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𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 fluff ⬩ angst ⬩ horror/thriller ⬩ smut (pnv) ⬩ bsf!matt ⬩ melancholic themes ⬩ mentions of zombies + death ⬩ soft moments admits the chaos ⬩ mild gore & blood ⬩ more.

ⓘ 3.4k words 𓂃 english isn’t my first language!

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 one mundane morning, everything changes; the world tilts and people dies. but the dead turns undead, causing chaos and mayhem in the usually quiet neighborhood. will you outlast the harsh conditions thrown your way? or will you succumb to your fate and become one of them?

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 happy valentine’s day everyone<3 even though it’s technically the 16th for me rn which means i’m two days late, but this is my valentine’s day gift for you all^^ this is inspired by @oopsiedaisydeer’s headcanons and loosely based of the lyrics from the song “die with a smile”. i initially planned this as a series back in march last year (almost a year ago, yikes) but never got around to writing past the first chapter so i decided to do a lil’ something like this instead :)

best friend!matt who... cuddles you to sleep.

Matt loves holding you close, keeping your head on his chest and your body half draped across his. He idly plays with your hair, occasionally nuzzling his face in it to inhale your sweet scent.

He hopes you don’t hear the way his heart pounds in his chest, the way he never says no to being overly touchy even though this is probably not how close friends should be.

"That feels good..." You mumble sleepily, eyes closed and breathing growing slower by the minute. You can feel yourself drifting off to sleep, cocooned by his warmth and the blanket draped over you both.

Matt hums in response, soft and quiet. And he keeps playing with your hair until your body grows heavy above him, lashes fanning your cheeks and one side of your face squished against his chest. The sight makes him smile softly, his heart squeezing in a way that tells him exactly how fucked he is.

best friend!matt who... wakes up to you wrapped around him like a koala.

Matt’s irises move under his eyelids as he starts to stir, a soft groan leaving him when he feels your arms and legs wrapped tightly around him. His eyes flutter open, and slowly but surely, they adjust to the morning light.

He can’t help the wide, sleepy grin that spreads across his lips when he looks down at you and finds you still sleeping, hugging him as if he’s a life-sized stuffed animal, your expression peaceful.

Matt waits until you wake up, watching you with a soft smile. His hand is gentle as it pushes stray strands of hair out of your face, fingers lingering on your cheek longer than they should. And his voice is soft, but scratchy with lingering sleep, when you open your eyes. "Good morning, sleepyhead."

You chuckle at his words and teasing tone, your own voice heavy with sleep. "Morning, Matt." His name being one of the first things coming out of your mouth this morning makes him smile, his day already made.

best friend!matt who... watches you cook breakfast, his heart swelling at the domestic scene.

Matt wants to see you in his kitchen every morning, not just on the days you stay over. He clearly wants something more with you, but he’s not sure if you feel the same way—he can’t risk losing such a valuable friendship over love. He’d rather love you silently, yearn for you in his head, and let you decide the pace.

He’s smiling at you when you turn around to set the plate of scrambled eggs and other breakfast food on the table, and you wonder how it would be if he liked you the way you liked him, if this’d be a normal morning for you. "Stop smiling at me like that. It’s creepy."

Your playful tone makes him laugh softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he responds with something cheesy but effective enough to make your face heat up. "Can’t help it. You look pretty in pink." He nods vaguely towards the hershey’s kisses t-shirt you’re wearing—his tee.

best friend!matt who... stays at home with you while his brothers go out to bring food.

Matt wraps an arm around your shoulders as he presses play on a horror movie. Something with zombies and survival. He’s not really watching it though—more so watching you. His eyes crinkle at the corners when you jump at a jumpscare, so immersed in the movie you don’t notice the way he’s staring at you.

His eyes sparkle with something more than platonic affection.

"Why’d you pick something like this if you were gonna be so jumpy about it?" He teases, voice soft in places he feels vulnerable about. His lopsided grin widens, showing his gums, as you shoot a playful glare his way.

