#warm bodies x reader

[crystalflygeo]

How to Warm Up your Dragon ft Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: ngl this is MOSTLY VERY FLUFFY but it has a veeeery spicy part ehehehehe, praise kink, biting, bit of rough sex, creampie, dirty talk. Reader is technically Fontainian but you can ignore that tbh

notes: Y'ALL THIS HAS BEEN ON MY WIPS SINCE BEFORE FONTAINE IT'S BEEN SOSOSOSOSO LONG I started writing at the start of winter here, now it's summer lmao but hey at least it's winter in the northern hemisphere so... enjoy the snow and dragon man!! Also also... no one guessed what the gift was but Rin was the closest!

Your mother always used to say the way to a man's heart was with food.

you wonder if that applied to archons... er, dragons? adepti?

In any case...

Zhongli has always been a... particular eater. A very refined palate. It's not that he was hard to please, to tell the truth. But he always seemed to have an extra comment, something to add or change to a dish to make it ‘a little more special’.

But you'd quickly find out he had a soft spot for broths and soups, bamboo shoot soup being his particular favorite. Even when it took a lot of hard work and time to prepare, the way he did so was worth it, simply spectacular.

That's why you could almost cry with joy when he happily praised one of your favorite dishes. A fantastic soup d'oignon passed down on your family. Nothing to add, no extras or corrections, he'd enjoy it to its fullest talking about the creamy texture and unique flavor of the cheese so different from those found in Liyue.

So, today you decided to prepare it. Nothing better to warm up on this chilly season, and besides you'd just received a shipment of ingredients from your family.

The rhythm of a knife on a cutting board fills the air, along with a delicious smell. You finish slicing the onions into thin strips and add them to the pot at the stove, humming lightly while stirring. You really hope nothing would keep your dear Zhongli too busy today, so he could be just in time to enjoy this while still fresh and warm.

You turn off the other burner as the beef stock had already warmed up, and start washing some dishes while keeping an eye on the food. It is… rather amusing just how domestic this all feels. Not too long ago you were adventuring over Teyvat, facing off all sorts of crazy dangers, exploring, and never stopping in one place and now… now this feels like home.

And that is without taking into account who your fiancé even is. The former Geo Archon. You shake your head with a light chuckle. It’s still so weird to think of such an imposing figure from legends to be so… him.

You dry your hands and start to pour the broth on the now-golden onions, stirring.

Zhongli is sweet, caring, attentive, wise, with just the right words at the right time. Admittedly a bit airheaded at times, funny when he wants to be. A refined gentleman through and through unlike anyone you’d ever met.

And he loves you.

And you’re engaged.

Warmth rises up to your cheeks along with a small smile as you lower the heat and start grating the cheese.

You heard sounds at the front door and then steps. Oh, early today. Zhongli walks up to you with a smile, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek, his hands resting at your waist as he leans in from over your shoulder. “Welcome home, Li.”

“Thank you” He replies in that deep suave voice. “That smells good my love, would you like some help finishing?”

You shake your head a little. “Please, there’s no need, you just got home. Go take a bath and unwind a little, I’ll finish here and we’ll eat.”

Zhongli looks as if he’s about to say something but simply nods. “Hmm, alright then.” He pulls you a little closer in his embrace, as if he’d missed your contact, your scent. Zhongli inhales deeply, tension seeping off of his body and he gives a soft kiss at your shoulder before almost regretfully pulling away. You chuckle a little and stir the pan.

How domestic and loving indeed.

…

Later when the food is ready and served, he returns to the small kitchen dressed in much more casual and comfier robes. Your eyes linger a little on the small expanse of exposed skin at his neck and chest and then stop at the way his long hair is tied up in a bun.

“Not washing your hair today?” You ask casually, taking your seat.

 “I… Perhaps I have gotten rather used you doing it. I simply didn’t feel like it.”

You can’t help the short laugh that escapes you, even as you try to cover it a little. “Is this your way of saying you wanted me to bathe with you?”

His golden eyes twinkle. “I would certainly enjoy indulging in that more often.”

Your cheeks flush and you avert your eyes.

He takes a spoonful of soup and hums, closing his eyes to appreciate the flavors. “The finest ingredients cooked with true expertise. Simply divine, my love, thank you.”

“Flatterer.” You say, a little embarrassed but he can see right thought it, your little grin, the little shift in your posture.

“I am simply stating the truth.” He replies and continues eating. You can see his shoulders relax and the small satisfied smile at the warm food, it makes you a little giddy as you start eating as well.

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

bundling up during winter was obvious, right?

Putting on layers and layers of clothes. And true, perhaps Liyue didn't get as cold as other nations such as Fontaine, Mondstadt or of course Snezhnaya, but maybe it was exactly for that reason the temperature drop seemed to affect everyone all the more. Besides, the people would take any excuse to show off their fancy coats, scarves and other cold-climate outfits.

Zhongli naturally wore many layers, and he did mention once or twice he wasn't as affected by the cold. Yet, his business partner had gifted him a thick snezhnayan cloak.

The thing was entirely ridiculous, too bulky with a fluffy overtop, the colors dark and cool not matching Zhongli at all.

And yet he'd used it! (Only twice... but still)

You were not jealous, not at all.

You just wanted to... give him something he'd also enjoy and wear around, yes. Something personal, something he’d like and look at and remember you.

But what?

Ugh, it’s not like you were really well versed in sewing. Back at home you’d even had some machinery for that, but here in Liyue… you wracked your brain thinking what could you give him. He had quite a few elegant outfits, fitting him perfectly and enhancing all his attributes, all personally tailored by one of his late Yaksha so they held immense sentimental value as well… how could you compete with that?!

Right, right, it was not a competition. You sigh. Zhongli will probably be happy with anything you give him, but still…

An idea pops into your head and you can’t help but chuckle. Oh, it’s so silly… but maybe…

Simple enough, personal, something he’d use during the cold season only around you. Could work, you decided as you pick up your things to go visit the textile shop.

If nothing else, it could at least get a good chuckle out of Zhongli, right?

And so, for a few days you work on your little project. Turns out sewing was indeed a little harder than expected but you were trying your best. The kind lady who’d sold you some excellent wool had also given you some tips and they proved to be most useful indeed!

Regrettably you didn’t exactly have the right measurements so you more or less eyeballed them. Eh. It’ll be fine…

Zhongli almost came close to finding out too, though you were inconspicuous enough. You’re sure he suspects something.

“It will all be worth it, it will all be worth it…” You mumble to yourself with a frown as you finish trimming one of the stitches. Your fingers hurt.

…

“Li! I have something for you!” You exclaim happily, hands behind your back holding the wrapped-up item you had worked so hard on. An excited glow on your smile and bright eyes.

“Oh? Am I going to finally see what you’ve been guarding to secrecy this past week?” He replies coolly with a knowing smile, amusement dancing on his tone as he places his teacup down.

Nothing escapes him.

“Yes” You present him the gift, your hands then fidget nervously, having nothing else to do now. “I hope you like it! It’s… my first time doing something like this… i-it may not be that good, it’s kind of silly but-”

“Darling please do not fret, I would love anything you give me.”

Your shoulders relax.

Zhongli unwraps the paper and finds a rich dark brown fabric staring back at him, he picks the item and opens it, trying to gauge its shape, thick wool, a little rough around the edges but you did mention it was your first try and he is honored enough you’d make such effort for him.

However…

What is it exactly?

He turns the item around trying not to show too much confusion on his face as to insult you or make you feel bad, it looks like… a severely oversized legwarmer?

“It’s…” You start, feeling a little shy and silly once more. “…for your tail.”

Recognition shines in his eyes and he blinks at the item. 

“You- I know you like to let loose a little around the house and let your illuminated beast features show, I love you tail too but I know… the scales get cold easily a-and usually we just bundle up with a blanket but I thought-”

“I love it.”

You stop running your mouth as soon as he utters those words, Zhongli looks at you with a gentle calm and your heart could melt at the sincerity in his expression. “No one had ever made something like this for me.”

He stands and unfurls the item, then, in a flash of gold his dragon tail manifests, majestic as ever and swaying lazily, the tuft of fur at the end flickering with each move. He maneuvers a little to slip the ‘tailwarmer’ on and though it sags a little, much to your relief it at least fits nicely. There is a yellow diamond pattern near the base that you’d started working on but deemed too difficult for a first try. It was a cute little detail though, maybe next time.

“Warm and cozy.” He chuckles and you beam at him, before letting out a squeak as said dragon tail curls around you, pressing your forward against his chest.

“Thank you, my love.” He cups your face and kisses your forehead.

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

The air is hot and heavy as soft moans and grunts fill the room.

Well, this was certainly a way to warm up… and get some good cardio.

You pant and squirm on the plush surface of a heavenly mattress as the familiar weight of the ex-archon descends upon you. His arms going from a golden orange hue to a deep charcoal, lines of gold thrumming across his skin, glowing softly in periodic pulses up strong muscular arms. Golden horns rise from soft brown hair curled at the tips, two on each side like a crown, while a powerful scaly tail wraps around your calf holding your leg up, spread.

This is Rex Lapis. Morax. Any other number of names he had. This is the Geo Archon.

“Zhongliii!” You whine, his hands caressing your body, claws teasing along your skin, pinching a nipple, fangs grazing your collarbone and a long serpentine tongue licking a hot stripe across your neck.

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, already rock hard and burning like a brand, your hips canting for more. For him to finally fill you, to feel his thick overwhelming girth stretch you, breed you… you want to be filled so full it overflows, so that it dribbles down your thighs and ass in thick, slick rivulets of his love.

“Patience my love.”

You whimper and jerk at that, about to cry out for him again when he rolls his hips and sinks in your warm hole. Your breath catches in your throat as your head throws back on the soft feather pillows.

He pushes into you inch by inch, carving a space for himself with a soft rumbling groan. His lips seek yours as his hands slide to your hips and press hard enough to bruise. His kiss devouring, all-consuming with need as he bottoms inside you, hips pressed flush.

Gods you feel so full, stretched and filled every inch and then some, and he doesn’t allow you a moment to pause and adjust either. A beast of a man in the best of ways, he withdraws halfway, only to slam forward in a fluid firm thrust.

“Mng-! Ah!”

“Mine. All mine. S-so warm and thigh- nghh…”

His pace starts slow, his voice alone enough to drive you crazy with how deep, carnal, animalistic it is against your neck. Sharp canines teasing the elegant column of your throat as he moves.

“Oh! so good… Li… f-faster… faster ple-ahhn!” Your voice pitches high as you babble, pleasure coiling on your gut.    

“As- you desire…” Strained words still sounding like the very embodiment of sex, his voice so sinfully deep, so erotic it washes over you like liquid silk, like molten gold, only heightening the sensations of his quickening pace. In and out, in and out, skin slapping on skin. “You’re… you’re so perfect for me-”

You take him so well, your legs spread wide, your back arched, your insides molded to his length, enveloping him in the most mind-blowing of heats. The bed creaking as Zhongli delivers another powerful thrust, hitting a sweet spot deep within you and making you elicit a sharp keening sob of a moan. Your hands scrambling from the sheets to seek purchase at his back, curled up under his arms to scratch viciously trying to hold onto something, anything as he drives into you thrust after thrust after thrust-    

“I’m- I’m gon-ahnn! Z-Zhongli… ooohh!”

Fuck you are close. So, so close…

He nips at the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. “Almost there… little one.” He huffs between strained grunts and you whimper at the pet name. Golden claws sink on the bedsheets, gripping thigh for leverage as he moves faster, frantic, hips like pistons he fucks into you like a wild animal, the bed rocking, shaking with each thrust. “C-close…”

You mewl and moan, unable to form coherent thoughts anymore but just feel the hot burning pleasure, his warm puffs of breath on your skin, your sweating bodies dampening the sheets and you desperately want to feel his warm seed inside you, filled to the brim with his creamy cum.

“Pleasepleaseplease i-in! In-s-ahh!” You come with a sharp cry, vision blurring, muscles clenching, your insides squeezing around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

It was enough, the tipping point for the dragon, his thrusts shallowing out until he ruts as deep as he can and shoots his load inside you with a guttural groan. Thick spurts pumping inside you before it pools out around his own cock, leaking from your body until there’s nothing left to give.  

Everything is hot… so hot… the air heavy and musky with the scent of sex…

…

Zhongli slumps softly atop your body after what feels like ana eternity, his cock still comfortably nestled within your slick walls, cushioned by fluttering muscles. You lay beneath him, sweaty and shivering, breathless, chest raising and falling rapidly in small gasps as you struggle to catch your breath but oh, how you took his away…

 Beautiful, truly… your half-lidded eyes glazed over, barely able to open admits your exhaustion, but still able to whimper soft little moans as he trails fluttering reverent kisses along your neck and collarbone. Soft, chaste, loving and tender touches.

“Ahhn… mmm…” He chuckles softly at the endearing sounds you make as he eases out of you, the subtle friction enough to sent fire to your nerves, followed by a strange emptiness that mellows down to buzzing contentment.

He lies to the side and pulls you close towards his chest, his tail finally letting your now sore leg rest, uncoiling from it to curl around you both, you settle there with a sigh, eyes sliding shut. “So good for me.” Zhongli gently brushes some hair away from your face and places a kiss at the crown of your head, resting his chin there. “Rest now, dear.”

“Mn.”

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

You smile as Zhongli places the two steaming teacups on the table before scooting over and welcoming him with the blanket surrounding you. He settles on the couch with you cuddling close and passing the book on your hands to him. Your fingers brush and he sets the book on his lap before taking your hands on his, cradling them close to his face before blowing a warm breath on them. You blush and let out a little airy laugh.

“What is this? Dragon breath to keep me warm?”

He hums against your skin, piercing golden eyes staring up at you. “No, just my love for you.” He kisses your knuckles and fingers.

“You…” You mumble, averting your gaze.

He chuckles and kisses your wrist then before leaning in close and kissing your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, anywhere he can reach.

“Ngah, wait you affectionate big lizard!” You squirm and he laughs fully now.

“Just seeking my adorable fiancée’s warmth” He nuzzles onto your neck, kissing there too and making you yelp. “Gorgeous.”

“A-Am not!”

“So precious when you get all shy and flustered.” He gets your jaw this time when you move, so close to your lips.

