#zombie!au

[luveline]

steve zombie!au drabbles

reluctant allies to friends to lovers, takes place during the apocalypse

blurbs are vaguely non-sequential. i hope that they can be read in any order, but reading them in order probably makes more sense! I’ve tried to arrange the chronologically though they weren’t written that way. requests for the zombie au are open for any time in their relationship/ before or after they reach the college community

all in one place newest to oldest

all in one place written order

on the road

you and steve try to navigate without a compass

steve saves you from a zombie

you and steve hide from a storm

steve cuddles you to keep you warm outdoors

steve goes out to find your meds

you and steve trade secrets

steve clings to you after an injury

steve trains you in hand to hand combat

steve gets you a present when you’re sad

steve kisses you for the first time

you and steve find a lake to bathe in

you and steve run from scavengers

steve comforts you when you’re emotionally exhausted

at The College

steve finds robin and you join The College

you and steve get your own room

you comfort steve after he almost dies on a run

steve thinks about the future and having kids

you and steve make up after an argument

you and steve after a first time

you and steve think about before the college

you get taken, steve won’t rest til he finds you

you realise you can trust steve’s friends

steve comforts you after a nightmare

steve comforts you after a worse nightmare

steve confesses how scared he is of losing you

you start to feel like you’re not good enough for steve

steve knows how he wants to spend a quiet morning

steve fights to keep you safe when the north fence falls

after The College

you make your way back to steve

you take care of steve after he sprains his knee

you and steve get back to basics

steve almost gets bitten

you, steve and robin go on a quest for soap

steve takes care of you when you catch a cold

you go for a walk and give steve palpitations

#steve harrington x reader #steve zombie!au #zombie!au #for navigation

[shellxrls]

https://www.tumblr.com/shellxrls/747768360267350016/httpswwwtumblrcomshellxrls747767410238603264

okay but imagine having just fought off a bunch of zombies, and like totally freaking out nearly panicking. jj would totally brace you against his body n finger you right there to calm you down

— link

the adrenaline coursing through you was enough to expel a wave of dizziness through your head, your knees buckling against jj’s broad chest as a consequence — vision blurring with a fresh ripple of tears that had forced themselves up despite your so called courage in the face of potential infection.

“baby it’s okay, i got you, we’re safe,” he hums, soothing the prickling of fear inside you by running a course over your body with his forefingers, stopping only when he reaches your pants to rub soft circles into the crotch— decidedly assuming that this was the best (and maybe only) way to get you calm enough to regain some stability.

the crackle of leaves propels you out of your fear-induced stupor, leaning further into jj for support and letting out a whimper of dread. you assumed more zombies were coming, but he placates you by gesturing to the fact that it was only the wind, simultaneously moving his dexterous fingers to the inside of your pants, pushing your panties aside so he can finger you open with ease.

“shh, close your eyes, ‘m right here.”

you do as he says, falling back into the feeling of his body hugging your own, letting him finger you until you were soaking through your underwear and ironically feeling a bit more steady on your feet.

#asks.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹 #;anon #;concepts #zombie!au #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank

[scealaiscoite]

ೃ༄ zombie apocalypse prompts ˚◞♡ ⃗

— “are you bit?!”

— “i’m not going anywhere with you until i know you’re not infected.”

— “i haven’t felt this safe in a long time.”

— “what did you used to do? y’know, before all this.”

— “not that i’m complaining, but where’d you learn to handle a gun like that?”

— “i never thought i’d be so glad for my dad’s camping advice.”

— “how do you still not know how to read maps?!”

— “c’mon, just take it. i’ve got food to spare and you look like you haven’t eaten in weeks.”

— “let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

— “how did you survive this long on your own?”

— “tinned peaches and chocolate pudding. breakfast of champions right here.”

— “what were things like before? do you remember it? i don’t know if i’d want to.”

— “how many rounds do you have left?”₁ “not nearly enough to take them all out.”₂

— “it’s nice to sleep under a proper roof for once.”

— “go on, get some rest. nothing will happen to you while i’m here, i promise.”

#prompts #in honour of my burgeoning tlou and twd obsessions #zombie apocalypse #zombie apocolypse au #zombie!au #zombie!au prompts #zombie apocalypse prompts #apocalypse prompts #writing prompts #prompt list #writing exercise #dialogue prompts

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Do you write anything abt zombie apocalypse?

