dantakeyoman

[dantakeyoman]

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 | 𝐣. 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡

♡ 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 "𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐩" 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧! 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * "𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓, 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆. 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒆 '𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏' 𝒇𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚." *

♡ 𝐚/𝐧: 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐨-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚, 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐨-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝...

♡ 𝐚/𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐢𝐭, 𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭), 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬

"𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 a seat," Graves ordered, roughly shoving Valeria into a chair before turning to you, "All right, how do you two know each other?"

"Know is a strong word," you scoffed, turning your back on the woman, not wanting to look at her.

"Las palabras fuertes son importantes. Nuestras palabras son nuestras valor, no?" She smirked.

She'd gotten on your last nerve.

"Cállate la puta boca, eres una pedazo de puta mierda! Te mataré!" You shouted, storming over to attack her.

"(y/n)-" Soap and Rodolfo quickly ran over, holding you back from the woman while she smiled in your face.

"Tranquilo, commandante," Rudy tried to sooth, already predicting where this conversation was going to head.

"I'm cool! I'm cool!" You shook their arms off, taking a few steps back.

Graves brought Valeria back to the Los Vaqueros base, where you, him, Soap, Ghost, and Rodolfo were to interrogate her.

But it was abundantly clear to everyone there that you were in no condition to even be in the same room as that woman.

"Vamos," you spat, resting your hands in your vest, "Tell them."

"I don't take orders anymore," she denied, unphased, "Even the dogs in Las Almas know not to bark at me."

"Este puta perra--She's ex-military," you scoffed, "We served together."

"Different squads, same unit," she sneered, leaning back in her chair, "You were the wild ones, eh? Los Vaqueros."

She rolled her eyes..

"My squad was clean cut señores y señoras..."

"Until the raid on the son of La Araña...te recuerdas?" You smiled, sarcastically.

"Yo recuerdo perfecto," she smiled right back.

"Her team was told to cordon off the city to keep out La Araña's enforcers and prevent the bloodshed," you explained for the others in the room.

"That's exactly what we did," she cooed.

"You kept out his enforcers, because you were his enforcers, eh?" You snapped, brows furrowed.

"He was escorted to the mountains without incident," she taunted, "Also to prevent bloodshed."

"He was supposed to go to prison," Rodolfo corrected.

"So you killed him..." Graves roughly gripped her shoulder, walking around behind her, "...and then you took over."

"I created a power vacuum...and I filled it," she spat, "Las Almas needs me."

"Las Almas needs soldiers, not sicarios," you growled, squatting down to her level, "Y usted? You disgrace all of our fallen brothers and sisters."

She rolled her eyes, her bored and uninterested face only fueling your anger.

She was one of you.

Maybe not a Vaquero but part of the army, and she condoned the slaughter of her fellow brothers and sisters in arms.

It was something you couldn't stand for.

Something you wouldn't stand for.

"Why're you doin' this?" Graves asked, crossing his arms at his chest.

"You tell me..." She turned to face him, "You're the contractor, no? What you don't do, your competitors will."

"You're a narco harboring a terrorist," Ghost corrected.

"Terrorism is good for business. It's insurance," she clarified.

"The fuck does that even mean?" You angrily scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Puede sacar a la puta cabeza de culo por un segundo!" She shouted, "Puta madre, (y/n)!"

She stared you dead in the eyes, her gaze cold and hardened.

"As long as there is a war on terrorism, there will be no real war on drugs. To find your so-called terrorist and your missiles, you need me."

Her dead stare suddenly shifted into a patronizing pout.

"To prevent bloodshed."

'Nope.'

"I'm not doing this," you denied, grabbing your gun, "She's out of her fuckin' mind."

"(y/n)-" "No, Rudy!" You exclaimed, pointing at the devil in the chair, "You know we can't trust her! She's gonna fuck every single one of us over!"

Valeria tutted, not hiding her amusement in the slightest.

"Pobrecita," she cooed, "I don't think you realize that you don't have a choice..."

You shot her a deadly glare, and she pressed harder.

"Like I said before, amiga....you need me."

You were so angry, you couldn't speak.

You were so angry, you had to physically turn yourself and start walking before you pounced on her.

"Tell Rita I said hello...."

"That's enough, Valeria! You've made your point!" Rudy exclaimed, his sentence punctuated by the slam of the door.

'I'm gonna kill that bitch.'

"𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 on the rig..." Soap reported, the large oiler coming into view through the fog.

"All right! That's our target. Shadows 1 and 2, push to your hook points," Graves ordered, "Let's invite ourselves in."

"All stations, ship is visual," Ghost added through comms.

"Copy, prep for assault. Stay on comms," Graves confirmed.

The Americans were quick to trust Valeria's word, her intel pointing towards an abandoned oil rig in the middle of nowhere.

The cartel was using it as a cargo dead-drop, and offered up space to Hassan to store his missile.

So you, 141, and Shadow Company split into four teams, each taking a different angle at the rig and additional ship.

"You all reit, hen?" Soap asked, voice low so he didn't alert the others.

Your mind was off somewhere else, thinking, quite intently if he took the tightness of your face as any hint.

But being distracted like that, especially out here, was a death sentence.

He smiled, tapping his finger on your forehead, "We need that head doon 'ere."

An easy guess would be it's about Valeria, but he wasn't one to pry so a guess is what it would have to stay.

You spared him a small smile of thanks, giving a firm nod and getting your head back in the game.

"If Valeria told the truth," Graves started up, completely oblivious to your exchange, "we board, clear, and disarm that missile."

"And if she's lying?" You cocked a brow.

He scoffed, smiling, "God help her."

"God help us all," Soap agreed.

"Be ready for anything..." You warned, turning to glance at the rig, "This could be a trap."

The boat suddenly came to a choppy halt, the team finally reaching the hook points.

Graves and a Shadow shot up the grapples, you and Soap keeping your guns trained on the overhead in case of an ambush.

"Good hooks," Graves approved, turning to you and the Scot, "Up and at 'em."

The two of you clicked in, pressing the button to get pulled up the rope.

'Que Dios nos ayude...'

When you touched down on the top, Graves had already taken out a guard, and the four of you proceed to clear two rooms full of them before making it to the center of the rig

"We need to move fast," Graves directed to comms, "All Shadows, force out! I want eyes on that container, now!"

"Two copies. Moving!" A Shadow answered.

"Hostiles on the bridge!" You reported, shooting at the guards on the other side.

Now that they knew you were here, it looked like it was going to be a fire fight.

"We gotta roll!" Graves exclaimed, quickly moving down the steps to the main deck.

Suddenly, a huge, red flare shot into the sky, exploding with a huge boom while sirens blared on the rig.

A huge container was revealed on the helipad, its top slowly opening.

"Shadow-1, Ghost, visual on flares from the rig! What's your status, over?" Ghost called.

"Ghost, they're signaling the ship! They're gonna launch that missile!" Soap shouted, the two of you ducking behind a large crate.

"It's first stage! There's still time!" Graves exclaimed, "All Shadows, all Shadows, missile is on the helipad!"

While Soap provided some cover, you turned and shot at the gas tanks on the deck above, blowing up everything within the vicinity.