“Stop! You menace…” You pout and this time you cup his face, staring for a moment at his handsome features, your thumb brushing close to one of the red markings under his eyes.

This man. This dragon. This god.

Oh, how you love him. He warms up your heart.

“Here, I’ll warm you up proper…” You whisper softly, pulling him close and tilting your head to slot your lips together.

Just as you warm up his.

[konigsblog]

where kidnapper-könig keeps his stupid mutt :3

[mrsoharaa]

I feel like sparring with Suguru (especially with cult leader! suguru) he would be sooo intimate and mischievously coy with you. Like, it'll be the little fragile finger grazes slipping across your hips, agonizingly slowly. The hot, prodding whispers of encouragement and slight taunt bellowing directly into the depths of your ringing ears. And god, don't even get me started on the way this man swiftly and easily maneuvers manhandles your every abrasive attack, how easily he pins you to the nearest solid object. Hips solidly connected with yours, eyes leering ever so intently and strictly into your own — creates a massive swarm of unwarranted butterflies deep within your fluttering tummy.

[frnchgirls]

warnings: 18+, nsfw, long!!, dubcon, a lot of explicit and implied grossness, poly if you squint, finishing inside, early character death?

you met zombie!patrick during your compound's last looting trip. you and a few other younger, able-bodied members of your settlement went out to a pharmacy in search of medicine, and during the affair, the building was overrun by zombies. every member of the search team was presumably eaten, your best friend tashi and boyfriend art both killed in the frenzy. it devastated you. but you- you were alive; the sole survivor, having made it out with the medicine, no less, all thanks to patrick.

he spared you when he decided to smear your face and clothes with spoiled blood to mask your human scent from the horde, a strategic thought you never would have imagined the undead could even have. you're taken aback when after all is said and done, he seems to revert to a normal zombie state, communicating only with groans and grunts and an incoherent mumble every now and again. you can't lie and say that you're not at least a little afraid. he is a zombie, after all. but he's shown no signs of hostility, or signs of much of anything for that matter. and he did save your life, so why not keep him around?

the two of you are sitting in an abandoned house that's on the route from the pharmacy back to the compound, shoulder to shoulder on the bedroom floor as you crack open a can of fruit cocktail, your dinner for the night. you examine his face as you dig your fork into a syrup-soaked cherry. he's so pale, blue veins like spider webs crawling up from the base of his neck to his hollow cheeks. you can make out the faint remnants of freckles if you squint, and you can't help but wonder what he might have looked like when he was still alive. tan and healthy; handsome, even.

you have to hold your breath as you eat the bits of peach and pear from the aluminum can in your lap. patrick is filthy, and the stench of god knows what emanates off of him, filling the room. his milky, glazed over eyes stay locked on the opposite wall, bruised lips parting ever so slightly when he says, "hun- gry." you immediately swallow the food in your mouth, partly shocked and partly overjoyed at the fact that he was speaking to you; that you could understand him. now that you were thinking about it, it had been a while since he last ate. you couldn't blame him for voicing his needs.

"yeah, pat. i know. we'll find some brains for you as soon as we can. i promise." you reply, chipper tone covering up the fact that you truly have no idea how you'll be able to satiate him without hurting an innocent person. you take another bite of food, thinking of art and tashi, and his head snaps in your direction. "hun- gry." he repeats, practically throwing himself onto you, which in turn knocks the can right out of your hand, spilling the contents all over the carpeted floor. you let out a noise, a mix of a gasp and a groan erupting from the back of your throat all at once.

"that was my last ration, you stupid fuckin'- get off." you complain, using every ounce of your strength to try and shove him off of you, but it's no use. he would overpower you even if he didn't have a supernatural advantage. he paws at your tattered clothes, gripping the fabric with his fingers as he presses his cold lips to your neck. he inhales against the sensitive skin, other hand coming up to tug absentmindedly at a strand of your hair. what on earth is he doing?

"pre- tty." he hums, big nose nudging your pulse point, and your eyes widen as you thrash under his hold. you fail to hear him over the sound of your racing heart. "don't- don't kill me, please. you remember me, right? remember saving me?" you beg, but it's a shot in the dark. he hadn't seemed to understand the words you said before, so why would now be any different? you squeeze your eyes shut as he stands and lifts you to your feet in one fluid motion.

"need... pussy." patrick grumbles, brows furrowed in confusion. the words aren't really his. he knows that when images of you from the past flash in his mind, on your back with your hair splayed over a fluffy pillow. you giggle and blush at something he said- no, not him, someone else who was now a part of him. someone else whose memories were now his own. someone who wanted to fuck you. he wanted to fuck you.

"what?" you squeak, wondering if you heard him correctly. this had to have been some kind of sick dream fueled by your recent lack of sex, because there was no way a zombie wanted to get in your pants. it was unheard of, impossible even. the fuck was wrong with you, having deranged thoughts like this? you would be shunned by the compound if anyone found out what you were about to do. and what about art? you reach around to pinch yourself, but the movement is interrupted when patrick shoves you down onto the bed.

"feel you... now." he continues, jaw clenched as he tugs forcefully at the waistband of your jeans. the seams pop, which allows him to drag the ripped material down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your panties below the waist. "no, no, we can't- this isn't right-" you stammer, squeezing your thighs together and covering yourself with your hands. but patrick pushes them out of the way like it's nothing. his pupils seem to darken when his eyes land on the damp patch at the front of the pink fabric.

"why wet... then?" patrick teases with a fucking smirk, dimples and smile lines on full display. you shudder not only at the sight, but at the feeling of his cold fingers pressing against your clothed heat. there was something so chilling about his words and his mannerisms. they were all too intimate. he didn't feel like a zombie anymore, he felt like a man. "i'm not- it's not-" you lie through your teeth, panicking as you lean down once again to hide the space between your legs from his view.

he unbuttons the front of his jeans, shuffling them down his hairy thighs along with his boxers. you have to physically turn away when his cock springs free from its confines. fuck, it's as thicker than it is long with dark curly hair at the base. blue veins run along the shaft and his tip is as purple as his mouth. you can't do this. as horny and curious as you are, he'll split you apart. "oh- oh my god, patrick- no. no, no, no." you squeal, clamping a hand over your mouth as you clench around nothing.

patrick is unphased, gripping the backs of your thighs and hoisting your legs over his shoulders. "take... it." he groans, pushing past your panties and into your soaked folds. he throws his head back, exposing his pale neck as he bottoms out in you. you let out a guttural moan, the noise muffled by your palm. you could feel every throbbing inch of him, your wetness providing only the slightest amount of lubrication.

your back arches off the bed at the intrusion. it's so strange; the juxtaposition of his freezing hands on your skin and his sweltering cock deep in your cunt. "feel... good?" patrick asks, waiting a moment before pulling out then thrusting in again. you pout, partly because you don't know how to answer, and partly because you can't. it's hard to think about anything else other than the feeling of him dragging along your walls. you resort to an eager nod, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

he smiles, nodding in acknowledgement before leaning over you to get a better angle. patrick folds you even harder into the mating press, your thighs trapped between both of your stomachs. his eyes cloud over again once he's adjusted, jaw slack as he thrusts in and out and in and out. "hun- gry..." he mewls, saliva pooling in his open mouth when his tip brushes against that spongy spot inside you.

patrick fights with himself, unsure where his appetite for your flesh ends and his newfound appetite for your pussy begins. having you milk his cock like this seems to appease him for now, the other voice in his head tells him so. but still, he can't help but feel a little guilty. he wonders how you'd taste, how it would feel to have your viscera sliding down his esophagus when he eats you. drool spills over his bottom lip like a waterfall, dribbling onto the sheets below you.

a few drops land on your cheek when he moves, and you recoil at the sticky feeling on your skin. you can't help but close your eyes, facing a conflict of your own. if you just think about art, it'll be okay, right? it's not wrong to get fucked by a zombie if you imagine it's your late boyfriend while you do it. god, you hope he would forgive you. if only you knew. "look... at me." patrick sputters, and when you do just that, his pupils are dark again. something about it makes you shiver. you've never seen a zombie who could do that before, and his words fill you with a strange sense of deja vu.

patrick wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, speeding up his thrusts as he presses his forehead against yours. the motion has you teetering on the edge, and your fingers reach out to clutch at his hoodie instinctively. he chuckles and questions, "you... close?" which you answer with another nod and a whimper of "yes." he seems to be in the same boat when he tells you, "me too... wanna be good for you. please- let me be useful and... breed this pussy."

you giggle.

your mouth flies open to let out a gasp, patrick's hand reaching down to rub circles against your clit. you know you've heard those words before; you've heard those words from art. there are myths that zombies can absorb thoughts and memories from brains they consume. what did he do? what the fuck did patrick do?

"oh god- you ate my boyfriend. you ate my fuckin' boyfriend! oh- oh fuck-" you sob, tears pricking your eyes as he draws out your orgasm and rides through his own, grunting monotonously while he shoots ropes of cum inside you, coating your walls with his slick. you squirm at the feeling, patrick's actions only further spurring on your tears. but then he lifts a hand to cup your face. "no, no- don't be stupid. it's me. it's your artie." he coos, wiping a stray tear with his thumb.

you blink away the bleariness in your eyes and look at patrick's face, an all too familiar cheshire grin plastered over it. "art?" you whisper, chest still heaving with emotion, and he nods, moving your hand to cup his cheek like you've always done.

how the hell are you gonna explain this to the compound?

[your-local-hollow-lover]

No, but imagine cock warming Grimmjow while he purrs into the crock of your neck, too ashamed to move an inch, too cocky to admit how good it feels, and too disturbed by the intense need to chase the best part of this very human deed.

[purplekissinger]

Hungry heart

Your yandere is the 'hide the zombie bite' type of guy. 

TW: yandere themes, disease themes (if that makes you nervous please proceed with caution. I personally wrote this to cope with fear of zombie virus). Angst at first, wholesome then. Also my english is hrr drr eww.

‘I bet my ass you were bitten,’ you said coldly.

One couldn’t look at Michael without tears. From the very morning he looked… unwell. He clearly had a fever, and a strong one; despite this, he did his best to cheer you up and even tried to make awkward jokes, but when he thought you weren’t looking, he would quickly roll up the sleeve of his sweater and look at his wrist anxiously. His (more so than usual) erratic behavior made it straight up obvious. You put two and two together easily and played along with him for a while, but honestly? All this would be charming if it weren't lethal.

It seemed impossible for Michael to blush any more than he already was, and yet he managed.

‘Biten?! What do you mean?’ his nervous laughter turned into a strained cough, but he immediately pulled himself together. ‘It's because of the flu, right? Y/N, I swear, I’m just a bit under the weather. Yesterday it was terribly cold…’

‘In the middle of July?’ you raised an eyebrow. ‘By the way, since when do you wear sweaters in the summer?’

‘I love this sweater, after all, you gave it to me!’ Michael exclaimed passionately. Well, at least that was true. ‘Our 32nd date, remember?’ he added dreamingly. 

‘Don’t change the subject, Michael, you’re being ridiculous,’ said you tiredly. That was hell of a night, with him, covered in cold sweat, restless and moaning, clinging to you like there's no tomorrow (and there probably wasn't). ‘Please, show me your arm. Just let me see the bite and be over it.’

Michael hid his arm behind the back quickly and forced a smile. He never was a good liar. 

'Y/N, honey, you h-have to believe me,' he choked on his own words with another cough, much stronger this time, and that cough was louder than words. When he could breathe again, you looked straight into his eyes, and whatever he read on your face made him let out a small sob.

“Michael,” you said with an unusual harshness in your voice. If he chose to be a little whiner, you should have taken responsibility for you two. “I'm literally traveling through abandoned cities with my crazy stalker who just won't shut up about how exactly he was obsessing over me before the zombie apocalypse. Is there anything else left that we are hiding from each other?”

He shook his head, unable to speak.

“Was that a yes or no?”

“No,” Michael whispered and, with a gesture full of despair, hid his burning face in his hands. His shoulders shuddered slightly.

You took a small step forward and reached your hand forward as if to comfort him.

“Michael,” you whispered. “Michael, hush, please.”

He peeked at you through his fingers with both horror and hope. You finally placed your hand on his shoulder and gently stroked it.

“Hush, no need to twitch. Unlike someone, I don’t bite,” you smiled weakly. And at that moment he finally lost it and burst into tears in full force. You held him tightly, hugging him with all your strength, feeling his fever rise and knowing that even now you would never leave him. Especially now.

* * *

“I thought you were above the “hiding a zombie bite” trope,” you joked awkwardly as you bandaged Michael’s arm with a clean cloth. At this point it wouldn't help him any more than a bar of chocolate, but at least he'd spend this day as a human being and not as a scared abandoned pet.

“I am, in fact,” he said and gave you a small smile. “Would it be any other group of survivors, I wouldn’t hide it.”

"Oh?!" you poked his shoulder playfully. “Do you particularly hate me or what?”

"No, not at all!" he said quickly. His mood seemed to have changed for the better now. “Not at all, Y/N, really. I... just don't want this to end. I don’t want us to end.”

He definitely needed painkillers. You turned to the cabinet where the medications were kept.

"Explain yourself."

“Everything... Absolutely everything was going so perfectly,” Michael said sadly. “You and I are finally together, alone in the whole world. Everything was as I always dreamed. You have only me, I have only you, no one and nothing can separate us and we will never part. It was heaven. I just didn't want this to end. Not now, not ever. Y/N, I swear, I have never been happier than during the zombie apocalypse.”

“My friend, you're not right in the head,” you rolled your eyes.

He grinned. “Tell me something I don't know. But really, I was utterly happy all this time. Were you?" he looked up at you.

“You can be funny sometimes,” the corner of your mouth twitched.

“Was funny,” he sighed. “I think this is how we should say it now.”

“No, this isn’t,” you said sternly. “Open your mouth now and drink this. That's it, good boy. What if you come back as a friendly zombie?”

Michael laughed in disbelief. “It doesn’t work that way,” he said. “No matter how much I adore you now, I will forget everything very soon. I'll be just as dead as before I met you, only… deader. Although, of course, the thought of eating you has always been tempting...”

“You’re terrible,” you snorted. "No, seriously though. I’m positive that something will remain? You may not be able to learn nuclear physics, but you will remember at least something, and, of course, I will help you with this.”