I can I suppose, however I haven't tried it. I was always so terrified of zombies growing up especially the series "The Walking Dead" but Zombie!141, Zombie!König and Zombie! Valeria be changing my mind.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #konig x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #zombie!ghost #zombie!au #zombie!141 #zombie!valeria #aethelwyne lia answers

[meguchi512]

the green was just supposed to be an undertone but i left the skin for last (something that i never do btw) and yk what. Fuck it. i'm gonna be thinking about zombie kanade now. for a very sane amount of time

#art #my art #digital art #artists on tumblr #prsk art #prsk fa #prsk #pjsk fanart #project sekai fanart #pjsk #kanade yoisaki #yoisaki kanade #kanade pjsk #pjsk kanade #n25 kanade #niigo kanade #zombie!au

[megastrangeskeleton]

Zombie!Wilbur headcanons

- First and foremost, boi is a rockstar, he does not have time to shower, he fucking stinks

- It’s a guess each day as to whether he smells of flesh or sweat

- Despite this, he’s quite stylish, a bit of a diva or in his bandmate’s kind words, a little bitch

- Since he doesn’t feel pain like a regular person, he can practice guitar for much longer without worrying about his fingers getting sore

- Loves his eyeliner, he thinks it makes him cool

- To satisfy his instinct to eat body parts, he lives off a diet of offal

- Tommy absolutely refuses to eat around his house for this reason

- “Wilbur, I love you, but I’m not dining on raw chicken liver”

- He’s a little bit paler than most but that’s ok :)

- Fans have noticed these…traits, but Wilbur plays into them as a bit so well that nobody really cares

- Speaking of which, since he’s undead he doesn’t really need to sleep, so he’ll spend this additional time editing or song writing

- He really likes rain, he’ll sit outside in it for hours on end

- When staying at Phil’s house, it’s not uncommon for raw meats to go missing as “midnight snacks”

- “Mate, those steaks were for a romantic dinner AND YOU ATE THEM ALL”

- He wants a cat, but he’s scared that his appearance will scare it off or his instincts will get the better of him and it’ll end up in his stomach

- He collects plush cats to combat this insecurity of his

- They may not purr or swat like real cats, but he’s just happy to have something that resembles once in his house, it makes it feel more like a home

#bursonas #zombie!au #zombur #zombie!wilbur #philza #tommyinnit #wilbursoot #wilbur soot #headcanons #mcyt #lovejoy #tom simons #charlie’s posts

[nouns-are-bad]

I’m subjecting you all to my zombie ghost ramblings

If we look closely we can see scars in the form of a smile next to ghosts mouth so Glasgow smile is a yes people

His mask is torn down on the right side (also seems like the eye there got scratched or something because it’s worse than the other one)

Also where do you think he got bit? My take is either on his arm (cliche I know) or on his neck because we can see faint patches of skin missing there under his chin

Also he could of gotten bit on an op considering he has all his gear on and isn’t in civies or in standard military wear

ALSO he isn’t wearing his mask underneath the skull!!! It either got tore off while he was getting infected or he didn’t wear it when he went on the op

#mw2 #headcannons #simon ghost riley #ghost mwii #ghost mw2 #zombie!au #zombie au #modern warefare ii #this ghost design is gonna get so much fanart I just know it #please let that be true

[scarrypossmscribs]

Zombie AU || Where mc got injured and is slowly dying ||

I like angst. Inspo from all the fan art of zombie!Ren and zombie movies i binged.  Gn!Y/N, zombie!Ren, Slight mention of gore.

(might be ooc please dont punt me into the sun am sorry) Just to be clear Y/N isn’t dying from a bite or anything.

“Kuh...” You struggle to exhale, blood bubbling out your throat and spilling from the side of your slightly cracked lips. 

Your sight, shaky, is still very much clear, and as you fall backward, your head held up slightly by someone, you stare at the metal pole through your abdomen.  

It's... cold. 

The pole sends shockwaves of chilling pain through you, the feeling of death and the absence of flesh finally dawning on you, as the adrenaline rush from the previous fight fades. 

“Ughmph- “ You groan, only to have more warm blood escape through your mouth.  You hear the sounds of more fighting, yelling, frantic calls for you to focus. But... it’s not enough. 

After all that? Everything we’ve gone through..?

You think as the world starts to slow. Tilting your head up to look at Leon.

And you remember that you were trying to protect them from an attack. 

I guess... dying protecting a friend is better than dying alone because of starvation.. or something..

Trying to breathe steadily, you smile, knowing that you’re dying for a good cause. Even if everything started over a stupid fight for supplies at an unknown gas station in the middle of nowhere. 

Not knowing how long you have left, you crack a smile at Leon, whispering soft “I’m okay”’s, to hopefully comfort them from the gruesome sight. 