"Soap! (y/n)! Hit the stairs! Flank 'em!" Graves ordered.

"Grenade!" He shouted, quickly grabbing you by your vest and yanking you to safety.

Your eyes went wide as he dragged you away, an explosion going off right were you once stood.

'Holy shit...'

That could've been you.

"Thanks," you panted, repaying by taking out the two guards coming up on his six. 

"Always a pleasure, bon," he grinned, plowing a path up the staircase.

The two of you made it up to the third deck , taking out the four guards stationed there, when Graves came up behind you two.

"Actual, this is Shadow-1," he held his comm, "Rig is secure. Moving on the container now."

"Rodger that. Confirm when the objective is neutralized," Shepard affirmed.

"Out the door ahead should be a stair to the fourth deck," you reported.

"Then, let's get on it," Graves nodded, taking up the front and leading you two back outside.

The three of you went up to the next deck, the container sitting dead in the center, nice and pretty.

Soap moved on it first, opening it to reveal that it was empty.

'Por Dios...'

"Where are th'controls?" 

"On that damn ship," Graves cursed, walking over to the railing that overlooked the ship below.

"Actual, we got a problem. Missile is armed, and the controls are somewhere on the ship."

"You have your orders, son...Stop that launch."

Graves sighed, turning to the Shadow that just ran up to join you.

"3-1, take overwatch," he ordered, attaching a hook line to slide down, "Soap, (y/n), you're with me. We're moving to that ship."

"Yup yup," 3-1 affirmed.

"Ladies first," Soap stepped to the side, leaving the rope to you.

You rolled your eyes, gripping it tight and crossing your legs before sliding down, landing in a speed boat.

"All stations! Visual on the missile controls!" Ghost exclaimed as the two touched down in the boat, "I say again, missile controls are on the bridge!"

"Copy that!" Graves confirmed, moving to alert the driver, "Let's go! Let's go! Let's move out!"

He grabbed his comm, "Ghost, this is 0-1! Back in the water, inbound to your position."

"Solid copy! We're taking effective fire! The LZ will be hot!" Ghost affirmed.

"Rodger!" He turned to you and Soap, "Once we're on deck, we push to the bridge fast! We secure those controls. We stop this missile!"

"How do we board?!" You asked, loudly, over the rushing water.

"Take the ramp!" He turned to the driver, "Hold tight, you two!"

You ducked your head, bracing for impact as the boat crashed full speed into the ship's ramp, flipping over.

'Fuck me...'

Your entire body was thrown to the ground, but you forced your eyes open, ignoring the buzz in your head.

"Let's have ourselves a gunfight!" Graves exclaimed, jumping on deck.

You and Soap picked yourselves up off the ground, following the commander.

The already pelting rain had began raining harder, and the rocking of the ship was causing  the shipping containers to slide all over the deck.

"AQ's movin in!" The comms erupted with Ghost's voice.

"Missile controls are on the bridge! We have to stop the launch!" Graves shouted, "Let's move out!"

Running in, three bullets flew past you, but you were quick to take out its source, which was peeking out from an awning on your left.

'That was close.'

"Containers are the only cover we have!" Soap exclaimed.

"Don't get caught between 'em!" Graves warned.

You grabbed two grenades off your hip and pulled their pins, tossing them over the containers to land in the in-between where the guards were hiding.

It took out a good majority of them.

"Good shit!" Graves commended, pushing forward now that the path was clear.

"Soap, take the ones up on the rail!" You called, shifting left and taking out two stragglers.

"Onnit!"

You took the route closest to the taffrail, which was a straight shot to a staircase that let to the next deck. 

"They've close off the bridge entry!" Ghost reported.

"Secure the deck and we'll blow the door!" Graves stated, running up the the right stairs.

Quickly, you made your way up the second set, converging with Graves and Soap there.

You were about to open the door, when Graves handed you and Soap a charge each.

"Check it. Controls are internal."

You nodded, attaching it to the left side, while Soap attached it to the right, and then moved out the way.

"Stand back!" He warned, "This is Shadow-1. Going explosive on bridge entry."

The door was suddenly blown off its hinges, and the three of you rushed in.

Graves and Soap took left and right, completely sweeping the room of hostiles in one go, and meeting up with Ghost in the middle.

Eventually, you all pushed up to the top and final deck, entering the control room.

"All right. Eyes ont he controls, tappin' in," Graves instructed, rushing over to the panel, "C'mon baby, c'mon baby, c'mon..."

But his attempt was unsuccessful.

"Fuuuuck. We can't disarm it."

"Why?" Ghost whipped his head around.

"It's too late."

"Thur's no abort code?" Soap asked.

"Yeah, well the window's closed on that, boys..." He sighed, "Gold Eagle, Actual, this is Shadow-1. Missile's in boost phase about to burn, how copy?"

"Solid copy, Shadow. If we can't disarm, then we detonate."

"Rodger that, Actual. Stand by..." Graves groaned, "Soap, get on the controls. We're gonna have to do this together. Now the clock's tickin' so we gotta move."

Soap gave a firm nod, opening up the control box, "Am in."

"Actual, we're on the con, what's the order?" Graves asked.

"Input the DAL code and let the payload strike," Shepard answered.

"Whot's a DAL code?"

"Detonate After Launch..."

"We're gonna take out the oil rig with the missile."

"The Shadows are still on there," you reminded

"All Stations, clear the rig now. I say again, clear the rig!" Ghost exclaimed, holding his comm.

"Roger. What's the count?" 3-1 asked.

"One minute," Graves answered. 

"Copy, on the move!"

"All right, now this..." 

Graves and Soap worked together, successfully changing the missile's trajectory from New Orleans to the oil rig

"Here we go!" Graves grinned, "All stations prepare for the BOOM!!"

"Missile away..." Ghost sighed, the four of you watching as it deployed from it's container.

It shot straight up, before changing direction and slamming right into the rig, exploding it a huge, blinding ball of fire.

'Mierda...'

Graves laughed, utterly pleased.

"Look at that big bad beautiful shit!"

"Steamin' bloody Jesus..." Soap stared, amazed.

"Gold Eagle, Actual, Shadow-1. Good hit. Good hit. Missile and rig destroyed," Graves reported.

"Copy that, Shadow-1. Good work. Get off that X and go home. Soap, Ghost, (l/n), thanks for a job well done," Shepard commended.

"Roger that, Actual," Soap nodded.

"We're RTB," Ghost stated, turning to walk out the room with Graves following.

You let out a long sigh, raking a tired hand through your hair.

"I need a drink..."

Soap smiled, tossing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into a tight side hug.

"You an' me both, bon," he agreed, the two of you walking out side by side.

You could feel the heath of his hand seeping in through your arm, and spreading to that whole side.

He had never done anything like this before.

Passing a cup of coffee and touching your hand? Sure.

Soft shoulder pats every time you get a clean kill? Fine.

Using endearing nicknames on missions? Alright.

Saving you a seat next to him every infil and exfil? Okay...

...

Maybe you were overthinking it.

He's probably just being friendly.

Thinking that way is unprofessional in the first place.