The meaning of your words did not reach him right away. Then Michael shook his head furiously.

“Y/N, no,” he said pleadingly. “Don't even think about it. It's too dangerous."

"Why not?" you shrugged. If he chose to be a little whiner, all you have left was to save both of you. “We’ll find you a nice collar and gag. Would you prefer it pink or black?”

“This is not a joke,” he protested, and then he realized that you weren’t joking.

…You sat there, hugging each other, thinking about tomorrow with horror, but also with hope.

“Promise me,” Michael whispered. “I don’t care if it’s pink or black, but it should have a “Y/N's Personal Property” tag.’

You kissed his cheek tenderly.

"Promise".

[fluffyluckyvampire]

Somthing gone wrong...

Short, and a warm-up. Not beta read.

TW Mc fucking dies(?) angst writing body horror (idk if this really counts as body horror but better safe than sorry)

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Mc sat slumped against a tree in the devildom forest, limbs starting to elongate, joints popping and twisting into unnatural angles; their skin stretching into something non human When they dared to speak they found that their vocal cords could not be controlled in a way they were used to, barely able to let out whimpers and croaks… MC gave up on trying to get home and their body no longer felt human. They heaved as it got harder and harder for their lungs to function under the pressure they felt in their chest.

None of this was as bad as the pain of slipping away from humanity. Thoughts that felt more like mindless instinct began to invade MC's body like a plague unable to think in their own voice at some point, the most they could do was think through emotion, they desperately tried to keep the memories of their loved ones… soon that faded to only the faces of the demons, angels and human in their life down here in the devildom remained and when those began to fade they tried to at least remember the general shape of each one of them…. 

▪︎▪︎▪︎Meanwhile▪︎▪︎▪︎

Asmodeus had only looked at his hand to make sure his nails were still looking perfect… and out of boredom but suddenly the meeting between the student council members turned into pure chaos as soon as asmo screamed the words “MCs mark is fading!” causing every brother to look at their own marks, which were all indeed fading. A sign something was deeply wrong

[sshewonders]

WARM BODIES

Chapter 03: The Archer

chapter synopsis: While out on your mushroom-picking quest with Glenn, unbeknownst to you, danger lurked just around the corner. Fortunately, a mysterious man with a crossbow intervened, saving you from becoming a geek's dinner. However, he wasn't alone; he had his unsettling brother, who left Glenn visibly shaken, demanding to know where you and Glenn came from. Luckily, you observed that the man with the crossbow was a hunter – precisely what the camp, or more specifically, what you needed.

chapter warnings: This chapter contains strong language, perverted content, tense moments with firearms, mild violence, psychological distress, and a suspenseful atmosphere. Daryl Dixon being hot as hell, but sassy.

word count: 3.2k words

author's note: Hello! I sincerely apologize for the delayed update. I was deeply engrossed in some work, but here we are! Our crossbow-wielding redneck has finally made an entrance! To be honest, I invested significant effort into detailing Daryl's characteristics. I aimed to avoid the cliché of love at first sight, wanting him to align closely with Norman Reedus's portrayal in the first season – somewhat sassy, if you catch my drift. By the way, thank you immensely for the support you're providing; it truly motivates me to write! Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

NEXT CHAPTER >>

You stepped out of your tent, your attire a deviation from your usual style - a thin blue and white striped flannel, complemented by a white tank top. Back in the day, your wardrobe consisted primarily of sweaters, sweatpants, and the occasional leather jacket and pants. But Atlanta's blazing sun left you with little choice.

"Damn, it's hotter than me," you muttered to yourself, reminiscing about the more temperate climate back home, far away from the unrelenting southern heat.

Emerging from your tent, you clutched a red bucket and secured a small hunting knife to your belt, your trusty brown sling bag slung over one shoulder. Shane, ever the vigilant protector, had his shotgun slung casually over the other shoulder as he called out to you.

"Hey, you pickin' mushrooms?" Shane drawled in his annoying voice.

You turned around, squinting at Shane from the intense sunlight. Your eyes, an inherited trait from your father, were sensitive to the bright glare, while your brother boasted your mother's striking blue eyes, which never failed to spark a twinge of envy on you.

"Yeah?" You responded, raising an arm to shield your eyes from the sun.

"Wait for me. I'll come with you."

"No."

Shane, his voice oozing with frustration, barked, "Y/N, for the love of... it ain't safe out there alone!"

Your irritation flared, and you snapped back, "I can handle myself, Shane. I've survived this long without you babysitting me. I don't need your damn help."

Narrowing you eyes at Shane, you made it clear you didn't need his assistance, nor did you particularly relish his company on the excursion.

Shane, not one to back down, flashed a glare. "Y'know this world ain't what it used to be. Better safe than sorry. Besides, can't let ya out there with that little peashooter of a knife."

You sighed, your reluctance clear. "I can handle myself, Shane. I told you."

Before Shane could respond, Glenn, appeared on the scene. "Hey, guys, no need to argue, alright? I'll go with Y/N. Better two pairs of eyes than one, right?"

Glenn, carrying a bucket with just a few mushrooms, happily trotted behind you. He'd successfully convinced you to bring your recurve bow along, and his grin was the picture of contentment. However, you couldn't quite wrap your head around the idea. Why on earth would you need a bow for a mushroom-picking trip? You didn't have the faintest clue about hunting or shooting arrows at moving targets like walkers or animals. Still, you carried it with you, albeit with a puzzled look.

The sound of Glenn humming "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" by the Beatles filled the air as you continued your journey. You suddenly stopped in your tracks and turned to face Glenn, a deadpan expression on your face. You dropped your sling bag to the ground, making a thud that seemed to mirror your exasperation. Glenn's humming came to a halt, and he wore a concerned expression. "What's wrong?" he asked.

You let out a long, dramatic sigh and voiced your confusion about why you were lugging your bow around for mushroom picking. "Tell me again why I had to bring my bow? Honestly, just admit it that bringing the bow was completely useless."

Glenn, ever the optimist, replied, "It's not useless, Y/N." Your raised eyebrow silently demanded an explanation, so he continued, grinning all the while. "I've noticed that when you're carrying that bow, you become way more focused and aware of your surroundings. It's like the bow is giving you some kind of 'hunter's power' you haven't fully unlocked yet."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Glenn's explanation. "You're probably making that up, Glenn," you scoffed, though a part of her wondered if there might be a grain of truth in his words.

Glenn, undeterred by your skepticism, persisted with a good-natured grin. "I'm serious. I've seen it. You might not be a hunter yet, but it's like your instincts kick in when you have that bow. Trust me, it's not just for show."

You shot him a half-smile, still not entirely convinced. "Well, it'd be nice to unlock some super-secret bow skills," you quipped. "But for now, it's just extra weight I'm carrying around."

Glenn chuckled, picking up his bucket of mushrooms and you continued on your quest. "Hey, you never know. Maybe one day that bow will save our lives."

You smirked playfully, nudging Glenn's shoulder with your elbow. "Alright, I'll keep it handy. Just in case we come across any killer mushrooms out here."

You both continued the walk through the woods until your sharp eyes spotted a cluster of mushrooms nestled beside a decaying wooden log. Eager to add to your collection, you both knelt down to start plucking the mushrooms. Glenn questioned, "Hey, are these mushrooms safe to eat?"

You fingers gently inspecting the mushrooms as you gathered them, offered a reassuring smile. "Yeah, these are the same kind my father and I used for stew that one time when we went camping. It's a good thing my brother didn't come along with us; he managed to sprain his ankle, being a bit of a dumbass."

As Glenn continued to gather mushrooms, he looked over at you, curiosity in his eyes. "Hey," he began, "tell me about your life before all this craziness."

You scoffed playfully and replied, "My life doesn't have much to tell, Glenn."

Glenn persisted, "Well, I told you about my background, so why not share yours with me?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "First of all, you told me your background because you were bored and couldn't keep your mouth shut, and you're a bad liar," you teased. "And second, my life was pretty ordinary. Just Y/N Grimes, nothing special."

Glenn pouted and playfully begged, "Come on, there's gotta be something interesting about it."

You deeply sighed, and then shared your family history, revealing that your older brother played a significant role in your upbringing. Raised by your nurse mother and town sheriff father, you and your brother spent much of your childhood playing outdoors. Despite your parents' busy schedules, they ensured you both were well-cared for. Your brother, your constant companion, played a pivotal role until he went to college when you were seven. Your mom occasionally took you to the hospital where you befriended the staff, while your dad, a sheriff, introduced you to art at the police station. You developed a love for bows at nine, excelling in archery and winning awards in competitions, choosing it over baseball.

Curiosity getting the best of him, Glenn asked you, "Hey, why haven't you mentioned your brother's name to anyone? Same goes for Lori, she's never mentioned her husband's name, and Carl hasn't talked about his dad's name either."

You bit your bottom lip, a hint of sadness in your eyes, and shrugged. "I guess I just don't feel right saying his name, especially now that he's... well, probably not around anymore. Lori and Carl might feel the same way." You let out a soft sigh.

With the bucket nearly full of mushrooms, Glenn flashed you a soft smile. "You know, if it weren't for you, I'd probably be a geek's dinner that time, dehydrated and all."

You returned his smile, your expression equally warm. "Don't mention it, Glenn. I just did what was right."

You and Glenn strolled through the forest, your footsteps barely making a sound on the soft, damp ground. Glenn held the bucket of freshly picked mushrooms, while you carried your recurve bow.

The forest enveloped you both in its tranquil beauty, the trees rising tall and proud, their branches creating a canopy that filtered the fading daylight. The deep blue sky was speckled with hints of orange as the sun began its descent. You admired the interplay of shadows and light as you followed Glenn's lead.

Glenn's hiss drew your gaze, your voice tinged with concern. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Glenn replied hastily, a touch of urgency in his voice. "I need to pee. Just need a minute."

With that, he disappeared behind the tree, leaving you to quip under your breath, "Well, I guess even the apocalypse doesn't stop Mother Nature's demands."

You rolled you eyes in response and settled down on a sturdy log. With the forest's canopy above you, you gazed up at the sky, marveling at the delicate dance of leaves and branches against the deepening blue backdrop. Evening was approaching more swiftly than you had anticipated.

Setting your recurve bow against the log, you picked up the bucket and inspected your mushroom haul. A tinge of disappointment washed over you as you realized you both had collected only a handful of the edible fungi. It wouldn't be sufficient to feed the entire camp.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself, a longing for something more substantial like venison crossing your mind. If only you possessed the skill to hunt with your recurve bow, you fantasized, you could be inside your tent savoring a venison barbecue.

Then, something in your guts told you that something was wrong.

As you cautiously held your recurve bow, an arrow ready to be nocked, she heard the distinct sound of a gun being cocked, followed by a muffled whimper. Your senses went on high alert, and you pinpointed the source of the noise, noticing the whimper was stifled, likely by the hand of someone nearby.

You moved carefully, your gaze scanning your surroundings but finding nothing out of the ordinary. An eerie silence hung in the air. "Glenn," you called, concern lacing your voice, but received no response. You inched closer to the large tree behind which Glenn had disappeared, still hearing no movement.

Growing more uneasy, you called out Glenn's name again, you tone pleading as you asked him to stop playing this prank. "Glenn, this isn't funny! Come on, where are you?"

But then, it hit you: Glenn didn't carry a gun. The dread intensified, and you readied your recurve bow, albeit knowing you couldn't fire an arrow with precision if the target was moving.

Your heart raced with worry as the thought of something terrible happening to Glenn crossed your mind. Your concern grew so intense that you failed to notice the approach of a geek that crept up behind you. Only the sound of a low growl snapped your attention back to the present. You spun around, panic in your eyes, and found yourself face to face with a ravenous-looking geek.

A startled yelp escaped your lips as your mind raced, and then, as if fate intervened, an arrow sliced through the air, embedding itself deep in the geek's skull. Before you could process the rescue, another rustling of leaves drew your focus. You immediately nocked an arrow and aimed at the source.

Your heart pounded as you locked eyes with a man, an unmistakably living one. He held a crossbow, which was aimed directly at you. In response, you pointed your recurve bow at him, the tension was palpable. He was dressed in tattered, sleeveless attire and jeans, his skin marked by dirt and blood. But what caught your attention the most were his piercing blue eyes, narrowed and locked onto you with a mix of curiosity and caution.

A taller, older man in equally as dirty clothes wielding a handgun emerged behind the tree, covering poor and shaking Glenn's mouth.

You swiftly shifted your recurve bow, your eyes blazing with anger, from pointing at the archer with the crossbow to the man who had kidnapped Glenn. You glared at him, you frustration and anger palpable in the intensity of your gaze.

The man had a smile that made you uneasy. He looked at you up and down lasciviously whilst licking his thin, dried lips. The man spoke with a sly grin. "Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes. A pretty little thing out here in the woods."

You maintained a guarded silence, apprehensive that opening your mouth might escalate into something more ominous. The tension hung in the air, as you weighed the consequences of uttering a word.

"Well, sweetheart, the name's Merle. Me and my baby brother are just fellas tryin' to survive in this world gone to hell. What 'bout you? Out here all alone?" Merle asked.

Fear coursed through you as Merle introduced himself and pressed the handgun against Glenn's temple. Glenn whimpered and cried, and you, your hands trembling, kept your recurve bow at the ready.

Merle, his eyes never leaving you, spoke in a low, threatening tone. "Put the damn bow down, girl, or I won't think twice about puttin' a bullet in his brainpan. You ought to be polite to man holding a gun."

You reluctantly lowered you recurve bow to the ground. Glenn, still shaking, looked at you with pleading eyes. "I'm so, sorry..."

Your heart ached for your friend, but your focus remained on Merle, who had a dangerous glint in his eye. You couldn't help but wonder about the other archer lurking behind you.

Merle suddenly released Glenn, and the younger man rushed to your side, positioning himself behind you as a shield. Merle's laughter filled the air as he walked over to where Daryl stood, still pointing his crossbow at you.

You anger seething beneath your usual shyness as you shot a defiant glare at the two men. In ths tense moment, you may not have felt adorable, but your determination was unmistakable.

Merle's rough voice cut through the tension, "Where y'all come from? What you doin' in these woods?"