The sounds of fighting lessen, and you see your zombie friend, Ren, frantically looking over you as they aggressively push Leon out of the way, cradling your head protectively. 

“S’don’t be mean” You murmur, words slurring. 

You hear vaguely hear him respond with disheartening growls and grunts, and feel him bury his head into the crook of your neck. 

You close your eyes, resigning to your grim fate when you feel a burst of pain from your shoulder. And a pulsating, stinging feeling, thumping in your chest. 

“Agh!” Your head jolts and your body weakly struggles, writhing in the added pain. 

What? No. No, no, no, no.

You try to get a good look at Ren, as he lifts his head and stares back down at you in desperation.

Why? What if you weren’t able to stay sane like them? Ren is a rare case- what if I hurt someone?

You look into Rens’ eyes, and something just... clicks.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you go wild, hurt, or kill, your friends. 

Just as long as you’re alive and safe, by his side.

Anger, fear, and something unknown pulse through your veins, as you pray to whatever god there is for what comes next.

#14dwy #zombie!ren #14 days with you #ren #[redacted] #yandere #zombie!au #14dayswithyou

[negativecharm]

AGHHHH AAAAA AAAAAAAAA I WAS READING ZOMBIE GHOST SMUT AT WORK AND LWET MY PHONE OPENED ON TH DESK TO CLOSE UP THE SHOP WHYYyyyyy

#shame shame shame shame #i'll take it a s a brutal vibe check from God for sinning too much on this app #zombie!ghost #zombie!ghost x reader #zombie!au

[scarisd3ad]

Till the end [steve harrington x f!reader] zombie apocalypse!au

Chapter one

Masterlist

Taglist

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Steve didn't really remember when he had fell asleep during his lunch break but he guessed he did.

He lifts his head up off of the table glancing back at the wall clock. It was 5:30. His lunch was at 12:45 and he was supposed to be off 2 hours ago. Robin was doing the closing shit today, why the hell didn't she wake him up he thinks to himself.

"Hey robs why didn't you wake me up?!" He shouts. He can't see anyone through the translucent window, and he can't hear the normally loud sounds of scoops and the mall. There was no way barely anyone was here. It was a Friday during the summer. He pops his neck as he stood up. He was supposed to go to his girlfriends once he got off, but he guessed he was just going to have to call her, hoping she'd forgive him. "Robs?" Still no answer god could she not here him. Then he spots a piece of paper taped to the door. It was short, the hand writing was messy like the person leaving it was in a hurry. The hand writing was definitely robins though.

DONT LET THEM BITE!

He furrows his brows. Don't let who bite? He thinks he gulps as he walks up to the door pushing it open. Scoops is a mess. Chairs pushed around, tables laying on the ground, blood everywhere. The mall was also equally a mess. Blood why was there blood though. Then he spots one. A groaning, stumbling, person?

He doesn't bother calling out to it he's seen enough zombie movies to know better.

Then he sees another, and another. One was feasting on a woman's barely recognizable body and her infant. He felt like he was going to throw up. How was he even going to get out of here was his second thought but his first was immediately worrying about y/n. Where was she and was she safe.

He knew he had to get out of here, to his car, and to her house, just to make sure she was safe.

He quickly retreated back to the break room to grab his things first, and some kind of weapon. He scrambles around grabbing his keys, and anything he thinks he'd need. He finds some type of metal pipe he thinks will work amazingly then he sets off.

He has the pipe over his shoulder to swing at any moment. He quietly walks out into the mall trying not to alert any of those things but he immediately does. One quickly turns around, sniffing before running at him. Steve swings hitting the thing straight in the head. Then he runs like the wind, he's quiet plan wasnt going to work. He had to get out as soon as possible. So he ran having at least five of those things chasing after him, he finds the first door to the parking lot and bolts out of it. Keeping them on the other side banging at the metal door.

The parking lot is in a similar situation as the mall. Cars askew dead body's. The parking lot is mostly empty except for the few brain dead things? Stumbling around. Steve sees his car and bolts towards it. He unlocks his car as he sprints towards the car. His foot steps somehow draw every one of those things in the parking lot towards him though.

As soon as he's at his car he opens the door, gets in and closes it, locking every door. he puts the key into the ignition of the car and turns it. The car growls as it starts up drawing even more. every one of them are banging at the glass of his car. They're covered in blood in guts, his heart is beating a mile a minute. He feels like he's going to cry. What if she's dead, what if she's one of those brain dead mother fuckers, what if he was just too late. He'd blame himself forever if he found out she died.