"Am not! Why are you not getting startled? I think you’re the weird one." You nudge his side with your elbow. "Plus, zombies are something I can definitely imagine happening. It’s more realistic than horror movies with ghosts and the paranormal."

best friend!matt who... hears weird noises outside and doesn’t think much of it—until someone lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

You’re about half-way into the movie when Matt hears loud crashing outside, but he chalks it up to whatever excuse his brain makes up, not wanting to get up from beside you. It could be from the movie. Even if it wasn’t, it’s none of his business-

That’s until someone screams, loud and pained, echoing down the street.

You both freeze, your hand slowly pausing the movie, smiles gone. When you turn around to face Matt, you can see the confusion and slight fear in his eyes mirroring yours despite the way his arm stays protectively around your shoulders.

He stands up and moves towards the window before you can protest. And when he peers out into the street—all the blood drains from his face. He stays frozen for a while, and when he looks back at you, you’re not sure if you want to know what he saw outside.

best friend!matt who... loves his brothers a lot and worries about their safety.

Matt rushes back towards the couch to retrieve his phone, his movements frantic, hands beginning to tremble slightly as he navigates to his phone app. He dials Nick’s number and holds his phone to his ear, a cold dread washing over him as he waits for the sound of his brothers’ voices on the other line.

"Hey... what’s wrong? What was outside?" You gently touch his arm, concern etched onto your features, eyebrows furrowing.

But before he can reply, Nick’s voice comes from the other side of the line, and Matt’s attention shifts to the phone call, relief bringing some color to his face as he talks to his brothers.

So you decide to check it out yourself, curious as to why he’s acting the way he is. When you peek out the window, you can barely believe what you’re seeing.

Outside is a mayhem; people lay beneath pools of blood, half-eaten. The sight is something straight out of a zombie movie. And it’s enough to make bile rise up your throat.

Ain’t no fucking way.

best friend!matt who... kills a human—an undead one—for the first time to protect the both of you.

You jump at the sound of a loud thud downstairs (where the front door is). You look at Matt, wide eyed, seeing your expression reflecting back at you. He’s probably as scared as you are, considering you both were unprepared for this (whatever is happening outside).

Matt’s the one who approaches the door first, followed by you, both of you being as quiet as you can. But when he looks into the peephole, he recognizes the woman outside his door as one of his neighbors—an older lady who’s always been sweet towards him and his brothers, and he quickly opens the door.

Big mistake.

Because she was already transforming into one of those creatures, contorting and groaning. And it all happened so quickly; the woman rushing towards the both of you, Matt tackling her down. Before either of you could register what was happening, she was already on the floor, head bashed, a bloody lamp in Matt’s white-knuckled, trembling hand.

And that’s the moment you realize that this is your reality now.

best friend!matt who... starts a journal admits the chaos.

It’s not until two weeks of survival and witnessing traumatizing scenes daily that Matt finds himself beginning to write small entries in a black notebook he’d taken during a supply run.

It really helps when the days seem to stretch, zombies shuffling and groaning just a simple background noise now, being alert and always on survival mode becoming the norm. It’s like he escapes reality for just a couple of minutes when he writes about his day—mostly about you—in his journal.

He never allows you to look through it though. Saying he’d rather throw himself at a horde of zombies than let you read what he’d written. And you’d, obviously, tease him about it. You’re still best friends, after all.

But you’d never force him to let you read it. You find it endearing that he keeps a journal, to be honest. Your feelings for him seem to grow bigger each day you’re with him in this hellhole the world has become.

best friend!matt who... confesses to you impulsively because he’s terrified of what the future holds.

You’re on one of your supply runs, carefully navigating through a small convenience store and taking whatever was left on the shelves.

Most of the food had either gone bad or emptied, so canned food is the only thing you two can survive on. Oh, and let’s not forget the breakfast bars. You’ve almost tried every flavor by now.

But just as you and Matt are about to leave, you hear one too many moans and groans close by—too close for comfort.

Fuck.

That’s a horde, isn’t it?

Your head snaps towards Matt and he’s already holding up his finger to his lips, silently indicating for you to be quiet. And you two barely make it towards the place you’re staying in without being seen or heard.

As you’re catching your breath and sitting on one of the barely usable chairs, Matt suddenly confesses something that makes your heart stop and beat again faster than it did before.

"I love you."

best friend!matt who... has his first time with you in a run down apartment, months after the outbreak.