You shot back with a determined but cautious glare, refusing to answer. Your silence spoke louder than any words.

Merle's eyes locked onto the bucket of mushrooms you were carrying, and he leaned in, inquiring, "Are you just out here gatherin' stuff?"

Daryl, however, didn't lower his crossbow. Merle wondered if that was the reason you weren't answering his question. He couldn't contain his frustration and yelled at Daryl, "Lower your damn crossbow, little brother!"

Daryl, a bit wary, lowered his crossbow, his gaze lingering at you with an unreadable expression. Merle, however, let out another wild laugh and inquired, "Y'all got a camp or somethin'?"

Glenn was about to respond, but you cut him off with a curt, "Fuck off."

Merle's temper flared, and he pointed his gun directly at you, the barrel aimed at your forehead. You didn't even flinch, your gaze steady and defiant.

Your fiery glare remained locked on Merle, who continued to cackle manically. It was evident he might have been high. Even with the tension, you couldn't help but sense Daryl's gaze on you, so you turned to him, your expression less fierce. Your careful appraisal seemed to make him uneasy as he shifted his focus and tightened his grip on his crossbow.

Your eyes then took notice of the lifeless squirrels hanging from his body. He held his crossbow with a hunter's grace, a professional stance that didn't escape your observation. It all clicked for you now – these two strangers in the woods, Daryl and Merle, were hunters, or at least one of them was. It was evident that Daryl was the skilled one.

A myriad of questions flooded your mind. Would they prove valuable additions to the group at the quarry, or would they bring nothing but trouble? They were, after all, just strangers, weren't they? However, you decided that you needed to find out for herself. The prospect of gaining skilled hunters and learning new survival skills was too tempting to ignore, even if it meant taking a risk.

However, before you could say something, Glenn, positioned behind you, leaned in and whispered his concern. "I know what you're thinking, don't do it. This feels like a bad idea. I've got a bad feeling about it."

You turned to Glenn, reassuring him, "Trust me. We need their skills and help."

You then turned to the two strangers, Merle and Daryl, and sighed heavily. "Listen, if we take you back to our camp, will you agree to one thing? To help us get food? No one in the camp knows how to hunt."

Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Can't ya teach yourselves? I ain't a damn teacher," he said. "Ya got a bow, why don't ya teach yourself, huh?" He then spat at you.

Although somewhat hurt by his words, you glared at him. "Listen, Robinhood," you began, "Last time I had a bullseye was with target practice, not a growling, flesh-hungry, walking dead."

Daryl retorted with a scowl, "Maybe if ya spent less time jawin' and more time learnin', you wouldn't be dependin' on others to keep ya fed, woman."

You scowled at him, saying, "Relax, dude. It's only been a week since the world ended. It's not as if the world gave me a heads up or warned me about the geeks and how to deal with them."

Daryl shot back with frustration, "Well, ain't that just peachy? Should've figured, talkin' to someone who thinks the end of the world is an excuse for ignorance."

Before you could reply or even deliver a hard slap, Merle intervened, placing his hands between you and Daryl, attempting to calm you both down. However, you knew it wouldn't be of much help.

"Calm down now, baby brother. It ain't the right way to talk to a pretty lady," Merle drawled with a sly smirk, then drawled his gaze over you, "Especially a lady like this, bambi," he drawled, licking his lips.

It was awful; it made you feel small and somewhat frightened under his perverted gaze. Unbeknownst to you, however, Daryl noticed the slight shaking of your hands.

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl spat at his brother, then turned to you, drawling, "Just bring us to your camp, and then we'll talk about a deal."

However, as expected, Merle couldn't resist injecting his usual dose of crudeness. Leering at you, he remarked, "Well, hope you don't mind a bit of dirt, sweetheart."

Displaying a sense of decency, Daryl quickly intervened with a stern expression and a firm command, "I said, shut up, Merle!"

"Shut up yourself ---"

Then, Glenn interfered, cutting Merle off. He positioned himself in front of you, puffing his chest out, though his hands were both shaking. "If you say another perverted thing to her, trust me, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

[makethiscanon]

Okay, hear me out:

Romantic, non-sexual bath cuddles.

[froggywritesstuff]

character list

the title is self explanatory. this is a list of the characters i'll write for. it'll probably change over time, and if you see a character you'd like but don't see them on the list, just ask cause i might've forgotten about them

Hamilton

Eliza Schuyler

Angelica Schuyler

Peggy Schuyler

Maria Reynolds

Alexander Hamilton

John Laurens

Philip Hamilton

Lafayette

Hercules Mulligan

James Madison

Thomas Jefferson

Aaron Burr

Umbrella Academy

Viktor Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Allison Hargreeves

Luther Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves (Umbrella or Sparrow)

Sloane Hargreeves

Jayme Hargreeves

Stranger Things

Will Byers (non female readers only)

Mike Wheeler

Lucas Sinclair

Dustin Henderson

Eleven Hopper

Max Mayfield

Robin Buckley (non male readers only)

Nancy Wheeler

Jonathan Byers

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

21 Chump Street

Justin Laboy

The Goldfinch

Boris Pavlikovsky

Theodore Decker

Marvel

Peter Parker (any actor)

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Makkari

Sersi

Sprite (platonic only)

Steven Grant

Marc Spector

Layla El-Faouly

America Chavez (non male readers only)

Kate Bishop

Yelena Belova (platonic only)

Shuri

Namor

Riri Williams

X-Men

Mystique

Kitty Pryde

Peter Maximoff

Rogue

Logan Howlette

Wade Wilson/Deadpool

Scott Summers

In The Heights (movie version)

Usnavi de la Vega

Vanessa 

Nina Rosario

Benny

Sonny de la Vega 

Heathers

Veronica Sawyer

JD (Jason Dean)

Heather Chandler

Heather McNamara

Heather Duke

John Doe

John Doe

Ride The Cyclone

Noel Gruber (male or nb readers only)

Ocean O'Connel Rosenburg

Mischa Bachinski

Constance Blackwood

Ricky Potts

Hatchetfieldverse

Paul Matthews

Emma Perkins

Ted Spankoffski

Bill Woodard

Ruth Fleming

Pete Spankoffski

Richie Lipschitz

Max Jagerman

Grace Chasity

Lex Foster

Ethan Green

Hannah Foster (platonic only)

Heartstopper

Charlie Spring (non female readers only)

Nick Nelson

Tara Jones (non male readers only)

Darcy Olsson (non male readers readers only)

Elle Argent

Tao Xu (non male readers only(headcanoning him as bi or pan is disrespectful and transphobic))

Tori Spring

Imogen Heaney

Isaac Henderson (platonic only)

Do Revenge

Eleanor Levetan (non male readers only)

Drea Torres

Wednesday

Wednesday Addams

Enid Sinclair

Bianca Barclay

Xavier Thorpe

Ajax Petropolus

Eugene Otinger

(young) Morticia Addams

(young) Gomez Addams

Beetlejuice

Lydia Deetz

Tomorrow When The War Began

Ellie Linton

Lee Takkam

Fiona Maxwell

Homer Yannos

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse/Across the Spider-Verse

Miles Morales

Gwen Stacy

Pavitr Prabhakar

Hobie Brown

Margo Kess

Miles G Morales (earth 42)

Miguel O’Hara

Maze Runner

Thomas

Newt (non female readers only)

The Broken Hearts Gallery

Lucy Gulliver

Nadine (non male readers only)

Nick Danielson

Treasure Planet

Jim Hawkins

Enola Holmes

Enola Holmes

Lord Tewkesbury

Turning Red

Mei Mei

Miriam

Abby

Priya

Raising Dion

Nicole Warren

Tevin Wakefield

Dion Warren (platonic only)

Julie and the Phantoms

Julie Molina

Luke Patterson

Reggie Peters

Alex Mercer (non female readers only)

Flynn

Carrie

Abbott Elementary

Janine Teagues

Jacob Hill (non female readers only)

Gregory Eddie

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Jake Peralta

Amy Santiago

Rosa Diaz

Love Victor

Victor Salazar (non female readers only)

Benji (non female readers only)

Felix Weston

Pilar Salazar

Lake Meriwether

Lucy

Mia Brooks

Andrew

In Treatment

Eladio

Laila

Spree

Kurt Kunkle

Once Upon a Time

Emma Swan

Regina Mills

Killian Jones

Mary Margaret Blanchard

David Nolan

Henry Mills

Mulan (non male readers only)

Graham

Neal Cassidy

Peter Pan

Jefferson

Dash and Lily

Dash

Lily

Boomer

Juno

Juno MacGuff

Paulie Bleeker

Summer Days Summer Nights

Debbie Espinoza

Frankie Espinoza

Scream (1 through 6)

Sidney Prescott

Billy Loomis

Mickey Altieri

Roman Bridger

Jill Roberts

Charlie Walker

Sam Carpenter

Tara Carpenter

Amber Freeman

Chad Meeks-Martin

Mindy Meeks-Martin

Quinn Bailey

Venom

Eddie Brock

Honest Thief

Ramon Hall

Beth Hall

Wild Child

Poppy Moore

Kate

Drippy

Freddie Kingsley

Monsters and Men

Manny Ortega

Marisol Ortega

Ghostbusters: Afterlife

Trevor Spengler

Phoebe Spengler (platonic only)

Error 143

Micah Yujin

Community

Abed Nadir

Troy Barnes

Annie Edison

Jeff Winger

Britta Perry

The Obession

Logan

Delilah

The New Girl

Lia Setiawan

Stacey Hoffman

Mythic Quest

Poppy Li

Brad Bakshi

Adventure Time

Finn

Princess Bubblegum

Marceline

Marshall Lee

Prince Bubblegum

Flame Princess

School Spirits

Madison

Simon

Charley (non female readers only)

Wally

Rhonda

Dungeons and Dragons: Honour Among Thieves

Simon Aumar

Disventure Camp

Aiden (non fem readers only)

James (non fem readers only)

Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies

Jane Facciano

Olivia Valdovinos

Nancy Nakagawa

Cynthia Zdunowski

Richie Valdovinos

Ted Lasso

Ted Lasso

Roy Kent

Jamie Tartt

Keeley Jones

Sam Obisanya

Transformers: Rise of the Beasts

Noah Diaz

Elena Wallace

Mirage

Helluva Boss

Blitzø

Stolas (non female readers only)

Loona

Millie

Moxxie

Octavia

Verosika Mayday

Fizzarolli

Asmodeus

Hazbin Hotel

Charlie Morningstar

Vaggie (non male readers only)

Angel Dust (non female readers only)

Husk

Alastor (platonic only)

Vox

Lucifer

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (rise + mutant mayhem + tmnt 2007 + tmnt 2012)

Donnie

Mikey

Raph

Leo

April

The After Party

Yasper Lennov

Space Force

Tony Scarapiducci

Renfield

Teddy Lobo

Robert Montague Renfield

Undercovers

Bill Hoyt

Amazing Digital Circus

Jax

Parks and Recreation

Leslie Knope

Ben Wyatt

April Ludgate

Andy Dwyer

Jean-Ralphio Saperstein

Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja

Randy Cunningham (18+ people DNI unless requesting platonic stories)

The Earliest Show

Josh Bath

House of Lies

Clyde Oberholt

Mean Girls (movie + musical + movie musical)

Cady Heron

Regina George

Gretchen Wieners

Karen Smith/Shetty

Janis Ian/Sarkisian/Imi'ike (non male readers only)

Damian Hubbard (non female readers only)

Warm Bodies

R

Peep World

Nathan Meyerwitz

Your Boyfriend

Peter Dunbar

Invincible

Mark Grayson

Shapesmith

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Sabrina Spellman

Harvey Kinkle

Nick Scratch

Rosalind Walker

Theo Putnam

Prudence Blackwood

Ambrose Spellman

High School Musical: the Musical the Series

Gina Porter

[mrsoharaa]

<<< men who needily一 desperately crawls up toward you on your bed. Hands prepping onto the base of your calves, gradually gliding up as they slowly make their way up closer towards you. Bright, urgent eyes never leaving yours while doing so. The sheer, pretty burning look flourishing in their polished, dilated irises. Practically anxiously begging to have more of you with just a dire, pleading gaze.

[collectivecloseness]

Warm Bodies AU

Eddie Munson x reader

Chapter 1

[notes: R!Eddie. Julie!reader. Dad/leader!Hopper. (Hopper!Reader.) This chapter’s a bit of a longer one, bc there’s worldbuilding before meeting! Tw for this chapter: Zombies, guns, blood, flesh/brain eating (not super graphic), briefly dating j*son (for the plot)]

God, life sucks.

Well, Eddie guessed it wasn’t much of a life anymore. He was dead, he knew that, or rather, part of the undead. That’s who he lived with too. If you could really call it living in any number of ways.

Eddie lived in an airport with hundreds, likely thousands, of other zombies, God it made it sound like he was living in some Romero flick. But this was reality now. He knew it was true, he was surrounded by hundreds of actual, undeniable, flesh eating zombies. Eddie was one himself.

Not that he’d cared, or even had the brain energy to count how many zombies there were around. He knew there were a lot in just this place, but Eddie still felt alone. He just wanted to connect with people. Why was that so hard? Maybe it was to do with the fact he could hardly communicate. He was sure his thinking was normal, but he never had the fuel or care to get out more than a few words, barely stringing a sentence together.

And he was probably the most well spoken, among zombies he actually communicated with. Most just moaned and groaned. His best friends responded with words, but Eddie thought he was a bit different, his sentences a little more... he couldn’t say passionate, really, but put together.

He was sure he would have had so many people he connected with when he was alive. Maybe he would’ve even been popular. Someone with lots of friends and a big family, someone who had someone always just as bubbly as him constantly around, who always had company. If the darkening sparks in his unbeating heart, and the few synapses that still fired neurons around, were anything to go off.

He did remember a dad though. It was one of the few other zombies he did ‘speak’ to, that he cohabitated this airport with. He barely had memories anymore, but he was sure Wayne was his father in life. He wasn’t exactly sure why his name was ‘Wayne’ in his head, rather than ‘dad’, but the energy to care fizzled away, when he at least had someone to sit by and feel like he was with.