Their hand prints are smearing on the glass as they bang. He's scared their going to break the glass so he hits on the gas pulling out of the parking lot, and definitely hitting a few on the way out.

The streets of hawkins and basically the same, full of those things, and blood. Everything is recked, cars, houses. It looked like someone just stole everything living and replaced it with zombies. Windows are broken cars are crashed, it's terrible.

As he approaches her house his heart is leaping out of his chest. He's praying to god she's in there, alive.

Her house was crowded in the front. He sees her sister among some of the brainless bunch moaning and growling at his car. He wonders how she died, how she felt as she passed on turning into one of them. He sighs as he grabs his pipe from the backseat before turning off his car and pocketing his keys.

Getting to her door was the hardest part. He had to kill a bunch of those things, and then once he got to the door it was locked. He should've known that. He's covered in blood now, and even more of those things are coming towards him. He hops the fence to her backyard and sighs in relief as he sees none of them are back there. He pulls himself onto the roof, just like he did many times during high school, and carefully walks towards her window.

He relieved with he sees her balled up on her mattress.Her door is barricaded and she has a kitchen knife clutched in her left hand.

He taps on the glass a few time. He doesn't mean to scare her but she jumps. She has a frightened look on her face and tears stained cheeks.

"Oh my god"she sighs as she sees him. Relieved to see him. She unlocks the door pulling him into her room before locking it back. "Stevie" she says hugging him. He sighs with a smile as he's comforted by a familiar hug. He wraps his arms around her, as he presses a kiss on top of her head. "I thought you died, are you okay?" She asks as she pulls back examining him for any bites.

"I'm fine, are you okay?" He asks, "scared, my mom she came home but sh..she was acting weird" she says before burying her face into his shoulder as tears fell down her cheeks. "She bite my sister they are both one of those things now" she crys into his shoulder. He's rubbing her back as he asks "where's your dad" she shrugs in response.

He sighs as he decided they need to leave. This place wasn't safe they needed to get as far away as possible. "Your dad has a gun right?" She pulls away brows furrowed. She nods "yeah? Why?"

#fanfics #joe keery #x reader #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #zombie!au #zombie apocalypse #the walking dead #the walking dead!au #zombie apocolypse au #fem!reader #female!reader

[raeganpog]

wei wei w w w we wei wuxian

#not super living laughing or loving this one #but its okay bcause its wei ying #the untamed #wei ying #wei wuxian #zombie!au #i guess #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #i love drawing flowers now #my art #art #procreate #sketch #doodle #digital art #artists on tumblr #lotus pier #burial mounds #lotus flower #lotus root and pork rib soup #guzzling that mf down #soup is gas

[luveline]

ZOMBIE AU YES steve and you but reluctant allies - forced to travel together and when you get stuck in a tight spot, you fully believe he's going to leave you behind. but steve does what he does best, he comes back

tysm for ur request! reluctant friends to lovers arc starts now. tw for zombie typical gore, violence + apocalypse struggles (near enoigh starvation, weight loss, isolation) this got longer than it was meant to

It's not that you don't like Steve. Though maybe that's what he thinks. He doesn't seem to like you all that much.

Steve Harrington is pretty. He's a pretty boy. You hadn't expected him to be able to fight or defend, or even run all that fast. He'd proved you wrong on each account eventually — "I ran track, idiot," — but the reluctance of your pairing has remained.

You can't like everyone. You and Steve simply don't fit. You didn't in high school and you don't now, and you know in reality that he doesn't like you. Not really. He tolerates you and he shares with you because you have more chance of surviving together than apart.

He searches the waste of Indiana for his friends. You follow. You have nothing else to do.

You're scouring for supplies in a mall not unlike the Starcourt in Hawkins. You imagine it's as desolate and derelict as this one. Escalators frozen in time, storefronts destroyed by time. Dangerous. There's a thousand places for a zombie to be dwelling. They aren't good at hiding, obviously, but you're also not good at finding them. Steve says you have poor observational skills.

"Yes, well, I'd hardly have any reason to need them if it weren't for the end of the world," you mutter.

"Why do you talk like that?"

"Like what?" you ask with a scowl.

"Like- like a rich girl. A really rich girl."

"I don't sound anything like you."

"Weak insult based in sexism. Next."

You drop the shirt you'd been looking at. "Right, I forgot. Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, progressive."

He meets your gaze and smiles at you. He does this, sometimes, where he forgets he doesn't like you. Then something happens, a disagreement or an argument, and you're back to square one, Steve and his burden.

"I'm very progressive." He looks between you and the shirt he's holding, a men's cut, plain with long sleeves. It looks warm. "I think this'll fit. Come here."