But as the two of you walked out the room, you pressed into his side, you couldn't help but feel like those thoughts had some truth to them.

𝐀𝐒 your jeep pulled up to the entrance of the Vaquero base, it was stopped by a group of Shadows standing as guards.

'Qué coño?'

Rivera and Suarez were supposed to be on guard duty this week.

You stepped out the car, Graves and a couple more Shadows filing out of the one in front of you.

"What's this?" You asked, brow cocked as you stepped forward.

"This is the immediate future," he answered, taking a step towards you, "Now, step away from the gate."

"What?" Soap asked, him and Ghost getting out of the car, as well.

"You heard me."

"Are you serious?" You asked, still in disbelief, "This is my base."

"It's not a base," he corrected, "This is a sizable covert facility. And I admire it....so I'm takin' it."

You cocked your head to the side, shocked by the man's audacity.

"You all have been relieved. Thank you for your service."

"No, no, no, no. I don't answer to you," you shook your head, tone dangerously low.

"Didn't Valeria say that?" He cocked a brow, "Now that makes me wonder what else I don't know about your affiliation with a drug lord?"

"What the fuck did you just say to me, güero..." You spat, tongue in cheek as you took a step forward.

But Soap quickly came over, resting a hand on your shoulder, "You're out of line, Graves."

"Don't do that. Don't...do that," Graves shut down, "No one needs to get hurt here."

"Are you threatenin' us?" Ghost chimed.

"Soldier, I don't make threats. ...I make guarantees. So let's not do this."

"I'm callin Shepard," Soap glared, turning around and walking back to the car.

"General Shepard sends his regards. He told me y'all wouldn't take this well."

"He knows about this?" Ghost asked, surprised.

"He's put me in command of this operation from here on out," Graves answered, "So, y'all need to stand down. It's time to let the pros finish this."

He turned to you.

"And why the hell are we talking like this i some kind of a negotiation? It's not. I've got my orders, and now you have yours-"

"Who the fuck do you think you are, cabrón?" You scoffed, "My men are inside!"

"I'm afraid not," he corrected.

Your cocked a brow.

"Your men have been....detained."

...

'Rita.'

Without hesitation, you went in to attack him, but he held up the butt of his gun, about to knock you out.

Quickly, you weaved his hit, the Shadows behind him taking aim on Soap and Ghost behind you.

"Graves, what the fuck!" Soap shouted, grabbing a nearby Shadow and using him as a human shield.

You dropped to a crouch, taking the man by surprise and sweeping his legs.

His back hit the ground hard, but he was quicker than you expected, and shot you before you could pounce on him.

"(y/n)!" Soap shouted, eyes wide as you dropped.

"Arrgh!" You winced, clutching your side as you flipped yourself over, army crawling under the car.

"Shit!" Graves cursed, "Someone get 'er on the other side!"

A pair of black boots quickly moved to cut you off on the other side, so you pulled out your tac knife, repeatedly stabbing it into his foot.

He screamed and dropped to the ground, and you rolled out the side, much to your agony.

"Fuuuck," you groaned, pressing hard into your side to stop the bleeding.

You could feel yourself loosing blood.

"Johnny! (y/n)! Get outta there!" Ghost exclaimed, noticing that Graves was back up, gun drawn.

You tried to sit up, but gasped in pain, your body lighting up like a live wire.

"Soap, get her!"

Soap pulled you up from off the ground, pressing your back against his chest and crossing his arms over you, throwing himself over a divider to slide down the hill on his back.

Some of the shadows still tried to shoot, but with the two of you now covered by the dark, there was no point.

He hit ground roughly, you tumbling out off his arms.

"Fuck," he hissed, clutching his bloody shoulder as he picked himself up, "C'mon, bonnie. We gotta move."

He pulled you up again, his nerves spiking when he saw just how out of it you were already, barely able to hold up your head.

'Shit.'

"Stay wit' me, bon," he panted, throwing your arm over his shoulder and starting off down the hill.

"Am gonna getchu help."

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[dantakeyoman]

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 | 𝐣. 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡

♡ 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 "𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐩" 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧! 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * "𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓, 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆. 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒆 '𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏' 𝒇𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚." *

♡ 𝐚/𝐧: 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐨-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚, 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐨-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝...

♡ 𝐚/𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐢𝐭, 𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭), 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑾𝑶

"𝐍𝐎 mames!" Rita exclaimed, eyes wide as she dropped her brush on the ground, completely taken aback. 

You nodded, almost unable to believe it true yourself.

"You had him in your hands! Why isn't that coward dead?!"

"International law, Riti," you shrugged, "Iran is not at war with us, so we had no right to execute him."

You sighed, roughly grabbing your toiletry bag and plopping yourself down on your bunk.

"We couldn't hurt a hair on that bald, bastard's head. It would've been an act of war."

After your exfil from the river, you, Soap, and Ghost traveled about two klicks to cartel territory, where the Americans had tracked down Hassan.

Everything had gone swimmingly, which, in all honesty, should've been your first warning.

Because once you had him in your custody and interrogated him, it was revealed by Laswell that you had no right to hold him.

And that killing Hassan would guarantee war between Al Mazrah and North America.

"Damn," Rita sighed, walking over and sitting down next to you.

Your face showed that you were clearly beating yourself up for what happened.

And like the good friend she was, she decided to take your mind off it by switching to a more intriguing topic.

"Y'know...." She started with a smile, "That American man with the weird hair was eyeing you today."

You perked at the mention of his name,

"Soap?" You cocked a brow, "He's not American. Es de Escocia."

"Tomayto, tomato," she rolled her eyes, "Either way, he was looking at you like he's never seen a méxicana before."

"I doubt it," you shook your head, "He's traveled the world. He's probably seen women all over."

"Eh..." She shrugged, a small smirk playing at her lips, "Maybe he wants some of that méxicana. Who knows?"

"Rita!" You burned with embarrassment.

"What?!" She exclaimed with a smile, "I didn't say anything..."

"I'm going on a walk," you sighed, cutting the conversation short as you stood up, slipping on some slippers.

"Buenas noches~" She cooed, watching you make your way to the door.

You shot her a playful glare, flipping her off before taking your leave, shutting the door behind you.

She smiled to herself, deciding to start up her nightly routine.

"Yo tambien te quiero..." 

𝐒𝐎 concerned with Rita's nonsense, you failed to remember just how drafty the base got at night, cursing yourself for forgetting your sweater in the room.

"Esta noche no podría ser peor..." You grumbled, hugging yourself tight.

Walking through the barracks hall, you could hear the rustling of your men on the other sides of the doors.

Some of them were talking about the events of the day, some of them were saying their nightly prayers...

Some of them even sharing a toast to Rodriguez and Vasquez, your fallen.

Your face fell at the reminder.

Rita had told you countless times that what happened wasn't your fault, but you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt.

When you caught Hassan, you thought that would've atoned for their deaths, but you couldn't even keep him.

They died for nothing.

"Whoa thir, bonnie. Ye think much harder and you'll 'ave steam comin' outta yer ears," Soap smiled, somehow in front of you.

"Mierda!" You exclaimed, eyes wide as your instinct took over, punching something that fell like a brick wall.

'Where the fuck did he come from?!'