There were a couple of zombies who stood out to Eddie. He had two other friends, who’d barely managed to stumble out their names of ‘Gareth’ and ‘Jeff’ when he first met them, although Eddie had no idea when that was. Eddie wished they could all just... do something, something together as friends. But those two were always happy, if you could use the word, to simply shamble about, so Eddie didn’t protest.

A couple of others stuck out to him. Three kids, boys, who always stuck together, that Eddie seemed to find himself watching longer than other strangers here, when they passed. The kids watched him too, with their duller eyes. The one with curly hair who was always wearing a cap, was the one who Eddie spotted immediately whenever the three briefly passed by him, on every creatures never ending loop throughout this airport.

There was one place, Eddie could call his own in this area. A home. An airplane, that Eddie never let anyone else inside. His Wayne had been allowed to see the outside, shuffled fowards by Eddie who could almost even come across as eager to show it off, like a child with a cool toy. Although there were no memories of that, more so the feeling of nearly having pride, twitching some part of his brain that that was what that experience was akin to. He’d let his Wayne touch the outside of the plane, having let Gareth and Jeff do so too, and even once, when the three boys found their way there, Eddie had let them explore the outside.

Anyone else, near Eddie’s plane, had been shrieked and bitten at and attacked, if they’d tried to come inside. None of the others like him cared enough to fight over it, so it was usually fine. They all just stumbled about the runway, uncaring towards anything like an object, such as a plane, because they didn’t care about anything at all. Except food.

It was another reason Eddie knew he was different, because not only did he, somewhat, care about his plane, but also the things inside. Eddie knew he was a kleptomaniac, but in this world, that shit didn’t exactly matter. Anything pretty that caught Eddie’s eye, made him tilt his head in an almost feeling, almost remembering way, he had to bring it home and keep safe. He stuffed it inside his pockets, and took it to his plane, to keep on display. Not just to be looked at, but to be used for it’s purpose. To be held over and over. To be touched, and explored, and cherished.

His Wayne, once, had picked up a very pointy funny shaped dice, that his hand had accidentally fallen on, and Eddie, who was sitting beside him at the time, had nearly had his eyes shine. A long whimpering groan came out of his throat as his Wayne briefly ‘studied’ the item, but even without hearing Eddie’s noise, he would’ve passed the item over to the man beside him anyways.

Eddie had never really been ‘gifted’ anything. The others wouldn’t care enough to pick up an object, to even see most as ‘special’ like Eddie did, and then remember to carry them around, carefully, to seek out Eddie and pass it to him. Zombies didn’t seem to put that much thought, or effort into things. But whenever Eddie had been next to his Wayne, in the few times his Wayne had found something in his hand, he had passed it to Eddie. So Eddie kept all of them, even if they weren’t items he usually would have swiped, because Eddie knew he yearned for humanity.

He wasn’t sure if the others did, or maybe they just couldn’t communicate it. Although Eddie was the only one of him he’d seen, who had special objects and tried to communicate more, to put himself out there. He remembered raising his arm, to wave at somebody once, but they kept standing on their escalator, not even keeping their head where they could look at him.

Certainly his friends maybe more than others might have some semblance of wanting the same, if he had to stretch an estimate, with what he had to compare to, but Eddie knew he was different. He... he liked, these things. He wished he could properly care for them, but they made him nearly feel something, even if it was a ghost of a memeory versus an emotion, but in this never ending loop, it was enough.

At least he wasn’t like the boney’s. No, they were the undead like him, but who had completely given up. Eddie shambled past a solemn and depressed looking woman, who seemed even more dead than he and the others were. On the inside, Eddie grimaced and groaned at her to stop stop stop eww, as she idly ripped and ripped a chunk of flesh away from her chin. Eddie thought of picking at spots, something the undead didn’t really have, so it must’ve been some form of memory. And he watched as her skin peeled and split into a girthier strip of flesh, until eventually it broke away at the top of her nose, leaving the left side of her chin and upper lips, with nothing but dark grey bone.

This was what the boney’s were. Skeletons only. Creatures who had completely given up on their un-life, and wasted away, until whatever ‘humanity’ they must have still had, like Eddie and his friends did, was completely extinguished.

These creatures would rip apart anything with a heartbeat. Even Eddie and the others stayed away from boney’s.

Of course Eddie would be a little hypocritical branding them monsters. They were, but so was Eddie. So was his Wayne, and his friends, the three kids he saw, and every single zombie in this world. They had to eat the living to survive. It was just nature. Eddie felt a sharp, twisting pain in his stomach, as he reflected on his monstrous side, leaning against the bar table where his best friends Gareth and Jeff were sitting together.

He didn’t want to hurt people. He really didn’t, he didn’t think he would have wanted that when he was alive. So why, now he was this, should he, Eddie, be any different?

Besides, humans tried to shoot at him all the time. Not only shoot, but use fire, axes, one woman even sent a sharped board sign at his chest once, Eddie thought he could remember not eating her brains, but he wasn’t sure. They tried to kill him, and his others. And, yeah, he knew they also tried to kill them too, but it really was kill or be killed. Of course Eddie would get a little cranky if he was already hangry, and someone tried to blow up him and his ‘friends’! Back when he was alive... well, maybe he still wouldn’t have killed those who tried to hurt him, or those he cared about back then, he supposed, but he was sure it was human nature to fight back. He understood why both sides did what they did. He was just obviously going to fight on his own team.

If he only ate their flesh, his... his victim, although he hated the word, he didn’t think highly or deludedly of himself enough to decribe his feats any other way - if he only ate their flesh, then a victim would become like him, a member of the undead. But their brains were the best part...

Without their brains, they’re fully dead. Not undead, not a boney, just gone. And in some way, Eddie could almost feel thankful he, his Wayne, and the others he thought of had had their brains spared. Even if you could hardly call this a life, not one you should be grateful for anyways. But the brains were the most filling part, the tastiest, the only thing that satiated his undead nature.

However there was one downside to eating the brains. You gained your victims memories. Their thoughts and feelings for those whiles too, while he ate. Eddie hated that part. He was sure he’d feel regret, guilt, if he was human. If the fullness of brains did not appease his appetite so well. He did wonder if others felt that way, after living through their victims eyes for a while. But Eddie never found the words, or the strive, to ask.

Instead he nudged Gareth’s shoulder with his arm, the two boys at the bar slowly groaning as they turned to look up at the curly haired boy.

“H-Hungry.” Eddie stuttered out, groaning roughly as if to show it. The three boys all grunted at the same time, rhythmically. About as close as an interpersonal connection they could get, except for maybe whatever their internal monologues thought. Eddie still had no clue if they thought as much as his brain seemed to.

Gareth eventually spoke up, him and Jeff barely managing to hit each other in agreement. “City.” The three boys nodded in agreement, as Jeff, then Gareth, slowly stood.

Zombies nearly always travelled in packs, as it was safer that way. Eddie lead the front with the other two boys, with about four more undead behind him. He didn’t see his Wayne, but he’d seen flesh dangling from his teeth yesterday morning, so Eddie wasn’t moved to stray from the pack.

Eddie did like being alone in his plane, but when it came to hunting, you almost always travelled as a group.

In the couple of years since the world changed, you hadn’t much.

Sure you’d had to grow a bit tougher. You didn’t have the life you thought you would when you were five years old. But you were lucky, in a way. You still felt like you were you.

Since the outbreak, your dad had gone from Sheriff Hopper, to the leader of your community. Your town, bordered by a massive wall that had been built in the years, was made of scrap and junk that no zombies could get through. You were lucky to still have your dad, even if he’d gotten gruffer than you remembered him being before everything happened. You even still had your friends, this side of Hawkins being fortunate enough to not have many infected during the start of the cataclysm, so you all had time to create enough of a barrier, to begin making your new society.

Robin, Nancy and Steve had been your childhood best friends, and you four were still a very close group. But you’d only met your now boyfriend, Jason, in high school. You never felt as close with Jason as you did with your friends, but you supposed that was to do with the life long bonds you guys already had. Jason was nice enough anyways. A gentleman, respectful, he was the first person to ever tell you he loved you. And you did too. You thought. According to one conversation with Steve, you apparently felt nowhere near what he had for Nancy, when those two used to date. But maybe you were just differnet than him. Your dad didn’t seem to mind Jason either. He didn’t particularly like anyone, of course barring you, and your three friends he’d watched grow up since babies. But he thought Jason was okay. Especially since Jason’s dad turned.

You showed Jason your route for escaping the confines of your walls, that Steve and Nancy had stumbled upon half a year prior. You five all knew of a weak part of the wall, that lead straight into a corridor in a damaged building that had once been part of your towns high school. It was a bit stupid to have an easily accessible exit next to a bunch of sneaky high schoolers anyway, with almost all of the other buildings of the school being right next to this wall. The nails weren’t even attached to the fellow sheet of tin. It was like having a key in a door that wasn’t twisted. You could pull away one sheet of aluminium, the nails all poking out, and they’d slot neatly back into place of the tin when you closed it.

That building of the highschool, adorned with posters in different languages so you could guess its old use, lead straight into a football field. That’s where you five all snuck off to in private.

And that’s how you and Jason escaped one day, only to find his dad and his team of scouts coming back from their mission. With empty bags, dead eyes, and stumbling with bite marks all over their bodies...

You’d always appreciate Jason for doing the right thing, even though you had no idea how hard it could’ve been. Watching him shoot his own father, to save both yours and his life, while the reanimated corpse of his dad lunged for his 18 year old sons throat, it had been hell. You couldn’t imagine what it was like for him.

You couldn’t ever imagine having to do the same with your dad...

Your dad hadn’t even asked how you two had gotten outside to see his father and the group, and you were thankful for that. Although you were sure he just forgot, in his efforts of aiding mourning families. Because your dad would never let you have an inch of freedom if he thought it was stupid and risky. He’d have boarded that wall up, and grounded you, and your friends, for a year. Instead, the hidden entry lay unused, too haunted for you, Jason, or your three friends, to purpose again.

You tried to help Jason, tried to be there for him. But things were never the same.

Jason had changed since then. He’d become angry and stoney, a bit like your dad. Versus someone who’d help you find hidden schnapps and beers to share with your friends, and would pull you into cars for late night make out sessions. You did understand his change. Jason wasn’t the... bubbliest, of individuals before his father. He never seemed quite as nice as your friends, but he wasn’t bad. Not at all. But since the incident with his dad, he’d been itching for his first official mission out there.

And while you and your friends weren’t eager, you, at least, were glad to finally be able to help. Beyond learning in school and running small errands, and staying out of trouble, which was what your dad asked most.

You knew Robin was probably the most worried, Steve and Nancy hid it better, but you’d all told Robin it was good to be nervous. That meant she was cautious. She’d be prepared. But all four of you were ready to go outside together, the first time you’d have seen the rest of Hawkins beyond its wall for a couple of years. You four- no, you five, Jason was a part of your circle now, you weren’t sure why you always had to remind yourself of it. You five, and four from the older groups, who had explored before, were setting out. Even those four though were only a few years older. Not much experienced themselves.

Although on the day of, Robin and Steve had been called to help with a semi-emergency. Something technical had occurred in the water mill that powered your ‘town’, and as a couple of close by workers panicked at the sudden explosion of streetlights above them - you swore your dad would jail people for panicking if he could - they’d accidentally released the horse’s stable doors. Robin and Steve had been singled out quickly by a guard, asked to go round the horses up while other adults who were at a much higher level of importance than you guys, sorted out the generator.

Steve had worried you’d be two short, wanting to come help, and Robin had slightly complained about not being able to all leave for the first time as a group, like you’d always planned. But you and Nancy assured them you’d all be fine, go catch the horses. You two both shared a giggle as they ran after the same horse, barrelling easily past them, but Jason had just exasperatedly sighed after them, marching closer to your side now Robin had gone. “We don’t even need them. We’ve trained for a year for this. I can protect you both with my bear hands.”

Jason hardly ever joked anymore, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t obnoxious. Showing off his gun that he was holding wrong. You moved his finger off of the trigger, considering his safety wasn’t on and you were walking down the street of the commune, before dropping your hand off of his. Instead turning to your remaining best friend, and slipping your opposite hand into Nancy’s.

She raised her shoulders with a smile at you, her confidence either real, or being as good an act as your own, as you three, and four extra, walked towards the massive gates your dad had sworn you away from every single day you’d lived here. You kept hold of Nancy’s hand, your other on the strap containing your rifle, as your dad got closer. You wished he’d at least give you a smile, a reassuring word or two to you for your first mission. But he did give a nod. And he did look at you as he started his speech.

“Thank you all for being here today.” Hopper started, still only looking into your eyes, as he addressed everyone. “I want to thank you all for your courage, especially those who’re venturing outside our town for the first time since this plague.”

Now your dad gave your shoulder a squeeze. It was just before he moved on from talking only to you, to speaking to everyone. You gave Nancy’s hand one more squeeze yourself, before exhaling quietly and dropping it.

“You already know your mission is to collect whatever you can from Hawkins Hospital, but the items on the list y/n and Shaun have, are the essentials we need most. Antibiotics, clean needles, and salbutamol for the inhalers, are what we basically have dogshit of now. But anything you can find on the list, or anything you know we’ll need, stuff inside your packs.”

You watched from your peripheral as Jason readjusted the straps on his backpack. They were basically empty, sicne the mission would be less than a day. Some water, basic first aid in case a non bite related injury occurred, two people with item lists, two others who were trusted, Nancy and Frank, with maps. And most importantly, bullets. Boxes were stuffed in everyone packs, with guns in holsters or being held by straps, and you and Nancy with a knife each. Although she was a hell of a shot, so you’re sure she wouldn’t need it.

Your dad continued, an air of real seriousness intensifying now. “But first, a word of caution.” Another look straight to you, before darkening on everyone. “Zombies are not like us. They don’t think. They don’t bleed. They don’t feel.”

You’d heard this a thousand times. This information was solid in everyone’s heads who still had a functioning brain inside. “They may look human, but they are uncaring, violent, savage monsters. Whether they were your best friend, your mother, your sister, that person is gone. Zombies aren’t like you or I. There’s nothing that makes them human, that makes them feeling, still inside. They are hungry, they are apathetic, and they are murderers. They will rip you apart with their bear teeth, the second they get a smell of you. So don’t let them close enough to do so.”