Matt’s hands are gentle on your body, despite the roughness of his skin, caressing your curves like he’s worshipping you. His kisses are gentle, too. Mapping up your body with his lips like he can’t get enough of you, like he was starving for you. Which isn’t too far from the truth.

He’s probably fantasized about this more times than he can count—just not in this type of a scenario.

And when he enters you, he almost sobs at the feeling, eyes tearing up. It’s like a warm, safe haven inside of you; a place he never wants to leave from. His voice is soft and soothing, whispering sweet nothings, kissing you softly, while his hips roll in a languid rhythm against yours.

He’s not just fucking you—he’s making love to you.

He’s memorizing and burning every little gasp and moan leaving your lips in his memory, the way your back arches, the way your breasts bounce with his thrusts, the way your hips move in rhythm with him-

God, if he could relive this moment over and over again he would.

best friend!matt who... hates seeing animals and toddlers turned into an undead.

Matt grimaces as he watches a baby crawl outside, obviously having been turned into a zombie judging by the way it’s moving despite the injuries inflicted on its small body. He immediately averts his gaze away from the scene, trying not to think about how scared it must’ve been.

And it’s even worse when he sees cats and kitties turned into zombies, limbs missing—or having become complete carcasses on the streets. It only makes him become more aware of the cruel reality of this apocalypse.

Whenever he comes across a dog, dead or undead, it reminds him of Trevor. And then his family.

God, he misses his family so much.

He always wonders if his brothers are okay, if his parents are alright, if Trevor is fine. He misses his friends, too.

But at least, you’re here with him. He wouldn’t know what to do otherwise. He’d probably have given up a long time ago, maybe even turned into one of those creatures you can barely call human anymore.

best friend!matt who... tries to save you and gets bit instead.

"Fuck- Matt... Matt! Your shoulder!" Your eyes widen in horror and your voice cracks as your eyes dart between his face and shoulder. He had gotten bit while you two were fighting off a few zombies, almost outnumbered.

It pains you that it was partially your fault for getting distracted and nearly getting tackled down by some rotting flesh and bones that Matt got bit while trying to save you.

Matt tries not to show his panic and the way his stomach dropped when he realized he’d been bit. His face pales as he breathes deeply, trying to keep his mind clear and make up a plan to keep you safe without being there for you.

He sits down heavily and checks his shoulder, grimacing at the gnarly bite mark.

"Fuck- Okay. We have to- We have to think of something." Matt’s breathing had become slightly shaky and deeper, like he was trying to compose himself. Like he was trying not to listen to the hunger settling like a dead weight in his stomach.

The virus is obviously spreading quickly—probably due to the bite mark being on his shoulder and too close to his brain.

best friend!matt who... says his goodbye with a smile.

Matt watches you wipe the blood off his bite mark with a clean cloth you found, your hands trembling but gentle, eyes watery as you try not to break down. "It’s okay- We don’t have to think of something. You’ll be fine... We just need to clean it up- And, and everything will be fine-"

"You know it’s not fine!" Matt snaps, immediately regretting it when you flinch. His expression turns pained as he pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent deeply like he’s memorizing it. "I’m sorry..." He whispers into your hair, his voice thick with emotion, a painful lump forming in his throat.

"You have to survive... without me." He murmurs, closing his eyes briefly, like it physically pains him to know he’s leaving you alone to survive in the hell the world has become. "I’ll hurt you if you stay with me. And that scares me more than anything. And honestly? I’d rather you kill me before I turn into one—but I don’t want you to live with the fact that you killed me either."

best friend!matt who... tries his best to resist the temptation—but your words aren’t helping him at all.

It’s been a few hours and the virus is now spread almost all the way through his body. And Matt’s mouth salivates as he stares down at the exposed skin of your neck. The hunger for flesh is eating him alive, his stomach growling audibly, vision turning foggy.

You’re sleeping, completely trusting and unaware of Matt’s inner turmoil, your head on his uninjured shoulder, holding his hand tightly even in your sleep like you’re afraid he’d disappear if you let go.

Matt’s jaw clenches so tightly it aches as he looks away reluctantly, trying his best not to focus on the urge to feed.

Just then, you stir, and lift your head up from his shoulder, gazing up at his face with a sleepy expression. "Baby..." You lift a hand up to cup his cheek and Matt’s mind blanks.