He groaned, holding his side, "You hit...fuckin' hard."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," you winced, guiltily, as you moved closer to inspect it, carefully moving his hand.

"It was just so dark and you scared the hell outta me."

 You lifted up his tank top, trying your best to check for a forming bruise in the dim light.

It didn't look too bad, especially for you punching him so hard.

But that was probably because he was so ripped, the muscle absorbed the fucking hit.

'Jesus Christ...'

"Was thinkin' of tellin' you a joke aboot how much you take ma breath away, but I think yer a lil' preoccupied at th'moment," he looked down at you, a cocky grin spreading on his lips at your staring.

You scoffed, cheeks burning as you roughly pulled his shirt down, taking a step back.

"What're you doing out of bed, Sergeant?" You asked, unamused, as you crossed your arms at your chest.

He smiled, your words pretty much going in one ear and out the other as he got the chance to get a good look at you.

And fuck......a look you were.

You exchanged the the tac gear and cargos for a tank top and shorts, your curves now on display quite nicely.

...

His words.

"Couldn't sleep, so I went out tah get th'lay o' th'land," he answered, cocking a brow, "Whit were you doin' out 'ere all by yerself?"

You sighed, commending yourself for even being able to understand him so far.

"I needed some air, so I went on a walk. And speaking of..." You started up your pace from before, stepping around the large man to continue your stroll.

You caught him by surprise, but he quickly turned around, catching up to walk in step with you.

"Got somethin' oan yer mind, hen?" He asked, "Y'know am a great ear."

...

'So much for understanding...'

"What is hen?" You cocked a brow, confused, "You callin' me a chicken?"

His chest rumbled with a soft laugh, before his eyes found yours again.

"No, am not callin' you a chicken," he assured with a smile, "Hen's whot you call a nice woman...or at least whot we called 'em back 'ome."

"Escocia?" You asked, thoughtlessly switching to Spanish.

He grinned, happy to finally understand something in the foreign language.

And happy to hear you speak it.

"Scotland, yeah," he nodded.

He wanted to incorporate some of your language in the conversation since you asked about his, but he just knew he was gonna fuck up the pronunciation.

"I think ca-bro-n s'a sort o' similar thing in Spanish."

...

You couldn't help but chuckle, quickly trying to muffle it to be polite.

Was he serious?

'Adorable...'

"Whot's so funny?" He asked, confused, and slightly worried.

Shit.

He fucked it up.

"What do you think cabrón means, Soap?" You managed to smile through your laughter, the sight making something weight in his stomach.

"You wer sayin' it oan th'field. I thought it wos the word fur a man," he answered, almost at a pout.

"Hombre means man, cabrón means bastard," you clarified, holding back your giggles, "I was saying it on the field because I was calling the army a bunch of fucking bastards."

His eyes went wide, everything starting to make sense.

He was an idiot.

"I feel lek a numpty," he chuckled, shaking his head.

You smiled, subtly shifting your sights ahead so you wouldn't get caught staring.

Something about this man was so endearing, yet you couldn't put your finger on exactly what.

And, no matter how much you hated to say it, you could already see yourself spending more time with him.

"If you want, I can teach you a couple of words in Spanish," you started, turning to him sincerely.

"Enough to get you by, at least. And then in return, you can show me some Scottish words."

Realizing how it sounded, you quickly cleared your throat, turning on your professional voice to try and cover it up.

"So we can communicate better...mission-wise, of course."

But it was too late.

Soap's face was already lit up like a Christmas tree.

"I'd luv nothin' more," he smiled, looking into your eyes intensely.

The air went still, and you could feel a sudden building tension, one that grew larger and larger the longer you two shared each other's gaze.

Cheeks burning, you turned away, not wanting to see where that road would've taken you.

"All right, then," you sighed, "When should we begin?"

He smirked, giving you a polite shrug.

"No time lek th'present..."

"𝐋𝐀 Casa de Sin Nombre?" Soap asked as he looked down at the large mansion below, handing over the binoculars to Graves.

"No," you shook your head, "One of his Lugartenientes."

"A cartel lieutenant?" He corrected.

You smiled, giving him a nod of approval.

"Estás aprendiendo," you commended.

'And that was only after two days...'

You, Soap, Ghost, and Graves stood on the rooftop of a far away building, scouting the security of the mansion.

And by the looks of it, they were pulling no punches.

"My sources tell me all the VIPs in Las Almas will be there tonight. Some are invited, others are..."

"Volun-told...?" Graves finished.

"Pretty much," you agreed.

He nodded, resting his hands on his vest, "What's the meeting about?"

"Nosotros," you sighed, "Las Almas is burning, and they wanna know who lit the fire."

"Sin Nombre will be there, yeah?" Ghost asked, turning to you.

"No guarantees," you stated honestly, "But this is our best shot."

"Then we take it," Graves chimed, "I got enough Shadows here to take over the whole damn country."

You furrowed your eyebrows at the comment, snapping your head over to him.

"I would prefer if you didn't..." You warned, tone icy.

He sighed, putting his hands up in surrender.

"I'm just sayin', sugar...one house shouldn't be a problem."

"We need Sin Nombre alive," Ghost reminded.

"Then we need to meet him," Graves suggested, reluctantly.

"How?" Soap asked.

"Give 'em what they want," Graves stated, "Intel. They wanna know who's here? Let's tell 'em."

"In person?" You cocked a brow, skeptical.

"Correcto," he nodded, "Get one of us inside, find the boss...an' roll him up."

"A'll do it," Soap volunteered, brows furrowed.

"Estás un gringo," you dismissed, "You go in there, and they'll kill you."

"A'll take ma chances," he assured, turning to you.

He was already set on the idea the moment it came into his head, and he wanted you to know he could do this.

"We came 'ere tah stop a missile, let's stop it. I'll offer intel for a meet with Sin Nombre. And if he's there, we pounce."

You were backed against a wall.

And so far, it seemed like there was no other option.

'Tiene un deseo muerte...'

"Fine," you sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder, "But once you make it in, you'll need eyes and ears. So I'll go with you."

"I'll take over-watch," Ghost agreed, "Shadow circles the target in a helo."

"Rodger that," Graves nodded, suddenly rummaging through his breast-pocket.

In it was a patch with Shadow Company's insignia, which he handed to Soap.

"They are going to want proof...show 'em this."

Soap nodded, the two shaking has before Graves turned to walk off.

"Call me when you need me," he nodded, "And let's gear up and get after it."

"𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 on two armed at the front door," Ghost reported over comms, coincidentally, as you finished taking out the two on the inside.

"(y/n), how ya doin'?" Graves asked, slightly broken up by static.

"Estoy interior," you whispered.

"Goddamn," he approved, only understanding what you said through the cognate, "How'd you do that?"

"Violently," you grunted as you stowed the bodies behind a large vase, not wanting anyone who passed by to become suspicious of the two.

Just then, you heard a silenced gunshot from outside, your head snapping to the door.

"Visual on Soap," Ghost stated.

"Moment o' truth," Graves sighed.

"They see him?" You asked, nervous.

This could go very bad, very fast if he wasn't careful.

"They do now..."