You stood firm as your dads blue eyes bore straight into yours. Watching his expression almost seem human, like he claimed he was, as he saw you understood. “You shoot to kill. On sight.”

“Straight in the head.” Jason boasted, your dad flicking his eyes towards him. Although he didn’t say anything. Just gave you one more look, before he checked with Shaun about final plans.

It at least gave you a second with Nancy and Jason, moving into a closer circle as you asked him a question. “You think we’re going to this hospital to help with a cure?”

Jason narrowly avoided rolling his eyes at you, but he did speak directly. “I don’t believe in a cure anymore y/n.”

Nancy bit down on her lip. You moved to face the door again. If he’d at least said it remorsefully, defeately, you would’ve at least felt bad. Wanted to talk about it more. But he said it like he was one of those men in power who didn’t think anything would ever change, and was happy sticking to the kill everything and just survive style, because living was too much trouble. That kind of person. Well you weren’t that. You never wanted to be that.

You candidly took Jason’s hand in yours, turning to Nancy to speak words of encouragement as you gave him that comfort. But instead, Jason shook your hand off, pointing back towards your dad who he was trying to listen to, as reasoning.

Jason was spun around to take in the conversation about the same non useful information of just “do what you were trained to and you’ll be fine”. Meanwhile your eyes were square on his face. You could still study him, from his angled body. Still take in his face, trying to figure him out like you always seemed to be doing now. Looking at him, as if it may be the last time, since it was your first leaving.

Meanwhile he clearly wasn’t thinking of you at all. At least, that’s what it seemed like. More focused on the whole ‘nothing can touch me’ confidence he was clearly brimming with, as he paid strained attention to your dads every word. Versus actually worrying about you, since things didn’t always go according to plan. You know what your dad says, but maybe you want someone who thinks more with their heart than with their brains, in this world.

At least you and Nancy had each other. Hugging fully and squeezing tight, she playfully tugged on your hair as her arms wrapped around your neck, and you giggled while yanking some of hers back. Like it was the last time you’d get to to mess with each other’s hair. Get to smile at each other as just best friends. Not as comrades in arms. No matter what happened, if you both came back, you could both be changed.

Your dad stopped his little meeting now. Stepping towards the huddle of fresh volunteers, and, with a quick pat to Nancy’s shoulder, he looked only at you. No goodbyes for Jason.

“Hey, kid, listen.”

“I know I know. Stick to the plan, don’t get bit or killed.” You gave a meek smile, but you grumbled your words.

Hopper shook his head “No listen. Just... stay safe. Don’t take any stupid risks, if you need to retreat...”

It was still advice. But it made your heart beat quicker.

Hopper sighed wistfully. “Just come back safe. Okay, sweetheart?”

You didn’t feel more scared, at your dad showing emotion, nearly showing vulnerability. It only made you proud, not in yourself, but of him.

He laid his hand on your shoulder, then once more on Nancy’s. “Both of you, you hear me? These items aren’t as important as you two, just do what you can, and get home.” His face barely changed, but his words stayed clear very purposefully, head bouncing between the two girls he’d watched grow up. Between Nancy Wheeler, and his daughter. “You keep each other safe. Especially with the others dropped from your team today.”

“Yes Chief.” Nancy nodded, gently holding your elbow.

“Yes dad.” You took in a shaky breath, before leaning to hug him. The one thing your dad didn’t disappoint you in - not as a leader, he did a good job at that, but as your dad, was that he still hugged you back straight away. Just like he did when you were a kid. When the world was safe. “Bye dad.” You mumbled, your rifle caught between both your sides.

“Bye y/n.” He responded, pulling back, and, while still not smiling at you, at least nodding, before giving Jason one as well.

Who seemed to beam under the acknowledgment.

You didn’t notice him now moving to slink his arm around you, because you and Nancy were focused on linking your arms with each other’s, stepping towards the gates as your free hands found your pistols.

Jason bristled by your side at the show up in front of your dad, but he was soon raising his rifle, as all seven of you, and the three guards behind, lifted your guns while the doors opened.

Nothing. Nothing but the outside of your wall, and spike traps on the sidewalks was there. The four volunteers coming to help the three rookies still kept their guns closer by, half raised, but you, Jason, and Nancy gawked, at the ruins of buildings right in your eyesight. The graffiti covering the walls so close, yet out of reach for you. And the grass, growing through the cracks of the pavement, even though nothing living must have been near for years.

You kept your arm linked with Nancy, as you three lead the front, and an awed smile crept it’s way onto your fresh face.

“Awesome.”

You all managed to get into the hospital with ease. No zombies to speak of. One actual corpse on the way, half buried in a car window, but it wasn’t like you guys hadn’t seen bodies at this point in your lives.

The walk took hours, so you weren’t surprised by the time you all got to the first room stuffed with medical supplies, two members of your group sat on the floor to just have a chat with each other.

You couldn’t deny, the feeling of success from actually being here, did wonders for the adrenaline in your blood, as well as your spirit. You, Nancy and Jason cheered when you broke the lock of the first cabinet, enabling Nancy to stuff shelves on penicillin in her backpack. And there was plenty more to go!

You slapped Jason’s arm when he attempted to smash a glass cabinet open, telling him you should probably try to stay quiet, but the feeling of pride didn’t let either of you sour over it, him smirking at you before grabbing some painkillers.

Nancy hissed for you, making you stalk over to her, curious from the smile on her face. Only to flip her off as she chucked a box of viagra into your hands. You threw it back at her head, before she tilted it at Jason’s back, with a comedically disapproving look at him. You knew Nancy wasn’t the biggest fan of Jason. Neither of your trio of best friends were. They didn’t hate him. You guys even had some alright times together, before his dad. Which none of you could really blame him for. And he wasn’t a bad guy. They’d just all told you the same thing. And not just as lifelong friends, but as a fact they really wanted you to understand. ‘You could do better.’

You threw a roll of surgical tape at Nancy, that she stuffed in her pocket, both of you sharing a giggle as you bent by the drawers, than lined every row of the room. Above the drawers, were the glass cabinets. Two columns of them, with several rows in the medium sized room. A couple of desks lining the final column.

Right as you were bending down, Nancy snapped straight. “Did you hear that?”

Everyone in the room fell silent. The four in front of you, who were supposed to be helping train you but had never even encountered zombies on their missions, just stiffened. Nancy’s hand resting on her shotgun on the table, while you stood slowly, finally seeing the wide white look in her eyes.

You hadn’t. But you trusted her. “We should go now.” You decided easily, Nancy nodding at you as she picked up her gun and headed towards you, near the back exit.

But Jason didn’t even flinch.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, continuing opening and closing drawers, three of the other four wearily following his own movements. “Have you seen the reports on how much medicine we’re getting through each month?” He didn’t look at you, just kept digging around.

God that drawer was noisy. Your teeth clenched. “We should keep our asses safe versus-“

“Don’t be a coward.” Jason interrupted you, being assertive. He just came across as toxic. “We’ve got our guns.” He lifted his pistol to show you, making you blink furiously at the way he was handling this. You looked around at the people who ‘had guns’, the four of them back to just dicking about. Nancy only waiting for you to do something. You looked back at Jason. He smiled. “Those things are stupid brainless mutts.”

“They were people.” Nancy defended, always hating his brashness and entitlement. Especially as he snipped back at her. “I know Nance. ‘Were’.”

He turned back to his task. You walking to Nancy to give her an incredulous look, and to also stick close by her.

’Were, Nance!’ Nancy mocked to you, making you chuckle breathlessly as you went to reach another drawer.

This time, the thud was clear.

“I definitely heard something.” Nancy set her sawed off shotgun in position, as you grabbed your rifle from your shoulder. You and Nancy were near the penultimate row, with Jason behind you, and the four others in front. You should all just run for the back now, with your weapons ready.

But before you could silently order everyone that way, Jason stepped in front of you. And he kept walking.

Jason was slowly heading towards the door. Right where the noises were coming from. You could tell he was spooked. But so were you! Especially because he just kept going!!!

“Jason!” You hiss whispered, him looking back at you, stupidly, instead of the door with glass, in front. “We should definitely retreat now.” You urged, heart racing as your dads words echoed in your ears. So much you were scared you wouldn’t hear any thuds in front of or behind you.

“I’m just checking it out.” Jason whispered back, not quite as quiet. Getting to the front of the line, being the closest to the door and looking through the glass in the top half. Pistol in his hand, but not raised... before he exhaled. Turning around with a smile. “See? You’re just being paranoid-“

*BOOM*

Nancy shot a round right above Jason’s head. Straight through the glass of the door, where a herd of the undead were coming through. About the exact same amount of bodies you guys had.

You immediately knelt on the floor, half sheltered behind the drawers, as you snapped your safety off.

Eddie could sniff the living flesh from outside this buildings doors. Jeff hadn’t needed words to communicate, but being closest, he inhaled first, causing the others to quickly follow along. Eddie smiled the slightest at Gareth and Jeff, before they all meandered inside the buildings doors. He hated that it was a mean smile. But instincts were strong now he was hunting, and there was little time for humanity. Except for the humans themselves.

They followed the very strong scent now, as well as the noises, upstairs, until they rounded a corner, and they could spot their first human through the door.

A bullet burst through Gareth’s chest, brown blood just barely oozing in the wound, and a growl rose from his throat. Gareth kicked the door wide open, and the pack was released.

Eddie was growling now too. A wild sound, as the others ran for the humans left and right, Jeff barging forwards with Gareth, but knocking Eddie over in the process.

He strained his hands against the cold marble floor, lifting himself onto his elbow with ease, a snarl on his face. And that was when he saw you.

Eddie’s face dropped. His expression smoothed and expressively awed. As his eyes dilated, honed in on you. Bullets rang out like faint bells around him, as one of his favourite Chicago records span on repeat in his brain ‘I don’t wanna live without your love.’ There you were, twisting out from behind your cover. A rifle on your shoulder, pressing into your fleshy, warm, cheek. Soft, and squishy, against the pull back of your gun. Your eyes were sharp. More focused, more determined than anything Eddie had ever seen. Your pink lips, so full of life, just barely brushed against your gun, but you were silent. No screams of rage, just thought, and strength, and confidence, as your gun pushed back and forth against your shoulder, your body keeping straight with its vitality, while your pretty eyes focused on his surrounding comrades. Pretty...

Your hand expertly pulled back and forth on a mechanic hook, golden shell casings flying around your hair, that Eddie now noticed. The sun hitting it perfectly, from the glass shelves above you, and Eddie had never felt thankful for shelves before. Your hair cascaded around your head, being flipped away with ease, to show off more of your face. So full of life. So... so you. Eddie didn’t know you. But you were you. You were different. You were devastating, and you were enchanting.

Nothing else rang through Eddie. Not the screams of humans. Not the smell of flesh. Not the others. Not his friends. Not the zombie behind him getting shot, apart from the fact you were the one who aimed that way. Everything was slow. Everything was exactly what Eddie had needed, since the moment he’d come into being. And Eddie was stuck on you. You were the only thing. You were somehow Eddie’s everything.

Eddie’s eyes widened, almost looking like they had life in them, some sparkle as he rested where he was, just watching you. His tongue darted out, poking on his bottom lip, fully entranced by you.

You pulled back that pin, and no more gold flew to shower your being. Your face remained the same. Lips together, eyes so so bright, and your look captivating. You remained this way, as you dodged behind the drawers, and right out of Eddie’s view.

Something inside of Eddie sunk. And he panicked as you moved away.

His eyes widened, still feeling slow and sludgy, way more than his usual pale body did, as he pushed against the floor and frenziedly got onto his feet. Cold lurched up into his throat at your new absence, like a hole. Pushing his hands off the cold floor to stand up, slow, readjusting legs, carrying him as he groaned, not a noise of apathy, but more like an echoed whimper, hand outstretching for you as he stumbled quickly over to you. Unsteady on his own feet he’d just gotten used to, his song still playing in his thoughts. Shuffling closer to your row, to come find you again.

That’s when the first shot rang clear, not blurred by his ears or shut out by his brain. But loud, as a bullet forced itself into his shoulder, and shoved him back.

Anger overtook Eddie, as he looked up to the blonde man standing on top of a desk and smiling at him. Bouncing on his two, much more coordinated, feet. Eddie’s instincts made everything much clearer again. Like the cacophony of meat. Wet, sticky, hot, meat.

Eddie’s head tilted at the blue eyed man.

“Yeah! That’s what you get you fucking frea-!”

His feet were grabbed, yanked by Eddie’s very strong hands, as he slammed the man face first into the table. Losing grip of his gun immediately, and his hands panickedly scraping for the end of the desk. Eddie dragged him once, and he immediately fell to the floor right by Eddie’s feet. And he screamed.

The first thing Eddie did, while ripping the man’s arm up as he pulled him close, was to bite his venomous mouth deep into the blonde’s wrist. This way no matter what, he’d at least definitely fuck him over.

Eddie thought that his gold watch was sparkly, like your bullets, as the man screamed in pain and horror. Terrified of the curly haired man above him, teeth and jaw bloody with his own flesh.

Eddie didn’t like this one.

He smashed his once brilliantly smarmy face into the marble ground. Over. And over. And over. He couldn’t feel the pain of the bullet, but he still knew this man tried to hurt him. And it of course, made him pissed.

Luckily for Eddie, this guy’s watch slipped off as Eddie was doing so! He didn’t even think consciously about putting his watch in his ripped jean pocket, he just did it with his easily available left hand, while he tossed around briefly, the thought of eating this man’s brains.

Eddie didn’t really want this guys memories, his thoughts and feelings... But he was also hungry.

With the skull cracked open, Eddie began picking the best food source out of him, stuffing it into his drooling bloody red lips, the only way they could be as colourful as your living ones, hunger the one thing on his mind as he finally started to chew down.

As an older blonde haired man sat opposite this guy, Jason, on the seesaw, Eddie relished in the extra burst of humanity he briefly got to feel, while his stomach was satiated. His dad got up, Eddie’s view only up to his hips, before the smiling father lifted them, Eddie and Jason, higher and higher, closer to his height.

Eddie couldn’t hear his own groan of content he was making. Instead he was watching Jason’s hands score a basket, lowered clearly for kids. Other nine, maybe ten year olds, friends Eddie soon knew the names of, coming to celebrate around Eddie, who was feeling the rush, the pride, the genuine joy, of throwing that ball into that hoop.