You step over a fallen mannequin and let him hold the shirt to your abdomen.

"You're losing weight," he murmurs.

"Lucky me."

His hand touches your shoulder and he draws very close. "Bad news."

"I had it to lose."

"You need all the help you can get." He doesn't bother saying why. You're both more than aware of how dire the food situation is getting. If you can't find anything worth eating here, you're probably fucked. You might be fine. (You're fucked.)

You take the shirt. "Do you think it's silly to put it on now?"

"Definitely. I'll turn around."

He turns. You put your bag on the floor and quickly take off your outerwear. Your shirt smells bad because you smell worse, the strong smell of sweat no matter how much you scrub at it lingering. The fabric is imbued with a permanent odour.

New t-shirt in place, you preen at the feeling of new cotton over your skin.

"Are you done?"

"No-"

"Hurry. We need to move."

You always 'need to move'. You think Steve says it to sound cool.

You pull your clothes back on and hang your backpack from your aching shoulders. Over time, the bag feels heavier. Funny, as it's contents constantly lighten.

"We haven't found anything for you yet," you say.

Your shirt had needed replacing, it was thin and stained with a seam slowly unthreading. Steve's pants are worse. The zip is tied closed with a hair tie and the cuffs are pulling apart.

Steve reveals a pair he'd already set aside. "Tada."

"Put them on!"

"Sheesh, hold your horses."

"You could've been changing while I was. You always nag about wasting daylight."

"And leave us both defenseless. Good idea." His tone suggests a genuineness he doesn't possess.

You stand guard. Steve changes. You have that intrusive thought to turn and look at the sound of his belt unbuckling, the shucking of fabric. Intrusive, unreal. You don't look because you're not a pervert. You do, however, wonder about it. His naked legs, his thighs.

You shake your head and bite the inside of your lip to stave off bad thoughts. Stupid.

"Let's go."

Out of the clothing store and back to the walkways. You and Steve skulk with your backs to each other and some space between you, watching the open shutters for zombies or other people. You don't know which is scarier.

The mall is wrecked. Smashed glass, mysterious liquids, no electricity. Daylight streams in bright and unhindered by the huge skylights above. Nature struggles to fall in with it, but it does. Birds nest in the rafters, bugs cling to the walls. You suppress chills at the scuttling sounds of vermin and almost trip over an upended rack of stuffies outside of the toy store.

"You okay?" Steve asks. You don't know if he's looking at you, your eyes pinned on the stairwell across the way. Accidental or otherwise, making noise is a signal to the zombies that you're here.

If there's anybody here, they definitely would've heard you.

You don't answer Steve's question. He doesn't ask again.

"There's, like, a hot pretzel stand to the right," he says, intrigued.

You check what's in front of you one last time and then catch up to Steve. You'd love to take his arm, not because you think he'd let you or anything, but it's easy to miss touching people and he's right there in front of you.

"Under the shutter," he says quietly.

You crawl under and emerge in the dark. Steve joins you with his torch already in hand, flashing light quickly in all four corners of the room.

"This might be a bad idea," you whisper.

"It's okay. I doubt zombies can crawl."

"If they can?"

Predictably, Steve ignores you.

He weaves between untouched chairs and tables. You catch onto the end of his shirt and he's generous enough to pretend you haven't, the two of you making your way to the front counter. There might've been edible food behind the glass once but now it's all infested. It's disgusting.

You've seen a lot worse.

"That's gross," Steve says.

You tap the display and a dead fly falls off of the glass.

"Lift the counter?" you whisper.

You make your way to the employees only door. "Be careful," he reminds you under his breath, "be quiet. You have your knife out?"

"Got it."

He throws the door open quick and looks around. There's a walk-in freezer to the left, an old couch in the middle, and a storage area to the right. Steve again checks each corner with the flashlight, the both of you holding your breath. You're holding the knife so tightly you can feel each divot of the grip moulding your skin.

"I think we're clear."

"I think we need another torch," you mumble.

It's really scary in the dark.

"They'll have batteries somewhere," Steve says. You think he might be humouring your fear. He's likely tired of having to reassure you.

Again, you grab his shirt. It's too dark to navigate the room without him.

Steve leads you to the staff kitchenette, opening the cabinets one by one. There's mugs in one, plates in another. Untouched by dust.

He has you hold the torch while he searches through drawers of kitchen tools and equipment.

"Do you miss pretzels?" you ask.

"Mm. With the cinnamon sugar."

"You like cinnamon?"