The following silence had to have been the longest few seconds of your life.

You could practically feel your heart beating in your ears.

"......They're bringin' him in."

'Gracias a Dios.'

"Kid's got sand," Graves added.

"I'm gonna take position at the elevator. See you all on the other side. Out here," you stated, quickly moving to stand by the elevator, taking the position of one of the men you killed.

And as if on cue, the guards burst in through the doors, dragging Soap over to you.

"Dónde está el otro tipo?" One of them gruffly asked you, noticing that your "partner" was missing.

"El cabrón necesitaba el baño," you answered without a beat.

You noticed Soap's shoulders visibly relax at the sound of your voice, yet you couldn't do anything but hope the guards wouldn't notice.

You would have to talk to him about that later.

"Qué le jodan," he rudely scoffed, shoving Soap ahead and into you, "Toma a este gringo y se lo enseñas a Diego."

"Entendido," you forced out, biting back a sharp remark as you led the Scot into the elevator.

You pressed the button to shut the door, and then the one to the lowest floor, before taking a quick breath of relief.

'Esta misión me está quitando años de la vida...'

"Soap..." you pulled the bag off his head, his eyes going wide now that his suspicion was confirmed.

"(y/n)? How did you-?" "No time. You need to listen," you dismissed, quickly grabbing his cheeks, ensuring his attention stayed on you.

He was completely taken aback, already feeling the tips of his ears burning like he was a teenager again.

But he kept his mouth shut, doing as you said and listening intently.

"You give them good intel in there. Don't lie, tell them everything they want to know, or you will die here."

"Everythin'?" He asked, surprised.

"Everything," you firmly nodded, "Mexican Special Forces. American PMCs. Shadow Company. Phillip Graves. All truth."

He looked into your eyes, searching for any sort of insincerity, or falter in resolve.

But there was none.

"Even your name?"

You hesitated, about to answer when the elevator suddenly rang.

You quickly let go of him, turning as the door opened to be met by Diego.

One of El Sin Nombre's top sicarios.

Diego chuckled, getting a good look at the Scot.

"Este es?" He asked with a smirk, turning to you.

"Si, señor," you nodded.

He turned to face Soap, his smirk falling.

"You got a name, hawk?"

"They call me Soap."

"Qué coño se llama jabón?" Diego's chuckle turned into a laugh, a mocking one, "Let's go."

"I wanna see El Sin Nombre," Soap stated firmly.

Diego scoffed, turing to you to see if he was hearing right, "Quiere ver al jefe..."

He suddenly grabbed Soap by the collar, roughly pulling him in.

Your stomach dropped to your feet, and you discreetly hovered your hand over your gun, just in case.

Missiles be damned, you weren't gonna lose another comrade for nothing.

"You're only alive because you may have some information. And it better be good, güero, or I'm going to scalp that 'hawk off your fuckin' head."

Roughly, Diego let go of him, turning to walk down the hall.

"Get the fuck out of my elevator."

And just as Soap was about to leave, you brushed your hand with his, hoping you'd offer some comfort.

"Buena suerte, Soap," you whispered, staying back.

He smiled, giving you a firm nod, "A'll be okay."

You nodded back, shutting the doors of the elevator and taking a deep sigh, resting your back on the wall.

'I pray this works...'

𝐓𝐇𝐄 wait for Soap to return felt like eternity, and with every passing minute, you could feel the fear grow.

You were still on elevator duty, but now you guarded the one leading to the penthouse, as per the plan to exfil through the roof.

But with nothing to distract you, you could only think of the million ways the plan could go south.

'What's taking them so damn long?'

Fifteen minutes turned to twenty, and you began to lose your head.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck...." You cursed under your breath.

You would have to call in to Ghost soon.

"C'mon, Soap..."

And as if an answer to your prayers, the elevator rang opening to reveal Diego and Soap, the Scotsman still in one piece.

"This is where you wait...Soap," Diego shoved the man out the elevator, then turned to you, "Estaré en la ofrenda. Sin interrupciones."

"Si, señor," you nodded, grabbing Soap and pushing him up against the window, patting him down.

Once you were sure the elevator doors had closed and left, you dropped your shoulders.

"You're alive," you smiled, turning to him.

"(y/n)," he smiled back, "You too, hen."

He looked down, a smirk growing on his face as he noticed you were still mindlessly patting him down.

"Y'know," he grinned, "If ye wanted an excuse tah touch me, all ye 'ad to do was ask," he teased.

You scoffed, pushing him away and rolling your eyes, the glow of your cheeks hidden by your mask.

"Pendejo."

He chuckled, giving you a firm pat on the shoulder before getting back to the plan.

"El Sin Nombre's in the penthouse. Third floor," he reported.

"We'll need a keycard."

"Diego has it."

"Then you know what you gotta do," you slipped him a knife, which was quite large.

"Sweet."

"And this," you pulled out a mask, like yours but white, and handed it to him.

"Why a mask?" He asked, confused.

"Some people can't be seen with the cartel," you answered, "Comms are already hooked in."

You opened your channel.

"Radio check?"

"Got you," he affirmed.

"You're good. Let's head out," you turned, starting down the hallway, "Ghost, we're in."

"What've you got?" He asked.

"El Sin Nombre is in the penthouse. Third floor," Soap reported.

"Elevator's a straight shot. All we need is Diego's keycard," you added.

"Where's Diego?" Ghost asked.

"The ofrenda. Second floor," you answered, turning the corner that let to the outside deck, "Seein' anything, Lieutenant?"

"If you can scout a way to the roof, there's access to the penthouse," he replied.

"I'm headed upstairs either way," Soap chimed.

"Cuidado..." You warned, "You get caught there, or in the garage, guards'll shoot on sight."

"What's in the garage?"

"No idea," you shrugged, "But it's important to Diego."

"Find El Sin Nombre and let's get this done. Out here," Ghost called out

"𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 made, Soap!" You exclaimed in the comms, the sound of sirens overwhelming your voice, "Get your culo to the elevator, now!"

You peeked around the corner, getting eyes on three guards all heading your way.

So you quickly dropped them, turning back towards the hallway to see Soap incoming.

He'd managed to take out Diego and grab the key-card, but a couple of nosy guards came across the mess and caused a commotion.

Siccing the entire mansion on you two.

Soap ran past you and into the elevator, scanning the card while you covered his six.

"Ts'good, bonnie! Get in 'ere!" He hurried, holding the doors.

You turned around without skipping a beat, sliding in the elevator and letting him shut the door.

The two of you panted, taking the moment to catch your breaths,

It had been a long night.

"'ere we go," Soap sighed, watching the floor number on the panel climb.

"This is it," you smiled, the excitement in your stomach climbing the nearer you drew, "For years, El Sin Nombre corrupted this city, dragging it to hell."

You turned to Soap, your face more determined than he's ever seen.

"Tonight, we take it back."

He grinned, a sudden sense of pride taking him.

"Hace o muerte," he agreed, holding his gun at the ready as the elevator rang, its door opening.

"Órale!" you led, leaning back on a wall and checking the hallway, "Security checkpoint's up ahead!"

"How do we get through?" Soap asked, staying tight to your side.

