “they’re your guys’ friend, not mine.”

“They let us into their apartment and they take care of Haechan.” 

“I don’t have to like everyone, Mark.”

Except Mark knows that that's bullshit and Jeno does like everyone… or at least everyone that the boys are friends with. There has to be something else, and Mark swears he’ll get to the bottom of it.

…

A day later, the eight of you stood on the side of a street. This street was elevated and overlooked a good part of the city. If you looked closely enough, you could see a zombie or two wandering. It turns out that zombies are mostly solitary beings, you don’t usually run into more than three of them at a time unless a loud noise attracts them. The view would be a lot nicer if you had seen it at sunset and Renjun suggests staying there until you get to see it. He found some color pencils in the house you all showered in the day before and took them with him. He had been sketching and drawing the entire day. Nobody disagrees with his idea to sit there for a while and let him draw. 

The sun is only starting to set and he pulls out his warmer colored pencils. He notices a dark spot of red that he tries to smudge, but it doesn’t budge.

“What the-” he mutters, gaining the attention of Jeno, who is sat beside him. The dot seems to be a light, similar to one of those cat laser pointers. The two boys follow where it comes from, just down the road.

Jeno, quicker than Renjun at realizing what it is, yells “Fuck!” and throws himself at Renjun, getting them both out of the way quick enough before a bullet is now where Renjun was sitting.

The noise makes all of you jump, and for Jisung and Chenle to wake up. Jisungs flight instinct kicks in and he moves to get up, although a bit sluggish compared to his usual reflexes.

“No!” Jeno yells, flinging himself to grab onto Jisungs ankle to keep him from running directly into open fire. Jisung falls on his face instead. 

Everyone is quiet for a second, trying to process that the first group of humans you’ll have to interact with since the apocalypse started just shot at you. Next thing you know, you're being swarmed.

Their lights are blinding and you all squint. You're all being yelled at to lay face down on the floor and you do. You're outnumbered, not that it matters considering they're all holding M4’s to all of your heads. The soldiers surrounding you haven’t stopped yelling and the whole situation makes you dizzy, your hands won’t stop shaking. 

From your spot on the ground, it’s hard to see the boys. There seems to be a soldier standing next to each of you, except for Jeno, who’s got three of them standing next to him, but that’s about as much as you can figure out by looking at a bunch of shoes. They’re spilling the contents from your backpacks on the floor and one of them confiscates the knife that you had left on the floor next to you. 

You yell out in alarm when the soldier next to you presses their knee to your back and pulls your arms behind you. The boys protest at your distress but shut up when Mark gets kicked in the gut. Your hands are tied behind your back with a zip tie and you think about how it might break open your skin with how tight the zip tie is. 

“This one had a knife,” he announced to the rest of the soldiers. The soldier that you assume is in charge is eying the bats that are sitting a little further from you guys, covered in blood and dirt. He yells at the soldiers to sit us all up.

“I am Sergeant Park. Congratulations on having survived this long,” he gestures to the bats, “I see you have found ways to stay alive. Now, you will all be taken to a survivors camp close to this location. Cooperate, and we will get you there in no time.” He turns to a soldier, “Search them, start with their fighter and end with the one with the knife.”

The soldiers surrounding Jeno drag him into a standing position, his hands are also tied with zip ties. There's a soldier holding onto each of his arms and he is roughly patted down. The rest of the boys' pat downs go by smoothly for the most part. Jisung flinches everytime the soldier places their hands on him and the soldier seems to have fun with this. Mark doubles over in pain when the soldier puts pressure on his abdomen where he was kicked.

Finally, you’re stood up and are getting patted down. There's a man behind you, holding your arms despite you already being restrained. You try your best to keep still and not say anything, even when the soldier unnecessarily squeezes your breasts. The soldier smiles sleazily at you and watches your face for discomfort as he moves on to your next breast. You don’t protest until his hands go more south, lifting up your skirt. You cross your legs in defense and try to move away only to cry out at the way that the soldier holding your arms twists them and the ziptie cuts open the skin on your wrist. 