He pushes aside what looks like an ice cube tray of all things and finds an old key. He offers it to you with a peculiar smile, as if to say What do you think that does?

"Everyone likes cinnamon," he says.

"Not everybody."

"Everybody I knew did. Robin fucking loves cinnamon. At Christmas, she'd make me take her out for warm cinnamon cookies and... frozen cokes." His tone had started soft. It ends strangled.

"Frozen cokes? In winter? Isn't that sorta weird?" you ask.

He shuts the drawer harshly and doesn't answer. Your attempt to cut the tension backfires once again with him. Who could've guessed.

The next drawer is a motherlode.

"Yes," you say, cheeks taken by a sudden smile.

There's enough batteries to power your torch for a year. Steve tears open the packet and holds a hand up without looking at you. You scramble to open your bag and pull out your torch. Bigger and heavier than his is, it illuminates larger spaces and makes for less nerve-wracking supply runs, but it eats batteries like no tomorrow.

Steve cracks open your proffered torch and loads it up with batteries. The light flickers on before he's put the closing back into place.

He shines it straight in your eyes.

"Nice," you grumble.

"Now you got your own you can quit clinging," he says. "Why don't you go look in the freezer?"

"It'll all be spoiled. There hasn't been electricity in forever."

"Might find a can of something," he says with a shrug.

"If you want me to leave you alone, just say that."

"I want you to leave me alone."

You huff and spin away. Your torch shines over the couch, an ugly mess of floral pattern that went out of fashion a decade ago but is surprisingly new for a staff room. You drop yourself into it and stare at the ceiling for a while, dust motes drifting in the ray of torch light like snowflakes. You haven't seen snow in a long enough time that you're surprised you can remember what it feels like. If you close your eyes, stick out your tongue, a cold like ice feels sharp on your taste buds.

Steve cusses to himself. You sit up and find him sucking on an injured finger.

"Need help?" you ask.

He sticks his knife into the top of a cardboard box. "What did I tell you? Go look in the freezer."

"Steve, there's not gonna be anything in there."

"I worked in a place like this before. Just look."

You roll your eyes, feel super guilty about rolling your eyes, and then roll your eyes again when he says, "Don't be lazy."

"I'm not," you defend. Your whining falls on deaf ears.

The freezer door handle is fucked. You pull and pull until your palms burn and can't get it to unlock. Changing tactics, you press all of your weight forward and feel something click like it's not supposed to. The door crashes forward and you fall to one knee with a startled shriek.

Your heart slams between your ribs. When you're trying to be hypervigilant of every small sound, every movement, every change in your environment, sudden events are like a shot of adrenaline.

You land on one hand. Your torch flickers further in the room.

"Fuck," you mutter.

"What happened?" Steve asks, his footsteps fast and moving toward you.

You scramble forward to grab the torch before he can see you've broken it. You're ashamed at your own idiocy — you burn with it, a flush of heat in your cheeks that. Steve won't lie to you to make you feel better, so if the torch is broken he's gonna call you an idiot for it.

"Nothing!" you call.

The smell hits you like a freight train. Spoiled milk. Shelves and shelves of spoiled milk and batter. You gag and throw a hand over your nose. It smells almost as bad as a zombie, and they smell like fresh hell.

"Y/N," Steve says.

You throw your eyes over your shoulder and realise the door has closed behind you. There's a sound of a jiggling door handle on the other side. From your side it doesn't move.

A sinking feeling begins.

"Steve," you say, hitting your torch against your thigh. The light flickers off completely. You gawp.

"Can you open the door?"

You push your weight against it urgently. The handle doesn't want to move.

"I can't get it," you say, panicked.

"Push it inward."

"I am!"

"Okay, alright. Hold your horses."

"Steve, it won't open."

"I heard you the first time. Don't worry. I'm gonna get it open."

You throw yourself at the door. Steve must guess from the sound. "Stop," he says, frustration seeping into his low tenor, "that's not gonna work. It's hinged inward. Stand back, okay? I'm gonna force it."

"It's dark in here," you murmur pleadingly, moving away from the door.

"What?"

Your own fast breathing echoes around you. You hit the torch with the meat of your palm and the light flickers. You hit it again and it dissapears. You shouldn't be so scared, but the door closed means your trapped and the dark feels so oppressive now. Dark means you die, because you won't see a zombie before it bites you.

You realise that there's more than one person breathing.

Or rather, an illusion of breathing. A moan.

Your blood turns to ice as you spin. Your torchlight flicker flicker flickers, illuminating the face of somebody long dead.

"Oh my god," you say. It sticks to your throat like each word has been dipped in honey. Or ichor. "Fuck, Steve! Steve!"