He almost bites your hand.

But thankfully, he snaps out of it and pulls back so quickly he hits the back of his head against the wall behind himself. His expression is one of horror from what he almost did, and that’s when you mumble, "You can bite me... you know?"

best friend!matt who... bites you after you convince him to and holds your hand as your bodies slowly succumb to the virus, but despite it all, there’s a smile on both your faces.

After many desperate words and reassurances later, Matt finally gives in and bites your neck, tears in his eyes, already feeling guilty for what he just did. But you only smile at him weakly, cupping his face as you place a soft kiss on his slightly chapped lips.

"It’s okay, baby. I told you everything will be fine. I love you." You whisper, voice heavy with tears. You hold his hand, sitting beside him, head on his shoulder as you wait for the inevitable. You’d rather become a zombie than survive another day without him.

"I love you too. So much..." Matt whispers back, voice hoarse, barely holding onto the last bit of humanity left in him as his thumb brushes against the back of your hand.

And the last human memory you both have is smiling at each other, as you sit there in the wrecked apartment, waiting for it to end—and begin.

"Uh, yeah... I think there were survivors living here judging by the supplies left behind... But I don’t see any humans, matter of fact, I think the area around here is clear." A geared up soldier speaks into his radio, eyeing the place. His gaze drops to the floor where a black hardback notebook lay, almost unscathed except for a few drops of blood seeped into the cover.

He hesitates before tentatively picking the notebook up, turning it around and inspecting it curiously. When he opens it, he sees entries dated from early on in the outbreak.

Day 14: It’s been 14 days since the outbreak... The signal is fucked up and I can’t even call Nick and Chris or mom and dad. God, I wonder if Nate is okay... I hope they’re all okay. But it’s starting to feel like nothing is. I’m glad she’s with me though, but I don’t know if I can protect her when I can feel my anxiety eating me alive every day.

Day 17: I told her I’ve loved her since we were kids and she said she loves me back... But I’m scared of what the future holds. I’m scared I’ll lose her—or myself—one of these days. I’m fucking terrified of the idea of being incapable of protecting her. So I have to stay alive. For her. And protect her from whatever the fuck is happening.

Day 24: I miss my brothers... It’s pathetic but I’ve been crying a lot lately. We haven’t been apart for this long, especially under this kind of a circumstance. And I fucking miss mom and dad and Trevor. Sometimes I wish we were in Boston so I’d at least be with them even if the world turned upside down.

Day ???: I know I haven’t been updating this notebook consistently, but me and my girl just had our first time and even though the world outside is destroyed I wouldn’t have it any other way. God... The way she felt and the way she sounded, I could replay that moment over and over again if I could. I’m just... glad that at least she’s with me. That I’m not alone right now.

Day ... : Fuck... I can’t believe how careless I was. She’s smiling at me even though her eyes are tearing up. I could feel her hands shaking when she wiped the blood off the bite mark on my shoulder... I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared. I’m trying not to show it though. But I can feel myself losing control, I can feel it spreading through me, the virus. I don’t want to hurt her. Please, God, don’t let anything happen to her.

Droplets of blood stained the next page, making it harder to read as the ink was smudged in places. It seems to be from the same day as the last entry seeing that there is no date, and the last few words are written so haphazardly it doesn’t look like words anymore, just scribbles.

I bit her. She asked me to and I just... Fuck... She’s sitting beside me right now, curled into my side. My vision is slowly turning red and I can feel myself rotting from the inside. I can barely write, let alone control my hand. I’m so hungry... But I’ll protect her. Just need more time... I can’t turn before she does... I can’t...

The soldier reads the entries quietly—solemnly—his heart aching for the person who the journal belonged to. It must’ve been difficult choosing between protecting their partner and hunger, he thinks.

He stuffs the journal in his backpack, unable to leave it in the rundown building. But just when he slings it back over his shoulder, he hears groaning accompanied by shuffling feet against concrete outside.

So, he quietly walks towards the source of what sounds like a couple of zombies, his hand going to his gun in case something pops up.

But then his hand freezes close to his gun holster, blinking, when he sees the scene outside.

The soldier can’t believe his eyes.

There are two zombies, walking side by side—but the strange thing is the way they seem to be holding hands.

Could they possibly be...?

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