"Trust me," you assured as the two of you reached the hallway, a door being the only exit.

You knocked loudly, switching on the safety of your gun.

"Qué carajo es esto?!" A man loudly shouted from the other side.

"Ese pedaso de mierda que buscamos!" You shouted back.

Reluctantly, the door opened, and you were quick to grab the man on the other side, slamming him up against the wall.

Using your gun, you pistol whipped him...and pistol whipped him...and pistol whipped him...and pistol whipped him...until he finally fell into a bloody, unconscious heap.

Soap was slightly surprised, especially when you switched off your safety and entered the room as if you didn't just beat a man to sleep.

'Holy shite...'

"Remind me never tah get on yer bad side, bonnie," he joked, following you in.

"Stay on my good and you won't have to worry," you teased, crouching next to a larger door within the office.

Tucking away your gun, you grabbed your camera out of your pocket, sliding it under the door to get eyes and ears inside.

"Let's put a name to the nameless," Soap smirked, pulling out the device to view the footage.

And when the static faded, all that could be seen was Valeria Garza, and some unidentified men around that called her Sin Nombre.

...

Valeria Garza.

'WHAT THE FUCK?!'

Your face was one of disbelief, but also anger, white, hot rage starting to seep through every pore.

"Whot's wrong, (y/n)?" Soap asked, your sudden and drastic change in emotion worrisome, "Whadid you see?"

"We have to move," you stated curtly, tapping into comms, "Graves, Sin Nombre is posing as a female sicaria. We're moving in. You set?"

"Check."

"Ghost?"

"Ready."

You turned to Soap as you stood up, face dead serious.

"Take her alive."

And without warning, you kicked open the door, guns blazing as you took out two of the guards.

You watched her escape out the back, and ran after her while Soap took care of the other two henches.

Her path led you to the balcony outside, where a ladder to the roof resided.

'She must've gone up it.'

"Bitch thinks she can get away from me..." You cursed, quickly ripping off your mask before climbing it.

"Down! Get down, now!" Graves ordered over the helo's intercom, circling the roof.

"No me arrodillo parra nadie, cabrón!" She shouted.

"Una bala te hará arrodillar," Graves threatened in his broken Spanish.

And Valeria, begrudgingly, complied, lowering to her knees and placing her hands behind her head.

"Ground team, you're clear to move in."

You and Soap walked over, the Scot detaining her while she stared at you, a shit-eating grin on her face.

"El Sin Nombre..." Soap tutted, forcing her hands behind her back.

"Me llamo Valeria," she bluntly corrected.

"Hiding in plain sight."

"Hiding?" She scoffed with a smile, "Estoy en todas partes, soldado."

Graves suddenly walked over, donning his own smirk.

"That's good. So are we," a Shadow came over, taking Valeria off Soap's hands and pulling her towards the helo, "Let's go."

But at its door, she turned around, shooting you the sharpest glare she could, your fists clenching in pure anger.

"Aye...(y/n)," Soap chimed, patting your shoulders with pride, "Qué pasa?"

You glared at the spot where she once stood, presence still there and mocking you.

"Valeria.......I know her."

#cod #call of duty #cod mwii #soap cod #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap #soap x reader #johnny #johnny x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish x reader

[dantakeyoman]

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 | 𝐣. 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡

♡ 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 "𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐩" 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐦𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧! 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * "𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒂 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓, 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆. 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒆 '𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏' 𝒇𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚." *

♡ 𝐚/𝐧: 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐨-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚, 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐨-𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝...

♡ 𝐚/𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐢𝐭, 𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭), 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐳 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑶𝑵𝑬

"𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄 podría ir contigo," Rita suggested with a smirk, giving you a quick nudge before resting her hands behind her back.

A thing she always did when asking for something.

"Alrededor de todos esos americanos, necesitarás a alguien que te cuide la espalda."

You rolled your eyes with a sigh, turning and crossing your arms at your chest like a scolding mother.

"Ya te lo he dicho, sargenta," you denied, "Te necesito aquí mientras Rudy y yo no estamos."

You were the Colonel of the Mexican Special Forces, and Rita was your third in command.

With you and Rudy about to depart on a mission with a special American task force, you needed someone trusted to stay behind and make sure things back home stayed smooth.

"Eres la única persona en la que confío para dirigir este lugar. Te necesito aquí."

Rita nodded, still adamant, but deciding to drop the subject for now.

The last thing Las Almas needed was another war, and everyone on base could feel something brewing with the arrival of the Americans

If they were reaching out to the Vaqueros for help, then the problem was serious.

As if on cue, the sound of a roaring helicopter soared overhead, the dark green vehicle touching down on the tarmac not too far ahead of you two.

"Tambien, estos hombres son soldados de una amiga," you assured, giving her a comforting pat on the shoulder, "Estoy en buenas manos."

Rita sighed, turning to watch the ramp lower and the Americans offload.

"Ruego que tengas razón," she wished, giving your back a supportive pat, "Buena suerte."

"Gracias, Rita," you smiled, turning to hold her hand in a firm shake.

You gave her a sincere smile, one that eased the hearts of every soldier there.

"Te volveré a ver pronto. Mantén la cabeza puesta hasta que vuelvo."

She chuckled, nodding as she shook your hand, "Entiendo."

You nodded back, giving her final pat on the back before turning to the helicopter, heading over.

Their hardware was almost completely unloaded, and the two officers you were supposed to meet were descending the ramp

"(y/n)!" The one with the shaggy mohawk called over the helicopter blades, walking strongly towards you.

'Mierda...'

He was huge.

"Sergeant MacTavish," you greeted, holding out your hand to shake.

You remembered his face from the files Laswell sent you.

"Call me Soap," he assured with a smile.

"Lieutenant," you turned to the skull-wearing one, "Laswell tells me they call you Ghost."

"Actually, I believe he prefers to be called-." "That'll do!" Ghost curtly cut Soap off.

You chuckled, nodding for them to follow.

"Sorry we couldn't roll out the red carpet for you boys. My men are little tied up at the moment," you smirked, "Welcome to the City of Souls."

"I've never been to Mexico," Soap chimed.

"This isn't México," you glanced at him out the corner of your eye, "This is Las Almas."

He was interesting.

You knew from books and movies that Scottish people had an accent, but you'd never met in person to here it.

"Shepard's contractors are inbound to reinforce. Their bringing hardware, they'll need room," Ghost stated.

"My base is your base," you nodded, "Take what you need."

"Good. Now, where's Hassan?" He asked as you three approached Rudy's jeep.

"In a cartel safe house ten clicks from here," you stated, opening the passenger, "Get in."

Your men behind finished loading up their jeeps, beginning to file in themselves next.

"En mi marca, hombres!"

"Si, coronel!"

You smiled, taking your seat in the passenger.

"This is my second in command, Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra," you introduced, turning to the two in the back.

Rudy sighed, his face uneasy as he grabbed the wheel.

"Yo tengo miedo los phantasmas," he said slyly, making you smile.

The two in the back turned to each other, confused at your quick exchange.

You turned to the back, specifically to Soap, and smirked.

"You know Spanish?"

"No," he shook his head, brow cocked.