"What?" he shouts back, equally freaked.

One eye opens. The other remains closed. One second, you can see the open socket, half an eyeball. The next, pitch darkness filled only by the grind of clicking teeth. Your breath catches in your throat and you keen as you walk backwards, the torch shaking in your hand.

The light flicks back on with your movement.

The zombie's face appears in front of yours.

You scream and fall flat on your butt, backpack preventing you from slamming onto your back. The torch turns off. You scrabble for your knife — where the fuck is your knife? Where's your knife?

Steve hammers against the door. "What the fuck?"

"There's a fucking geek in here!" you squeal, throat tight. You can barely get the words out. The zombie can't see you in the dark but it can hear you, it can smell you, and it's footsteps draw closer, one after another.

"Steve, get me out of here!" you beg.

He doesn't answer.

"Steve?" You don't sound like yourself. You're not sure you've ever made this sound before.

Nothing.

Your hands shake hard. You can't feel them as you bring the torch into your lap. You try to find the catch in the dark. When you can't you mess with the lens, screwing it tight to the right. You feel it move in, spinning back on.

The light exposes the zombies gained distance. He towers over you and you can't speak, can't breathe, can't sob. You hold your arms in front of your face and hope it won't hurt.

The door slams open. You get pushed roughly into the zombie's legs, the breath knocked from your chest.

You crumple in on yourself.

Footsteps slide with a rubber screech over the linoleum and you search the floor for your torch, breath coming in shirt pants. Your hand closes around it and you flick the switch with little success. Broken again. You must've loosened a fuse.

"Steve," you say desperately. Please don't die.

The zombie makes a noise like retching, Steve groans in extertion and then there's a sound of wetness, a sinking. A body falls to the floor.

Silence.

You flinch as he turns on his torch and shines it in your face.

"Oh, thank god."

Steve leans down and helps you up into his arms. You struggle to catch your breath, your face pressed hard into his chest. You can't cry though you desperately want to, too busy fighting for air.

Steve holds you, hands at your back. "It's okay. You got it, dummy, just take it slow."

You nod. You can't really focus as he pulls you out of the freezer. The air noticeably changes from brain matter to plain old stale.

"I thought you-" You swallow against an aching throat. "I thought you were gonna leave me."

"Why would you think that?" Steve asks.

"I was- I-" you stammer to a halt.

Your arms move of their own accord, over his shoulders and behind. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, hot tears spreading over his skin as you pull him in close, as close as you can.

Steve's hand is slow at first, hesitant against your shoulder. Your backpack stops him from hugging you properly, but you think maybe he might try otherwise.

"I wouldn't have left you here," he says.

There's hints. Confusion, sincerity. A rawness. You can't see his face, his torch pointed up at the ceiling, only where the light kisses his brow, the bridge of his nose.

Steve let's you cling until you've caught your breath.

"Let's sit down," he says.

He encourages you onto the old couch and shoves his small torch between the cushions. You miss his touch as soon as he leaves, an anxiety at being left alone dawns like a yawning chasm between you. Your relief when he returns can't be understated: you feel like a spent, abused nerve.

Cortisol and adrenaline crash through your veins. All that's left to do is come down. Hard, when you don't feel completely safe. Haven't felt completely safe in a long time. Steve's return helps.

"Don't touch the rim. It's sharp," he says, pressing an open can into your hand.

"Steve, is this-"

He passes you a spoon. "Sure is."

You don't have the luxury of nausea. Life or death situations start to wear off quicker when you're hungry, half-starved, and after a few good mouthfuls of pudding you're starting to feel better. Not perfect, not any less afraid, but there's a door between you and the zombie's dead dead body, and a door with a chair propped under the handle between you and the rest of the world. And there's Steve, a spoon between his lips with your poor torch in hand.

"You left your knife on the table. Do you know how stupid that is?" he asks, a spoon hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Yes."

"Hm." He whacks the torch with his spoon. "Shit."

"I'm sorry."

"About the knife? You should be. You were totally defenseless."

"The torch."

He puts your torch down on the floor besides your gathered things. "Couldn't be helped."

"How'd you open the door?"

"Running start."

You sniffle and eat another spoonful of pudding. The last thing you'd eaten was half a gronala bar in the early hours of the morning when Steve had insisted you'd need your energy. It had been a year out of date and chalk in your mouth. The pudding may as well be straight molten gold for how valuable it feels.

It goes down soft. Calms your aching throat. By the time you've finished you almost feel settled. Almost.