A barely teen was punching Jason. Eddie felt the pain in his nose. Then he felt it in his fist, as Jason punched the red headed fourteen year old back.

Then Eddie saw hair he recognised. It was the back of your head. Y/n... He knew your name now. You had the prettiest name he’d ever heard in his ears. You turned back to look at Eddie. His heart skipped a beat. And then, your face smiled.

Eddie could decipher between the two men’s emotions, even enhanced by the former. Eddie felt like he was soaring. He hadn’t seen you smile before.

Another flash was before him, and this time, your face was closer. The classroom swapped for posters on the walls and a lamp. But you weren’t smiling. You looked nervous.

“And... well, you?” A nervous laugh left Jason/Eddie’s lips as well. Eddie could feel his heart pounding, he didn’t really remember what that feeling was like, but he was mesmerised by your face. Slowly, easing into another smile. This one full of exhilaration, of joy, of love Eddie/Jason thought. “I love you too!” You exclaimed. Eddie couldn’t even decipher his own feelings then, too caught off guard by the image of you leaning forward. Until you two weren’t in your bedroom anymore. You were both on a football field.

“I think we can be whatever we want to be. Fuck what they think.” You said, laying down with your arms beneath your head, and your chin tilted towards Eddie’s eyes. A hand shot out, gently brushing a lock of hair away from the hem of your sleeve, against the plush of your arm, and Eddie was uspet he couldn’t physically feel that. “Maybe.” Jason’s voice responded. “Maybe I don’t care what we do, who we are. As long as I’m still with you.”

You snorted. Eddie wanted to moan delightfully at the happy sound, but Jason just chuckled instead. Watching as you slid up onto the palm of your hand, and leant above him.

“Jason?” You asked. And Eddie wished it was his name leaving your lips instead. But then, the brightness of the memory began to flicker, and Eddie felt his tongue grow empty. Your face warped into a terrified look, and you repeated the same question.

“JASON!?”

Eddie shot up, in the lab again. That time was real.

Drool slobbered down Eddie’s chin and between his greedy fingers, twinged pink with blood, as he didn’t care to clean up his slobber.

Instead, he was looking straight up towards you. Your face was different now. Worried, like it was a bit in the tainted memory. You span all the way around, only for Eddie to see your gaze finally focus, away from the desk he and Jason’s corpse were hidden behind.

You were looking at another girl, frizzy haired and short, being pinned to the drawers by one of the zombies Eddie did not know. That determined look slightly covering your fear was enough to get a clear aim. One shot fired from your rifle, and Eddie saw the girl get freed, the other zombie slumping down her legs, and onto the ground.

Eddie actually felt fear now. Not of you, never could Eddie be scared of wonderful you. Fear you’d see what he is, what he’d done...

Quickly he stuffed what he could of the brains into his jacket pocket, fingers not nimble enough to do the leather’s zipper, although he did not care. He had more important things.

Clearly, you’d lost count of your bullets. He saw you staring at a backpack, but it was out of reach, as Gareth was tearing the flesh off a man right in front of it. He saw the panicked look in your face once more, saw you spinning around, and without taking his eyes off of you, Eddie began to move.

The first thing he did was wipe off the blood on his face, self-consciousness striking in his brain as he realised how that may look, and he wanted to look presentable. He didn’t want to scare you. Eddie rose, his eyes fixed on you, an awed look on his pale face once more, as he stumbled towards you.

For the first time, you looked right at Eddie, not through him, but at him. Eddie wasn’t sure he was expressing how this made him feel on the outside. His eyes did widen a little. But he just kept moving. Feeling like his legs were sludgy again. But semi-confident as the room quietened down, with just his friends eating.

Eddie saw fear flash across your face. Before you quickly searched your pockets. He understood why you might be frightened at first, but he kept going, knowing he just needed to let you know-

Eddie looked down as he saw a knife, thrown, and wedged, just below his heart. A saddened expression flickered onto Eddie’s face. Stopping for a moment as his lips turned upside down, while he slowly pulled the knife out. It didn’t hurt, Eddie just felt slightly hurt, a whimper in his throat as the brown blood lightly smeared his shirt, but didn’t flow. The knife clanged to the floor as Eddie casually dropped it, hurt expression slightly lifting, with every step he took closer to you.

You squeaked. And Eddie supposed an instinctual fearful sound was alright, survival wise, if it was quiet. Eddie wouldn’t judge you even if it wasn’t. Eddie would never judge you.

You shuffled to the side near your drawers, backing up, before very quickly hitting it. Now your eyes weren’t leaving Eddie’s either.

Eddie kept walking, your scared expression on your face making Eddie’s lip wobble, as he tried hard to speak. Eyes purposeful on you now, trying to communicate with you. His eyes trying to let you that know he was trying.

Your lips were parted now, a petrified tremble of a sound leaving your throat, as everything flew out your brain, leaving only your racing heart beating the imminent fear around you. Of this thing you’d learned to be scared of, in the form of a curly haired, still brown eyed man. Who was shambling towards you with purpose.

“Yyyy/- y/nnnnn...” Eddie stammered quietly, trying to calm you, with an upturned and open hand. Watching your face pale in confusion at this man knowing your name, this zombie speaking to you.

You slowly slid down against the drawers, Eddie following you, face to face, as he finally got close enough. You both fell to the floor, and Eddie’s eyes squinted.

Your face no longer held horror. Instead, you looked defeated, with a hint of perplexity. Tears fell from your cheeks, and Eddie’s own eyes began to soften. His face fell, spattered with small drops of blood, but genuinely smooth and saddened, his eyebrows raised in slight hope, his lips opening and closing with effort. “Yyyyy/nnnn.” He tried again.

You were more confused. But also more scared. Now at least you realised it was no accident, no one final word. He... the man who looked like you shot his puppy, who was gently kneeling down near you as you started to cry, was trying to talk to you.

You didn’t sob. You couldn’t. But a few tears still ran hot down your cheeks. Eddie’s index finger, clean, pale, and adorning a dirtied silver ring, slowly, and trembling, began to raise up. If it’d been his whole hand, you’d have been terrified, but his singular finger made you aghast. Especially as, when you screwed your eyes closed, you felt the cold, but calloused flesh, touch your cheek so gently. Eddie’s finger brushed down your cheek, lingering a little at your chin, as he clearly wasn’t super coordinated. You opened your eyes, to check if this was actually happening.

When you did, the zombies paler brown eyes were fixated on your wet streak, eyebrows scrunched almost... almost forlornly, at your tears. When his eyes shot back up to your own you hiccuped, leaning further back into the drawers as best you could. But you stayed deathly still, as his finger gained closer again. The man was still shaking, so it worried you more when his finger came close to your eye, but he was precise. It was like he was focused. His finger very very gently found the waterline of your eyelid, and so so carefully, it dipped slightly into it. Almost pulling, but extremely delicately. Soaking away your tear, as you stared awestruck, in disbelief, and worried about your eyes, while this sad looking man, felt the drop of your tear accumulate quickly from your eyelid, onto his finger, streaking down it. And you swore you heard the zombie gasp.

He studied his damped finger, before brushing it down the apple of your cheek and away.

Suddenly, Jeff started upwards, bringing both yours and Eddie’s heads, who were hidden in your position, straight to the bloody jawed zombie. The other three survivors near him, raising slower, but all of them beginning to sniff the air.

Your heart thunked in dread, but you didn’t get much time to look at them, as Eddie close by your head, swung back to look at you. He held a similar dread to your own.

Eddie whimpered, for you. His mouth gaped open, jaw slack, and eyes bugged. His eyes scared. You whimpered too. He knew the others wouldn’t understand. But he had to keep you safe.

Eddie placed his hand some inches away from your head, against the wall of drawers, trapping you in his little pile with him. You didn’t whimper, you were too scared of the others, but a wave of angst did hit at the finality of being sealed in with him.

Whatever he was doing with you.

An idea quickly formed in his mind, and Eddie drew his bloodied hand to the knife wound in his chest, circling the hole of brown blood that stayed in place. Until Eddie dug his fingers around a little. Scooping up the blood, with a caring expression, Eddie gently went to smear his blood onto your skin.

Your face twisted back in a grimace. Too scared to move away, too frightened of this monster. You had no idea what he was doing, but you felt a gross pit of defeat, as you held your breath, and felt his fingers once again caress your cheek. This time, grimy and bloodied with that awful colour.

Eddie traced his bloody fingers down your apple, and the indent of your nose, letting his heavy hand fall, with grace, sweetly down your chin, his fingers drawing down the side of your neck, dragging tenderly to your collarbone, where he pulled them back.

His eyes stayed tracking the smear of him marking you. Making you bite your lip more with fear, as he simply focused on his task.

Once again, Eddie’s hand gently rubbed down your face, repeating the process of covering you with his blood. Stopping on your neck this time, before he finished.

No grunt of approval. Nothing. Eddie’s eyes were transfixed on where your neck met your shoulder, his stopping point.

You didn’t move. You were too scared to. You just sat there, staring forwards, too frightened to look at what you knew was a monster, as he slowly, began to lean in.

You didn’t swallow. You didn’t think about your dead friends. You didn’t think about the other zombies. You just sat there, breathing shallowly, as the zombie moved in. Staying still for him, while his hair gently pushed yours out of the way, hovering unsteadily by your neck.

You could hear him sniffing. Small sounds, like an animal, a beast, scenting you. But gentler sniffs, like they weren’t from his frame. The bursts of air against your neck made you shiver. One last small tear escaping your eye, not even feeling the need to cry anymore, body just tingling all over instead. As the tip of his nose gently brushed your jaw, tracing the outline of it as he continued sniffing at your collarbone. Blood dampened with his cold breath on your skin, rippling sensations over the little hairs all over you, including from his dangerous intimacy.

Your eyes managed to move downwards, looking at the mess of hair completely surrounding your side, seeing the look of focus in his eyes, as his nose continued softly creasing, in times with the tufts of his air he was laying upon your sticky neck.

Eventually, the zombie began to pull back, clearly satisfied with his scenting or marking of you, whatever he was doing. His soft nose bumped against the side of your neck as he shakily moved backwards. And your eyes blinked in shock to find the smallest of smiles on his face, even reaching his brown eyes.

“S-Sssafe...” Eddie smiled, feeling encouraged at the fact you smelled of him. You smelled of all of them. Like one of them. The others wouldn’t hurt you now, not if he kept you close by. He could keep you near him, while his blood on you was still there, and then he could take you home! Where you’d be safe with him!

Eddie’s smile widnened a little further, at the knowledge he was able to communicate that you were safe now with him! At least, he presumed you understood him, by the way your head tilted in slight disbelief. Your eyes holding his so beautifully... he swore he could read them forever.

“W-What?” You asked, barely above a whisper. Too in shock to even comprehend was was going on.

“Come nowww...” Eddie spoke gently, his hands taking both edges of the sleeves of your jacket, and helping pulling you up.

He was happy that this would work.

You were too shocked to stop him from pulling you. Trembling, as he brought you close behind him.

Eddie was still smiling, more gleeful than he’d ever felt in his entire un-life, as he brought you to his side, the others walking ahead of him as they’d only smelt the overpowering scent of their own blood.

Gareth walked slightly faster to be in line with Jeff. More likely, Eddie was just being slower, as he was helping you get on your feet. You were still a little shaky. But you managed again, only a small squeak, nothing loud, as Gareth’s cold arm brushed past your torn jacket sleeve.

You huddled close to Eddie’s side. Not exactly holding him, but not wanting to be anywhere away from him either. Pressing your hip into his, as his body slunk solidly with yours, happy. Eddie moved his hand from your sleeve, tenderly bringing it down, and wrapping his hand around yours. Focused on getting it right, as he moved his digits carefully, being gentle as he pressed his palm into your own.

You were so warm

He held your hand tenderly, but not loosely. Not tight and possessive either. Just secure. It was set sturdily in yours, pressing his fingers against the back of your hand, as he helped lead you forwards.

You were both stumbling, together. You mostly from fear and unsureness, Eddie helping keep you upright and moving, as you two went to join the group of groaning, mindless, zombies.

Eddie being anything but. Content, with a glazed over look that wasn’t apathetic, but pleased, in his eyes, as he looked forward, just ready to get you home.

As your feet crunched on the glass, you managed to look down to find Nancy. Seeing her hiding in the space under the drawers, peeking out at you, with an awful look on her face.

You very subtly shook your head. They hadn’t noticed her. And you and her both knew, it’d only be a suicide mission if she came out now. You tried to get one last look at Nancy, one last look at home. Before your best friend, with tears in her eyes, held her hand to her mouth and nose to stop herself from breathing too shakily, and watched as you were walked away, past her field of view.

You just had to look forward. You couldn’t risk giving Nancy away. Even the zombie holding your hand clearly had no cares in the world to check any of his surroundings behind him. He was still smiling.

You looked at him in terror, and wonder. Questions couldn’t fill your mind, it was just racing with the knowledge you had to follow him, to survive. You had no weapons on you, no backpack, nothing. You just had his hand in yours, and clearly he was willing to be some kind of shield for you. You didn’t know why, but you thought, maybe, he’d protect you.

As you got to the stairs, with the sounds of the others a floor below you, the curly haired man turned to look at you again.

A noise like a question left his thick lips. It was a sort of high moan, but very clearly the sound of him asking something. Your gritted teeth parted to take a rocky breath, staring at the crooked steps you’d taken up here an apparent lifetime ago.

Understanding him, but not speaking, you took the first step down.

Eddie kept hold of your hand, wanting to help you because you were still shaking, but you both made it down the stairs with no problems.

You two were still slow, Eddie didn’t want to give you away by moving too fast when not on a hunt, and he didn’t want to trip you, considering you were walking a little funny. But he managed to walk well enough to rejoin the group. A little space between you two and the others, at the back. You smelled a lot like Eddie though. Making him pleased with his good work.

You clung to Eddie’s side once again, not letting him go as you hid slightly into his dirtied leather jacket. And Eddie felt something swell within him. Almost beaming. He continued to look forward, thinking about how the sun had looked in your hair again, and thinking about you. He groaned happily, holding your hand closer to his body. Keeping you safe.