You chuckled, facing forward.

 "You will."

𝐈𝐍 order to get to the safehouse, your squad had to drive through the downtown area of Las Almas.

Where the cartel were their most active.

Naturally, a truck passed with a couple cartel enforcers in the back, well-armed.

"White truck, four armed in th'back," Soap reported, quickly gripping his gun.

"Tranquilo, escocé," you calmed, turning, "Easy...that's normal here."

"Guns on the street is jurisdiction of the police," Rudy clarified.

"Where are the police?" Ghost asked.

"There are few to uphold the law. And many of those who resist corruption...disappear," you answered, truthfully.

"Whit aboot th'military?" Soap asked. 

"Because we're well trained, soldiers are recruited by the narcos..." "Why not you?" Simon asked again, bluntly.

You turned to Rudy.

"We grew up here. The people call us Los Vaqueros...Cowboys," you stated, looking out the window.

"This place is home. And we will die fighting for it."

Rudy turned a bend, and at the corner, a couple of narco sympathizers were handing out balloons.

Soap and Ghost shared a wary look.

"Kids, guns, an' balloons...that's a new one," Soap remarked.

"Narcos use generosity to win over the people," Rudy explained, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Even the children?" Soap asked.

"Especially the children," you affirmed, your tone icy.

Glancing out the window again, you noticed a new Narcomanta, tapping Rudy to stop for a moment.

"What's on the sheets?" Ghost asked.

"Narcomantas," Rudy answered, "Messages from El Sin Nombre. Warnings marking territory."

"Who's Sin Nombre?"

"El Sin Nombre. The Nameless. He's the leader of the Las Almas cartel," you stated.

"Where can we find 'im?" Soap asked, not missing a beat.

You smiled.

'I like him already.'

"If it was that easy, I would've killed him years ago," you half-heartedly chuckled.

"You can't. No one knows who he is. This is the challenge," Rudy sighed.

But you smirked, turning to him, "But Los Vaqueros like challenges."

Just ahead, a couple of army jeeps sat waiting, some soldiers interrogating the people in the car in front of you.

"Checkpoint," Rudy warned.

"Turn right, we'll go around," you assured.

"Why?" Soap asked.

"Some troops are in the pocket of El Sin Nombre," you answered, "Like I said...he is everywhere."

You glanced out the window again, trying to get a gauge of your ETA.

"Hassan is being held at a safehouse in the village across the river. Let's hope he's still there."

"𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 leaders, circle up on me..." You ordered as you stepped out the vehicle, your men following suit.

"Copia, coronel," Rudy affirmed in comms.

"Weapons hot, Vaqueros. Muévese," you patted some of the men passing you, making sure they took position.

"Where ur they holdin' Hassan?" Soap asked.

"A white, two-story building in the back of town," you nodded, Rudy giving you a quick fist bump as he passed to take his position.

You followed him, Soap and Ghost following you before you stood ready in front of the large, wooden gate.

"Todos los Victors, estan listo..." you readied, saying a quick prayer in your head.

"Tres...dos...uno! Entra! Entra!"

You kicked in the door, quickly taking aim, but no one was there.

"Claro. Muévese," you ordered, descending down the rocky path, weapon at the ready.

"Civilians?" Soap asked.

"Gone. The cartel took over and turned it into a hideout," you answered, the team coming across another gate.

"Good place to keep Hassan," Soap nodded.

You took one side of the gate and Ghost took the other, taking his turn to push it open.

The sounds of shouts could be heard over the gate's squeaking, and you quickly stepped out, knocking off the source of the noise.

"Contacto! Todos los Victors mudarse!" You exclaimed, shooting at a man that appeared in the doorway of a house.

"Copia. 2 se mueve," Rudy confirmed.

Soap took out the rest of the men inside the house, and you led the team through the alleyway behind it.

"We secure this house. Then go for Hassan," you stated as you approached a red-bricked one, the talking of nervous sicarios audible through the wall.

"Cartel will move him fast," Ghost warned.

"We'll move faster," you assured, taking position next to the door and turning to Soap.

"Heads up. They're ready."

He nodded, taking the butt of his gun and using it as a ram to open the door.

Quickly, he entered the house, gun at the ready as he took down one hiding in the hallway, and then one hiding in the bathroom.

"Room clear," he reported.

You smiled, impressed.

"Not bad, escocé," you commended, following close behind.

"No sign of Hassan," he added, pushing open a door full of bullet holes.

"Not yet," you warned.

The two of you entered the kitchen, doing a quick check.

"Clear," he affirmed, "Whit 'appened t' thefamilies 'ere?"

"The cartel brings violence, so they leave," you answered, checking behind the kitchen island.

Soap locked the back door and held the knob, you quickly joining him.

"Standby," you stated, crouching down next to the window and holding your comm.

"Victor 2, this is 1-1. Despliegar humo. Estamos moviendo hacia afuera."

"Copia. Ha salido el humo," 2-1 on the other line confirmed.

"Where's yer family, (y/n)?" Soap asked, turning to you.

"That's a story that should be told with a drink," you grinned, turning to him.

You gave him a quick once over, smiling.

"Maybe we'll get one sometime..."

Soap eyes scanned over your face, triple checking to see if what he heard was right.

...

Did you just hit on him?

"We have concealment," Ghost reported, coming over.

"Let's move," you quickly switched the subject, standing up, "On me, Soap."

You exited the house, Soap right on your tail, and headed right through the smoke for cover.

"This is where they are hiding Hassan, so expect resistance," you reminded, "Todos los equipos, listos para la contencion. Preparese para la brecha."

You recognized one of your men standing near a doorway and ran over to him, getting on the other side.

He kicked it down and you entered, taking out three sicarios on sight.

"Claro. No Hassan," you reported, taking a quick scan of the room.

"Second deck," Ghost chimed.

"Si. Vamos. Let's move upstairs and grab Hassan," you nodded, starting up the staircase once you made sure Soap was still close.

You almost made it to the top when a shot suddenly went off, narrowly missing your head.

You hit the deck, Soap doing the same, as a barrage of bullets hit the wall behind you.

'Shit...'

"If Hassan's here, he's in this room," you stated, slightly lifting your head over the rail and shooting at the room in front of you.

Their firing stopped, and you quickly hopped the rail, crouching next to the door frame and waiting for Soap's mark.

He took out two of the men within the room, and after taking a quick once over, he moved in.

"Secure the room. I'll cover," you assured.

Soap checked behind the couch before turning to the bathroom, kicking down the door and taking aim.

"Clear. No Hassan," he reported.

"Todos los Victors, la casa es seguro. Negativo sobre Hassan," you relayed through the comms.

"Entendido," Rudy affirmed.

You sighed, walking over to Ghost and Soap who were flipping through a binder they found on a table.

"They must've moved him," you shook your head.

"When?" Soap asked.

"Some time recently," you raked a hand through your hair, annoyed.

Ghost turned to the flag hanging up on the wall, "Quds Force. That's his."

"(y/n)'s intel wis good," Soap agreed.

"Always is," you half-heartedly joked, the sound of a car engine making you turn towards the window.

"Comandante! El ejército está aqui!" Rudy reported through comms.