“Get the fuck off them, man” you hear Jaemin protest. The soldier only laughs at him, “Little darling had a knife, kid. Gotta make sure they aren’t hiding anything else on them.”

Jeno struggles in their hold as well but is kicked onto his knees. 

Jaemin’s frustration only grows, “I said get the fuck off of them!” He’s able to shove off the soldier that was only loosely holding him and punch the soldier that had touched you before he’s jumped by another two soldiers and put on his back and also ziptied. They kick him a couple of times before you protest, “Okay! Finish your pat down or whatever. Just leave him alone.”

The soldier smiles smugly at Jaemin before standing in front of you again. You can’t help trying to squirm away when he lifts up your skirt again and you look away from the shitty man in front of you.

Later, when you get to talk about this moment, Chenle tells you that all of the boys looked away. It had been a traumatizing moment for you and perhaps selfishly, the boys didn’t want to watch that.

The soldier grabs your crotch tightly and he leans in close to you before whispering, “See, it isn’t so bad.” He leaves after that. 

The boys are allowed to stand up. Renjun helps Mark up. Jeno and Jaemin are being held by soldiers. Jaemin is visibly the most banged up by the encounter, but he holds himself well after having been in many fights. 

A truck driven by more soldiers approaches and the soldiers holding all of you push you in their direction. One of them orders Jisung to pick up your bats and he scrambles to do so. Renjun returns all of your dumped items into the backpack, only for it to be snatched from him. When the truck stops in front of you, the soldiers shove the boys on first before climbing in themselves. With no space left for you to sit, one of the soldiers beckons for you to sit on their lap. You don’t protest. 

The truck continues to go down the road, silently. It’s night now, so you can hear crickets and the crunching of the tire. Your group becomes alarmed when the truck takes a sudden turn, you would have fallen off the truck if not for the soldier's stiff grip. You’re now being driven away from the city, down a dirt path. The road is bumpy and you're sure the soldier under you is sporting a boner. You try to focus on controlling your breathing, closing your eyes so you can ignore the burning gaze of everyone on the truck. A hand falls on your thigh, radiating warmth as it presses against your skin. For a moment, you think you’re going to throw up. You feel a kick at your shoe and you open your eyes to see Chenle across from you. He smiles and winks at you and you can’t help but chuckle at his stupidity. 

The truck abruptly stops and the eight of you are pulled out of the truck and ushered into the camp. A clearing has been made for the camp, that much is clear with how its in the middle of the forest, with trees surrounding it in every direction except for the small dirt road you came in from. The camp is surrounded by two sets of tall wired gates. From what you can see, there is only one entrance and it is heavily guarded, even if there are military personnel throughout the entire perimeter.You pass through the first gate quickly after the sergeant gives the order to let you in, but the second gate is a bit trickier. There's a table with two medical professionals, fully covered head to toe. Here, they do simple check-ups on each of you, using lights to look into your eyes, ears, and mouth. Chenle gets his scraped knee disinfected and bandaged, but when they hand you all identification cards with your names on them, his comes with an extra symbol. From here, there are three entrances to the camp, a small gate opening behind the table where military and medical staff come in and out of, and two identical buildings on either side of the building. You are informed that the one on the right is for men and the one on the left is for women. Soon, you’re being pulled away from the boys, you follow the staff without much of a fight when you see the soldiers watching you intently. Once inside, you give the staff the card they hand just given you as you are led down the hall and into an office. 

You look around, trying to discern what sort of place this is. There are no windows and the walls are made of concrete. You can’t help feeling like you’re in jail. Despite this, the office is decently sized and well decorated, with a fancy looking desk and pc. You are directed to sit down and wait for the doctor before the staff closes the door. You sit in silence for a moment, listening to their footsteps fade away before you are out of your seat and trying to open the door; it’s locked. Defeated, you make your way back to your seat and look around the office. There's a plaque that reads Dr. Kang. You wonder if the boys are going through the same thing, locked into an office with an unpresent doctor. Your thoughts are interrupted when the door swings open and a woman walks in. She is young, maybe in her early thirties, with long dark hair and sharp eyes. She is wearing a sleek navy suit that accentuates the length of her legs. Her appearance would lead you to believe that nothing out of the ordinary was occurring and you can’t help but wonder how she has managed to find the time to keep her manicure looking nice. 