"Steve... I'm sorry. For thinking you'd leave me. That's not fair. I mean, I know-" Why is it hard to talk to him? He's the only perosn you've had for company in God knows how long and you're still fumbling for the right thing to say. "You wouldn't do something like that to me. You have morals."

"I would do anything for my friends," he says, like he's disagreeing. "I would do anything to see them again. See them safe. Anything."

You bite your tongue. Tears sting. Hypocritical tears, because haven't you had that thought before? You'd do anything to get what you want. You'd do anything to live. Steve doesn't owe you anything.

"I didn't think you'd come back," you confess sheepishly.

"I'm always gonna come back for you."

You look up at him, finding his eyes illuminated in the dim light sweet and soft and brown.

"I want you to be safe."

"Are you saying I'm your friend?" you ask.

He glares at you. "Are we in middle school?"

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? What, I have to invite you to my birthday party or something? We need to go rollerblading together?"

"You're an asshole."

He snorts. "Asshole just saved your life."

"I didn't even wanna go in there, if you remember. I expressly said that I didn't wanna go in the freezer. It's your fault I was even in there in the first place."

"That's ridiculous. And a low blow. And fuck you."

"Not very friendly."

He laughs abruptly. It's a pretty sound, made golden by it's genuineness. Steve does sarcastic snickers and mocking chuckles, and none have ever sounded as his true laugh does now.

"I'll show you friendly," he mutters.

You raise your eyebrows. He moves enough to make the couch shift, upheaving your empty can and spoon. They fall together with a metallic clinking.

You watch mournfully. "I kind of wish I hadn't eaten it that fast. When's the last time we had sugar?"

"Don't speak too soon."

Steve shows you the stash. An entire box of pudding, enough to feed you both for a month, though the sugar might rot your teeth.

"We'll be sick of it in a week," Steve promises.

You're not so sure. Chocolate is chocolate, whether it's eaten during the zombie apocalypse or not.

-

more steve zombie!au

#steve harrington imagine #zombie!au #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve zombie!au

[meowthefluffy]

Don’t worry you guys, I promise he doesn’t bite! —————————————

heres my first drawibg for Prinxiety week! (im starting a bit late lol) i hope you like it!

#The retired the #Zombie!au #zombie!au #roman sanders #tsroman #roman angst #prinxiety #sandersides #tsvirgil #virgil sanders #sanders sides #tw blood #blood

[scbrvght]

“ you want to do what? ” at this stage in her life, nothing should surprise her. she was pretty sure, right about now, she would be working at her fathers shop just as she did everyday -- but no she was miles away leading a group of people through the apocalypse. if that wasn’t enough to kill all other surprises life had for her, she didn’t know what would. but as the words left his mouth she had to do a double take. “ I mean it doesn’t sound like a bad idea but ... wait what, say it again? ” her words came out sounding a bit more like a question than a statement. the girl was used to not agreeing with dillon, but now that his idea was actually decent it ended up just putting her in a state of confused. their conflicting ideals about how things should go had been somewhat of an uphill battle in the past. it didn’t mean she didn’t respect him. actually, serena did appreciate all that he did for them -- despite what it might look like. at this point she was open to any suggestions, well except maybe logan’s -- those tended to be a bit unachievable at times... brilliant at others but, mostly impossible.    //  ✧���ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ closed starter: @invcntions​  

#invcntions #❪ᶜʰʳ❫ 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ⁞ serena anders. #❪ᶜʰʳ❫ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 ⁞ serena ➞ dillon. #zombie!au

[myscprin]

When you've just pulled an all nighter to start and finish reading an angst fic just to see another angst fic got updated

Big big shoutout to @changethecircumstances 's Waking Up to Burnt Bridges and @you1gnorant5lut 's Beautiful as the Day

#i am not okay #emotional damage #but 1000% worth it #10/10 fic recs #jalim #house of ashes fic #zombie!au #au #mysc personal #good thing im on break #'cause im pretty sure im dehydrated from all this crying #will be in contact with a cardiologist too for my broken beatup heart #ok gn everyone

[ebaylee422]

Gonna post the first chapter of Emerald and Sapphire, and the holiday trios on Tuesday. As well as the sneak peek to a ZombieAU and the other long-term ST fic. Starting the new year with lots of things and hopefully a genuine writing schedule. Comment below if you're not already on a tag list and would like to be for one of these. Or you will find most of them on my Masterlist starting 12/20.

#aemond targaryen x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove x reader #oneshot #zombie!au #fix it fanfiction #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut #aemond targaryen smut #billy hargove smut #original character #stranger things #house of the dragon