You stayed close to the one who’d... who’d done something, with you. You didn’t want to upset him. You didn’t want to alert the others. You had no idea why he’d covered for you. Or why he was holding your hand. What you did know though, was that you were going somewhere with him...

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Hi!! Does anyone know of anyone who takes requests for R from Warm Bodies? I’ve been trying to find blogs who wanna write for him🤧🤧🤧

[beetlesau]

!zombie Bakugou x reader, Warm Bodies

Chapter 4, woah woah chapter 4? chapter 4.

He snarled and in one motion, picked you both up off the floor, holding you aloft by the scruff of your sweater. Your feet dangled above the ground as he examined you, turning you easily from side to side. 

Laughing awkwardly in fear at his raw strength was all you could manage to do as he held you like a ragdoll. 

His eyes snapped up to your mouth, listening to the noise it created. If you weren't in this situation, you might compare him to a dog hearing a new sound. Well. like, an angry-looking dog. He cocked his head ever so slightly but his eyebrows were so scrunched, that from your angle you could no longer see his eyes. 

And then, he put you down. And you stood there. For a while. 

"Should I... run? Should I say something? Uh....." As far as you were concerned this was not standard protocol for dealing with a Dead. However, this one was the one in control at this moment so you weren't sure what "protocol" you even meant. 

After all your fear and hesitation died down, you decided to take a step backward. 

The creature, man, Dead, thing, growled and squinted at you, but did not move otherwise. 

So you figured you would test out the other direction. The one that led to the door, the exit. You slowly rotated and took a single small step. You didn't get far this time because, in an instant, his arm snapped out and pushed you back with ease. 

"Ah-ha Okay Hey easy man, easy." You held your arms up defensively and backed up further this time. You backed up to the farthest wall and pressed yourself against it for support. 

This staring contest went on for the longest time. Eventually, you'd slid down the wall into a sitting position, and then finally laid out on the floor. You were too damn tired to keep up with your fear. Maybe you'd wake up to him eating you. Maybe you could die peacefully in your sleep. 

Or maybe, he'd be standing there STILL when you woke up a whole six. hours. later. 

You rolled over at one point and woke up facing the wall. When you turned to look at your prison guard he was still there. Only now, after a much-needed sleep (despite it being on the cold hard floor) you could take him in with new eyes. And a bit less fear... A bit. 

You could see now that his skin was just dirty, not rotted. You'd made his features a lot more scary in your nightmare than what was really in front of you. 

You rolled your eyes. It was odd. You were the most cautious person alive in the world, (not that that meant much) but here you were staring down the beast, and with no more hesitation, you approached him. 

He growled a warning if you were to attempt to leave again, but was silenced by a hand on his mouth. 

"Fuck it. Absolutely fuck. it." You were going to die, and before that happened you were going to get a good look at your killer. 

You pushed your fingers to his upper lip and barred his canines. 

Not the jagged nails you'd dreamed them to be. His eyes were not glazed over, they were simply red and burning. His hair, however, was indeed a mess. There was dirt and who knows what else stuck in its tangles. 

You sighed. All this touching and closeness and he still hadn't eaten you. However, if looks could kill, you'd be dead many times over with the way this guy stared. 

You took a step instead this time to the left, towards the kitchen. He growled and went to put out his hand but you weren't having it this time. You put your own hand up to give him the one-finger "wait" gesture and hoped he would understand. With all the confidence the outside of you had, the inside was screaming to high heaven. 

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD" 

But you carried on, headed to the sink, and pulled out your old but clean washrags from the cabinet. You turned the faucet on and waited for the rusty brown water to clear from the line. There was no hot water of course, but anything was better than nothing. With a dampened cloth you returned to your... captor? Guest? ... you returned to the Dead standing in the middle of your apartment. 

"Uh, here. I made this for you... obviously. You saw me make it. I- Uh, I just mean it's to get you cleaned up. Here." you held out your offering awkwardly as you waited for him to take it. Or do something at all, besides look angry.

"Alright... I can do it. Here, let me." you lifted the rag to his cheek and as the cool water touched his face he finally reacted. Poorly. 

He flinched away swatting his hand at you loosely, a grimace at the waters touch. 

"Hey! Stop it! Don't be a baby I'm just trying to help like you asked me to in my sleep." you played with the rag in your hands. He gave no sign of understanding but you couldn't stop talking. You were lonely. All you'd ever had was Dead to talk to, so this felt as comfortable a thing to do as talking to your Dead pals in the car pen. 

"Crazy weird, right? When I got knocked out yesterday I had a nightmar-- I mean, a dream about you." you back peddled as if he would be offended by the word "nightmare"

You said you needed my help, but like, also said you didn't need my help? I'm not sure, after I saved you from that crate, I--"

Something you said must have triggered him because out of nowhere he was fuming. He threw his arms up and turned away from you to pace back and forth. He wasn't exactly fast, you noted. Seemed to have a slight limp, which was understandable considering, you know, his death status and all. He was growling incoherently like if he could he'd be stringing a line of expletive words at you. "Uh, was it something I said?" ignored.

"Crate?" nothing.

"Nightmare? Cause I mean in all fairness, it was." still pacing.

"saved you? Help?" bingo. 

He stopped in his tracks and bared his teeth at you in a childish way. You actually couldn't help the smile that broke over your face.

"Ummm, what you don't like that I saved you?" he marched over and towered above you, his chest heaving. "Okaay, well I did. You know that, right? You weren't getting out of that crate alone, buddy." for a moment you'd forgotten the danger of the situation you were in. You'd nearly forgotten that the person before you was not human anymore. You were reminded of that fact very quickly as you heatedly went to push his chest away from you. As soon as your hand applied pressure, he was shoving you to the ground, his fingernails nearly ripping into the arm you'd held out at him. 

As fast as it had started, it ended. He grabbed your hair and yanked your head to the side, plunging into your neck violently. Time slowed to a crawl in your mind as you could feel his teeth sink into your flesh. Eyes wide and wild, your lungs air was stolen from shock, you intended to use the last of your breath to scream, but all that came out was a whispered: "save me".

His teeth were lodged around your neck, not yet breaking the skin, but god did it feel like it. It seemed as though he was stuck there in that position. Maybe between standing between the vail of Death and a shred of humanity. fighting an instinct to rip you to shreds. 

His breathing was hot and heavy, it smelt like copper and earth. His saliva pooled in the divot of your throat. 

Then he released you. 

By the time you came out of your utter shock, you scanned the room from your place on the floor.

He was gone. For now. 

[enqmind]

Paxton Fettel gets information out of people by eating part of their brains.

So, you know, he eats your boyfriend’s brain as part of his vengeance on the world plot and one thing leads to another.

Now you have this psychic with hundreds of clones at his disposal obsessed with you while a specialised part of the US military is trying to kill him.

Oh, and his ghost psychic mum might not take to kindly to that.

Good luck.

[sshewonders]

WARM BODIES

Chapter 05: Doubtful

chapter synopsis: Daryl and Merle arrive with supplies. When you ask Daryl to teach you hunting, he dismisses you. Frustrated, you turn to sketching in your tent for emotional release.

chapter warnings: Social isolation, rejection, and self-doubt themes as the protagonist struggles to fit in, seeking validation and finding solace in art.

word count: 1.4k words

author's note: Don't you just love it when writers depict Daryl Dixon in Season 1 just as Norman Reedus portrays him? He's an annoying jerk in Season 1, and I kind of hate it when writers make him out of character, suddenly super sweet. Anyway, enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

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The Dixon brothers set their tent at a distance, out of sight from the others. You could still keep an eye on them, given that your and Glenn's tent wasn't too far from the Dixons'. While Daryl was busy skinning the squirrels he had caught, Merle had gone off somewhere, probably into the woods to retrieve their pickup or something. Daryl wasn't exactly the sociable type, and when Carl approached him to ask about his cool crossbow, Shane sternly instructed the boy to stay away from the Dixon brothers. You couldn't blame Shane, though. He was just looking out for Carl, right?

Later around lunchtime, Merle returned with a red, worn-out pickup and a motorcycle on the back. A group of men, including Shane, Jim, T-dog, Dale, Morales, Glenn, and others whose names you didn't know, gathered around the pickup. It was loaded with a small arsenal of guns and ammo, enough to provide a bit more security but not nearly sufficient to arm everyone.

Daryl began frying some squirrels, and you observed from a distance while hanging your laundry, which had been washed by Carol. You had a plan - to talk to Daryl and ask him to teach you how to hunt, so you could help bring food to the table and not leave him hunting alone.

After finishing your chores, you made your way to the Dixon brothers' tent. Merle was still absent, probably indulging in who knows what in the woods. The sun was slowly descending in the afternoon sky.

"Hey, Daryl," you started, your voice slightly shaky due to nervousness. You weren't great at socializing, especially with strangers, and there was an unfamiliar lilt in your voice. You cleared your throat, hoping to ease your awkwardness. "I just wanted to thank you for giving some squirrels to Dale. He's cooking them for dinner now. So, thank you."

Daryl, his eyes hard and unreadable, looked up from the pan where he was frying squirrels. An uncomfortable silence hung between the both of you as you tried to decipher his expression.

Then, Daryl scoffed, still focused on the squirrels. He plated more of them, his gruff voice expressing his reluctance to chat. "It's nothin'. It's part of the deal, what tha' cop said, and my brother agreed to it."

After a moment, his gaze returned to the pan, fixated on the sizzling squirrels. He then put a few cooked ones onto a plastic plate, adding another batch to the pan, which crackled with the sound of frying. You kept your distance from the hot oil.

As the oil sizzled and popped, you flinched, your frustration growing. Daryl didn't seem to care much about your unease, and you clenched your fists in frustration.

"Damn it," you muttered to yourself, releasing a heavy sigh. You felt like you were failing at this whole conversation thing.

Daryl glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in his hard eyes. "What?" he asked.

You gathered your courage and got straight to the point. "I need you to teach me how to hunt," you said, causing Daryl's eyes to lock onto you. "Please."

Daryl stared at you, as if you had lost your mind. He offered a disdainful glance and finished frying the squirrels before transferring them to a plate. "Ain't a damn teacher, girl," he scoffed, making his way toward his tent.

Unwilling to give up, you followed him, an anxious expression on your face. "Please. I really need to learn how to hunt. I want to be useful here."

Daryl's harsh tone continued, making your heart sink further. He spat out, "Why don't ya teach yourself? You're an archer, ain't ya? Or are you too delicate for that too? Some people just ain't built for this world."

You felt your heart sink, his response making you upset. You mustered up your resolve and replied, "I may know how to shoot a bow, but I don't know how to track, skin, or prepare game. That's why I need someone like you to show me. Please."

Daryl continued to give you the cold, harsh stare. His annoyance was apparent as he sneered at you, "You ain't cut out for this kind of life, girl. You should stick playin' with your bows and let the real hunters do their job. Ain't nobody got time to babysit you."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger, but you kept your composure and replied, "I may not be cut out for it now, but I'm willing to learn. So, sorry for bothering you, Daryl." With that, you turned away, your eyes glistening with unshed tears, and walked back to your tent, leaving Daryl to his squirrels.

Inside your tent, you stared at you recurve bow with a sense of hopelessness. What was the point of begging someone, especially a skilled hunter, to teach you how to hunt if they clearly despised you? It felt futile. You couldn't help but feel proud of bringing Daryl and Merle to the camp, securing a valuable source of food and weaponry. Still, a small part of you had hoped that Daryl would agree to teach you.

You had always excelled in archery. You had won numerous awards and accolades before the world fell apart, both at school and in town events. But now, in the damned new world, everything was different. Target practice on stationary darts was nothing like aiming at moving and dangerous creatures like the geeks.

You grappled with a deep sense of inadequacy in the camp. Every time you attempted to help with chores, the older women insisted on taking over, believing the tasks were too strenuous for you. When you expressed interest in gathering firewood, the men gently discouraged you, stating that such labor wasn't suitable for someone of your stature. Trying your hand at cooking resulted in laughter and ridicule, with a past incident involving almost setting a pot on fire being the source of the amusement.

You despised it all. You couldn't stand being treated like a child. You were twenty-seven years old, after all. You and Glenn were of the same age, yet he had been remarkably useful to the camp, taking on various tasks like firewood collection, car repairs, and even venturing into the city for supply runs. For you, it was an ongoing cycle of feeling inept. You had been seen as useless before the world turned to chaos, and it seemed that nothing had changed since.

You couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a sense of self-doubt. You thought about your brother, who had always been there to support you and push you to be better. Your eyes began to well up with tears as you reminisced about those moments.

Your voice cracked as you muttered to yourself, "Why can't I just be strong and useful like Glenn?" You wiped away a few tears and took a deep breath. It wasn't just about being strong physically; you felt a deep need to prove your worth to the group.

You set your bow aside, your trembling hands reaching for the worn leather bag beside you. With a deep sigh and tears glistening in your eyes, you carefully unzipped the bag, revealing the art materials within. The act of unzipping the bag felt like unearthing a piece of your past life, one that was filled with colors, inspiration, and dreams.

The sketchbook, its pages slightly yellowed with age, felt cool to the touch. You opened it gently, revealing a blank canvas waiting to be filled. Your charcoal pencils, meticulously organized by size, lay beside the sketchbook. The variety of pencils, from 4H to 6B, held the potential to capture the depth of your emotions.

In the dim light of your tent, illuminated only by a flickering candle, you began to draw. Each stroke was a release of the tension that had built up inside you. Your hand, guided by your emotions, moved with nothing but sadness.

Tears streaked down your face as you allowed your emotions to pour onto the paper. The sketch took shape, revealing a face with furrowed brows and eyes heavy with sorrow. The lines of the sketch mirrored the turbulence within your soul, the turmoil you had been trying to contain.

Time seemed to stand still as you poured your heart into the artwork. By the time you put down your charcoal pencil, the sketch was complete. You gazed at your creation, your tears now dried on your cheeks. The intensity of the emotional release left you feeling drained yet strangely relieved. The sketch captured a glimpse of your inner world, a silent cry for understanding and acceptance.

Art had been your solace for as long as you could remember, and it was a reminder that even in the darkest of times, you could find a way to express yourself and heal.

@celtic-crossbow @maackiimoo @duckmania127 @xmaeyonaiise @richardsamboramylove55