She doesn’t say anything when she walks in or sits down on the other side of the desk from you. Her eyes flicker to you for a second before returning to her computer screen, not wasting a second in acknowledging her. Still, you keep your eyes on her, not wanting her to think that she has the upperhand in making you uncomfortable. A couple of minutes go by of her clicking on her mouse and keyboard and you staring at her. Finally she seems to stop and look up to you. A smile graces her features and she makes eye contact with you, “I am Dr. Kang, nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

Her smile makes you uncomfortable rather than feeling reassured and you decide at this moment not to trust her. “I’m sure you already know that. I arrived here with seven boys, when will I be able to see them?”

She laughs at this, “I do know your name, but it is respectful to introduce yourself when meeting someone new. Nonetheless, I can see those boys mean a great deal to you, so let's try to do this quickly and get you back to them.” She watches you with the same cold smile until you nod in agreement. She asks you questions about your family, if you've contacted them and the sorts. You give her vague answers which she types quickly into her files. The questionnaire is quite boring, similar to what your physician may ask you at your yearly check up. She asks you about where you were when the outbreak happened and if you had lost anyone, if you were with the boys when it happened. You think about lying, telling her that yes, you had been with the boys the entire time, they had been your school friends that were together when misfortune struck, but you worry about being caught lying. Would it even matter? Still, you keep most of the truth to yourself, skipping over the part with Jungwoo and tell her that you met up with the boys a couple of days after the outbreak first happened. You hope they say the same thing. 

“When was your last period? Are you sexually active?” You know what she’s insinuating, of course. Her smug smile makes the question more telling as well. Although, you're not sure what reason she would have to feel smugly about knowing that you’re potentially having sex with one or multiple of the boys you were found with. 

Still you smile at her rather sarcastically, “Celibate, actually.” Your smile grows when you see her fake smile falter slightly.

“And your period?”

“Haven’t gotten it in a couple months.”

She hums, “Well, if you're sure you're not pregnant, then you were probably under a lot of stress, or something else could be potentially wrong. We’ll check in with you about that occasionally.”

You give her a curt nod. She types away at her computer for a while longer. She talks to you without lifting her gaze from her screen, “We’re done here. You’ll be getting your blood tested to make sure there aren’t any mutations in your DNA or are in the middle of turning.”

You’re taken from that room into another with medical equipment. A younger nurse approaches you and explains how she’s going to draw some blood from your arm. Her attitude is just as unsettling as Dr. Kang’s due to how preppy she is, but it seems more authentic and you haven’t decided if that's more or less concerning.

You flinch when the needle is inserted into your arm and she makes a comment about not liking needles. You watch her flip through a file that you assume belongs to you. There's a page that she spends significantly longer looking through and you can’t help but wonder what is written on it.

“You arrived here with other people?” You nod. 

“Are you all close?”

“We’re friends. Does it matter?” 

She laughs at your stiffness, “Just trying to make conversation. Usually the women's evaluation process takes longer than the men’s, so they’re probably about done, they could be entering the camp now.”

You can imagine them looking for you, walking through all of the bunk beds filled with people. Chenle and Jaemin might even be yelling for you, with Jisung following behind them, covering his face in embarrassment. She takes your fingerprint and a strand of your hair while tests are being run on your blood. You want to ask her why they need them but refrain from asking questions you know you won’t be given answers to. The machine she’s standing by dings when your tests are done and she scrolls through them. Her smile seems to die and is replaced by a frown. 

Your worry grows as she walks toward you and you sit up. She stops you with a hand on your shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, watching her pull open a drawer next to you. 

“I hope those boys care about you” she says before sticking a needle into your chest. 

