crush oneshots!!

the fight to survive (zombie apocalypse au) ⚠️

y/n: your name

l/n: your last name

c/n: crush's name

c/l/n: crush's last name

h/c: your hair color

e/c: your eye color

s/c: your skin color

c/h/c: crush's hair color

c/e/c: crush's eye color

c/s/c: crush's skin color

b/f/n: best friend's name

b/f/l/n: best friend's last name

In this imagine, your town/city is hit with a zombie apocalypse! I wanted to try something different and place y/n and c/n into an alternate universe. Let me know if you enjoyed reading something like this!

"Shit!" you shout as you look out the window. Your street is overrun with the undead, dressed in rags and covered with rotting wounds that weep blood and pus.

You grip your knife, hard. Your front door is boarded up, and most of your windows are as well. You left one window clear so you could keep track of the situation outside.

Sadly, you are the only one in your household left (sorry if this is too sad). You have been fighting to survive for the past week, all alone, left in an empty house and living in the middle of a horde of zombies. You know that sooner or later you will have to go on the move, as you are mere days away from running out of supplies.

You begin to pack a small duffel bag you can easily carry on your back. You tuck some extra knives inside, some remaining food and water, and a couple changes of clothes. You rip a strip of cloth from one of your old t-shirts and fashion a bandana that you wrap around your forehead to keep your hair out of your eyes. You grab a belt with a small holster you can tuck your knife in; the belt belonged to your dad, who used to go camping a lot.

Tomorrow, then, I'll leave, you decide, curling up in your parents' bed to sleep. You let yourself cry for a little bit, remembering your family, then drift off into a restless sleep.

In the morning, you're awake before the sun. You've found that it's easier to creep around in the shadows without the zombies seeing you, and that they seem to be more dormant when it's cooler. So just as the clock hits 4:30, you hoist your bag onto your back, grip your knife in your hand, and head out the door.

You slowly slink from the shadows of one neighbor's house to another's. You can smell the stench of decay clinging to you like a second skin. It smells like death.

As the sun rises, and the hotter it gets, the wilder the zombies seem to be getting. You can hear their growls and snarls more clearly with every passing hour. Soon, you're out of your area of town, and are now on the main street.

You stumble across the main road, and quickly hide behind a shattered car. Zombies are shuffling across the street, jaws unhinged, eyes sunken. You swallow your fear as a particularly fearsome-looking one ambles far too close to you for comfort.

You decide to break off from the main road and head through one of the closer neighborhoods. At the end of the neighborhood, you see it: your old school, Grovewood High, all its windows and doors broken and the brick walls covered in graffiti. You swallow your sadness as you remember b/f/n. You wonder where she is right now, if her and her family got out of the town safely. You wonder if it even matters; are any of the surrounding towns doing any better?

And, of course, you think of c/n. You imagine his soft c/h/c hair, those beautiful c/e/c eyes. You remember how close you two had gotten over this past school year. You two had spent many long nights studying together in the town library, spent many cold winter afternoons drinking hot chocolate at the local diner. You wonder how he's doing. You wonder if you'll ever see him again, or anyone, for that matter. Anyone that's not a damn zombie.