You want to scream but realize you don’t have the energy to. You try lifting your hand to remove the syringe but your arm flops over before you can get a proper grip on it.  The nurse is laying you down as you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

What– what did she do to me?

You’re unconscious before you can come up with an answer.

...

tagging! @staysstrays, @caspervoid, @alyselenai, @lethephin, @leechipp, @kodzukena, @kikookii, @rkiveruinz, @shley-chan, @butterfliesinthenightsky, @olxviaaaa

wanna be tagged? click here:)

a/n: hi! sorry for being gone for so long. I can't promise consistency, but I had a lot of fun working on this chapter and already have a decent part of the next one written. This chapter is pretty long too! Enjoy :3

#nct dream x reader #nct dream x platonic!reader #mark x reader #renjun x reader #jeno x reader #jaemin x reader #haechan x reader #chenle x reader #jisung x reader #stay alive

[misswoozi]

I WANNA TALK ABOUT NCT

I've got a very extensive #NCT smut tag (which has NCT ships, cross-ships, headcanons, etc.) but I want MORE. I just cannot get the Neos off my mind lately and I just need some new NCTzen anons to come join me in the brain rot lmao

so if you see this and you also suffer from slutty Neo brain rot, send me some asks! need ideas? I've got you covered!

MTLs ("who in NCT 127 is most to least likely to fuck their partner at the beach?")

top 5's ("top 5 NCT members who like being choked?")

rating questions ("can you rate WayV's oral skills out of 10?")

headcanon requests ("how do you writeJeno/Jaemin?")

ship superlatives ("which NCT ship is the Loudest?")

AU discourse ("what would NCT Dream be like in a zombie apocalypse AU?")

idol 'would you rather' questions ("would Taeil rather send nudes or receive them?")

kink questions ("which NCT members would be into edging?")

compatibility questions ("do you think Xiaojun would be compatible with Monsta X's Hyungwon?")

random questions ("what type of Pokémon do you think Renjun would train?")

come talk about the Neos! if you're a new anon, claim an emoji/nickname and share your favorite ships/headcanons/scenarios!

(please note that I don't write anything NSFW for Chenle or Jisung!)

#i just love nct so much bro #i wanna talk about them constantly lmao #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #wayv smut

[alicanta77]

Post Mortem: Moodboard

i got some of the pics from @scared-aquarius and the others from google x

#post mortem #nct #nct dream #nct zombie #nct dream zombie #haechan #lee haechan #donghyuck #lee donghyuck #kpop moodboard #moodboard #nct moodboard #nct dream moodboard #zombie au #zombie moodboard #apocalypse moodboard #haechan moodboard #donghyuck moodboard #lee donghyuck moodboard #nct 127 #nct 127 zombie #nct 127 moodboard #nct haechan #nct donghyuck #nct dream haechan #nct dream donghyuck #nct 127 haechan #nct 127 donghyuck

[park-chan-yall]

TW // BLOOD and GORE

NCT Dream in the zombie apocalypse

#blood tw #gore tw #nct #nct dream #haechan #renjun #mark #mark lee #jeno #jisung #chenle #kpop #nct dream edit #mine #kpop edit #zombie au #myvideos #Idk...Enjoy! It took forever!

[swearwolf-writes]

swearwolf-writes masterlist

Agents of SHIELD:

Fanart:

- Robbie Reyes AKA Ghost Rider

Batfam

Headcanons:

- Batfam as TMNT Characters

Criminal Minds:

Fanart:

- Penemily ft the iconic strawberry dress

Disney Zombies:

Oneshots:

- Wyatt Lykensen - Chocolate [CROSSPOSTED ON: AO3]

- Wynter Barkowitz - Coming Out [CROSSPOSTED ON: AO3]

Fanart:

- The Moonstone Pack Den

I-Land:

Moodboards:

- i-land top 12 as demigods but with ~moodboards~: K || Hanbin || Geonu

Edits:

- Edit dump includes other fandoms

Julie and the Phantoms:

Fanfiction:

- Sunset Curve not Sunset Straight [CROSSPOSTED ON: AO3]

Fanart:

- Julie takes the boys shopping

Merlin:

Bullet Fics:

- Merlin: Magic for the Masses (fix-it fic + post-canon) [CROSSPOSTED ON: AO3]

Multifandom:

Edits:

- Edit dump - Red Velvet, ATEEZ, I-LAND, WAYV, NCT DREAM

Bullet Fics:

- A Bond Between Villains (poly!julesmickrian) - A Bond Between People/Et Band Mellem Mennesker (Alex Hogh Andersen), Villains (Bill Skarskard, Maika Monroe)

NCT DREAM:

Fanfiction:

- Doppelgänger Masterlist [CROSSPOSTED ON: AO3]

Edits:

- Edit dump includes other fandoms

Supergirl:

Oneshots:

- Today Is a Gift - Monwinn (with poly!monwinnayla (Mon-El, Winn Schott, Ayla Ranzz)) [CROSSPOSTED ON AO3]

Teen Wolf:

Moodboards:

- LGBT+ Moodboards Masterlist

Drabbles:

- Teen Wolf 2020 post-canon [CROSSPOSTED ON: AO3]

Oneshots:

- Get On With The Damn Game, Dunbar! - Briam [CROSSPOSTED ON: AO3]

- Whenever You Need Me - Brett Talbot x Nolan Holloway  [part of my Teen Wolf 2020 au || CROSSPOSTED ON: AO3]

The Falcon and The Winter Soldier:

Gif Sets:

- Sam Wilson: in a suit bcs dayum || Captain America (ep 1)

The Vampire Diaries/The Originals/Legacies:

Fanfiction:

- The Paradox Masterlist

Wandavision:

Gif sets:

- Aesthetics

- Wanda x Vision: (1) || (2)

#my works #masterlist #tvd #tvd fanfic #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfic #the originals #the originals fanfic #wandavision #disney zombies #zombies 2 #disney zombies fanfiction #wyatt lykensen #wynter barkowitz #nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream au #mark lee #lee donghyuck #haechan #lee jeno #na jaemin #zhong chenle #huang renjun #park jisung #supergirl #supergirl fanfic #supergirl oneshots #teen wolf

[fullsundh]

[15:39]

“you’re such a fucking idiot.”

it came out as almost a whisper whilst sadness and stress became evident in your voice.

you desperately stroked at donghyuck’s hair in attempts to calm him down. his head was placed in your lap and he looked up at you with tear-filled eyes. his breathing was irregular and rugged as he battled against the agony surging through his body. faint sounds of zombies groaning could be heard in the distance.

“i’m your idiot though.”

he let out a shaky laugh in an attempt to lighten to mood of the situation. you quickly broke eye contact to glance down at his body. blood covered almost every inch of his clothes and countless bites were scattered across his figure, each one deeper than the last.

“why didn’t you run?”

it was at this point you began to cry. the realisation started to hit you. the realisation that these moments were going to be his last.

“i had to protect you-“

“but we were supposed to survive this together, hyuck. you and me.” your voice gradually became louder as sadness faded into anger and fear.

“look at me, y/n” your boyfriend spoke softly as he gently moved your head back to the direction of his stare, slowly rubbing your skin to calm your crying.

“you have to do it y/n. you have to, now. please. please do it for me.”

you felt your heart break at what donghyuck was clearly hinting towards.

“i don’t want to turn into something that i’m not. i don’t want to hurt you.” donghyuck held back sobs as best as he could.

you silently watched as he pulled out his gun and shoved it desperately into your hands.

“you know what to do.”

you could only nod as you wiped away the tears on your cheeks. you hoped that any small action of yours could delay what was about to happen. but, you knew the reality of the apocalypse. there was no saving donghyuck.

he stared at you one last time, taking in every little detail that he had fallen in love with, but closed his eyes when he felt the cold metal gun press against his temple.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too hyuckie.”

and that’s when it happened. a loud shot echoed throughout the room. it rang out for miles yet no living soul was around to hear it but you.

everyone would say that the world ended the day that the apocalypse began. however, you felt your world end in that exact moment as you clutched onto the lifeless body of your boyfriend, unable to control your sobs and screams.

#zombie apocalypse! donghyuck #zombie au #haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck angst #haechan angst #haechan au #donghyuck au #haechan blurb #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct dream angst #nct dream au #nct 127 au #nct dream blurb #nct blurb #nct 127 blurbs #kpop angst #kpop au #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct dream #nct

[vvsminhyung]

iii. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝟖:𝟒𝟗𝐏𝐌

Kwon Y/N.

That's your name. Bleached blonde, doe eyes, pointed nose, and a tall figurine. Your name is Y/N, and your surname Kwon was papered by the Zhong's. A new identity after you were kept up in their household at the age of barely six years old.

You are the woman who swore something to your life.

Something related to risking everything for this one person who took care of you, and something about keeping him alive for as long as you live. Anything, at all cost. In order to repay his kindness and everything he has done for, you willingly dedicated yourself for his safety priorities.

This guy you were talking about is Zhong Chenle.

The only successor of the Zhong Prime Enterprises, and the boy who befriends you despite your unfamiliarity and one year gap. You saw something in him in your darkest times; light, happiness and hope. Eventually even shining brighter as he grow older before your eyes. He was more than joyful than ever as he aged, and you were glad to witness how he was totally living out his best life out there. It was the nice sight you would like to see for how long as it takes; keep it and treasure it. But it's not like it can exactly happen the way you want it, right? Everything has an end, and yours’ just started this afternoon.

"We are in your debt."

It certainly is. If it weren't for Chenle’s orders, these guys would have been seriously dead right now. There was no way in hell you would help them. Not the eight times scope that detected the living dead out there, nor the rifle that you held that time. People may call you selfish, but Chenle's being is the only thing that matters to you.

I can't just help strangers. Particularly, those who came from the infected city.

"Not really," 

Your eyes drifted to Chenle.

"Whether the situation outside has gone crazy or not, you're still a trespasser in my eyes. Is that right, Y/N?”

"Indeed."

They looked at you.

"Donghyuck has broken down the basic lock after the attempt attack."

The boy's eyes widen as he looked at the people in front of him, "S-Sorry."

Chenle frowned. "It’s not alright, but whatever. Not like you can do anything about it.” he gestured his younger friend to the second floor. "Jisung, show them the maids chamber. They can sleep there."

Few minutes after that, Jaemin finally got his chance to rest in his designated room with his friends. His body dip in the closest bed next to him as he sighed in exhilaration. All of this is wearing him out. For a teenager who isn’t a fan of doing lots of things, he sure did the whole opposite today. It was tiring. He just wanted to lay in this bed forever, and wished all of this is nothing but a dream. 

“She’s fixing the gate.”

Renjun stated, referring to your presence at the humungous metal gate. Your body was located outside the property, bravely fixing the mess they caused. You were changing the lock. Instead of a simple padlock, you added a proximity sensor to detect presence before the gate. This was used before, but you are changing it now in case it had broken down. The sensor did not detect those guys presence, so you assumed it was already too old. That way, you are alert anytime a presence has managed to stumble upon the Zhong’s Property. 

“This house is too modern to be built in a middle of a forest.”

“We have our reasons.”

Jeno blinked when the door pushed open to reveal the same boy from earlier. The one who helped them by the gate with his younger friend. His face looks nonchalant, as he motioned them outside. “Dinner’s ready. Go down after you settled here.”

Their eyes watch his figure walk away. Somehow, at some point, they felt a mysterious aura out from him.

It was chilling.

to be continued. ( 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐, 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟒. )

#nct dream #nct dream zombie apocalypse au #zombie apocalypse #zombies #mark lee #lee haechan #jeno #jaemin #chenle #renjun #jisung #apocalyptic au #zhong chenle #park jisung #huang renjun #lee jeno #na jaemin #haechan #mark