"Mierda!" You cursed, squatting down out of the window's view.

"What is it?" Ghost asked.

"The army," you answered, trying to contact Rudy again.

"We got reinforcements..." Soap stated, more as a question.

"Negative," you denied, "0-3, replegarse! Replegarse, ahora!"

"Copia!" Rudy affirmed.

"What are we doin'?" Ghost asked.

You propped up your gun on the window nook, taking aim, "Covering my men. Once they're clear, we fall back."

"Ye want us tae engage the fuckin' Mexican Army?" Soap asked, skeptical.

"These troops are paid by the cartel. They're helping the cartel protect Hassan," you clarified, "Hold your fire. We'll dig in until my men are clear."

"Multiple vehicles...troop transports...light armor," Ghost reported.

The jeeps pulled over, and the soldiers came pouring out right in the open.

"Hold," you reminded, "Wait for them to get in close."

You waited until they came into the alleyway in front of the window, right in your perfect line of sight.

"Weapons free!" You nodded, Soap not taking a second to spare.

The three of you lit them up, but they were prepared, returning fire with some hardware of their own.

"They're armored!" Soap reported.

"Target the helmets! They're weak!" You shouted over the gunfire.

"They're using shields!" Ghost shouted back.

"Use grenades!"

Soap grabbed the grenade launcher and began applying cover fire, kicking up the dust and dead bodies below.

He was whittling off their numbers in exponentially, and you and Ghost were there to finish off the stragglers.

"Coronel, estamos claro!" Rudy called over comms.

"Copia! Reúnase en el safehouse!" You ordered, turning to Soap and Ghost, "My men are clear!"

"Then we need tah move!" Soap exclaimed.

"Fall back this way!" You ran for the back window, using your shoulder to bust it open before jumping out, landing on the dumpster below.

The two followed you, descending the hill until you met up with one of your squads at the opening to the forest.

"Fan out and stay close. We'll lose them in the mountains," you ordered.

"La antigua ruta?" Rodriguez, one of your men, asked.

"Straight to the bridge," you confirmed.

The gunfire was getting louder and louder, bullets whizzing past you as you moved as fast as you could.

The cartel dogs were on your ass.

"The army's on us!" Soap exclaimed.

Just then, as you turned to Rodriguez, a splurt of blood exploded from him, making him drop like a rag-doll.

"Rodriguez!" Your eyes shot wide, quickly grabbing him by his vest and dragging him behind a large rock, "Cover! Cover!"

"Returning fire!" Ghost exclaimed.

You turned to look down at you fallen comrade, trying to see where the bleeding was coming from.

There was so much.

"Ay, coño! ¿Dónde estás sufriendo, hermano?" You asked, undoing his vest to try and apply some form of first aid.

"Sanchez is down!" Another one of your men shouted, dropping to tend to him.

"Mi pecho. Me dispararon. Estoy perdido, coronel," Rodriguez gasped, coughing up blood, "Seguir peleando."

Tears welled in your eyes.

This man had been part of your forces from the beginning.

You two had shared the dream of wanting to bring Las Almas back to what it was before the cartel took over.

He was one of your most loyal soldiers, and would've laid down his life for the cause without question.

He didn't deserve to die like this.

"Don't got a lot o' time, hen! We gotta move!" Soap exclaimed, snapping you out of it.

You took a deep breath, saying a quick prayer and shutting Rodriguez's eyes before getting back to the matter at hand.

"Let's go," you stood up, turning around and leading the squad further down the mountain.

"Ye know these trails?" Soap asked, hoping to take your mind off what just happened.

He couldn't imagine the pain you were going through right now, and he was trying his best to lighten your load.

"Very well," you nodded, "But so does the army."

"We can't hold off an army. We need extraction," Ghost stated.

"Vasquez, llame para una extracción," you ordered.

"Si, comandante," he nodded, getting to it.

"Cualquier palabra de Rodolfo?" You asked.

"Negativo," Rivera answered, "Perdimos comunicación."

"Puta," you hissed, hopping  a log, "Let's keep it moving. Through here."

You led the squad through the brush before dropping and sliding down a small shelf of rock.

"The mountain's blocking comms," you stated.

"Your man get the call out?" Ghost asked.

"Let's hope so," you sighed.

"Whit's th'plan?" Soap chimed.

"There's a bridge at the river. Extraction will be there--" An RPG suddenly blew hole in the ground 15 meters ahead of you, raining heavy gunfire on the squad.

"Contact!" Ghost shouted, ducking behind a tree to return fire.

"The ridgeline!" You exclaimed, diving behind a rock.

You quickly grabbed two grenades off your belt, pulling their pins and tossing them at the enemy, taking out a clump of their numbers.

Ghost and Soap picked off the stragglers in the trees before you pressed forward to lead again.

"We'll have to jump here!" You called, coming up on a stone shelf attached to the cliff.

"Can we make that?!" Soap exclaimed.

"Hace o muerte, escocé," you stated, jumping and sliding down to break your landing.

Your men followed, and you started off on the small edge of the cliff.

"Pinches cabrones aren't far behind," you spat, quickly checking your six.

"Where to, (y/n)?" Soap asked.

"Soap, push forward. Vasquez, keep working on the radio. Rest of you watch for snipers," you fell back, triple checking the far ridges for any possible enemies.

"Vasquez, alguna señal de radio?"

"Negativo," he denied.

You cursed, "We need to get to the river."

"I found it," Soap reported, entering a clearing.

But his words were overwhelming by the whirring of the helo not too far away.

"Escucha...You hear that?" You hushed, looking up at the sky.

"Incoming heli," Ghost reported.

"Si. Get to a firing position. We'll take them by surprise," you ordered, your men setting up their formation.

"Which way to the bridge?"

"Straight ahead. Past the helo. They're gonna try to cut us off," you answered, following close behind Soap.

"We'll 'ave tah go through them," Soap stated, lifting himself up onto the next part of the mountain.

"Luckily, the bridge isn't too far," you assured, "But they may position shooters out here. So, watch your backs."

After getting over the hill, the three of you and your forces made it to the edge of the mountain, where the bridge and the river could been seen below.

But your extraction unit was no where to be seen.

"Comms didn't get through," Vasquez cursed, "Hijoputa."

"We'll radio when we get down there," you assured, jumping to land on a lower shelf below, "Watch your footing here."

"Estos acantilados son peligrosos," Vasquez muttered, jumping down next to you.

Once he Americans and the rest of your forces made it down, you pushed forward

"You know your way?" Ghost asked.

"We used to skip school and play here as kids," you nodded, hugging the cliff wall as you carefully inched over to the other side.

It was the only way to get across.

"'Til the cartel took over?" Soap chimed.

"Exactly. The narcos changed everything."

You made it to the other side and turned around to check on everyone else, only for Vasquez to get shot, a splurt of blood exploding from him.

"Sniper! Move!" Ghost shouted.

"Vasquez!" You exclaimed, eyes wide as you watched him fall off the cliff.

You quickly dropped to the ground, propping up your gun and finding the sniper on the ridge where you just were.

"Pinche cabron..." you lined up the shot straight for the face, shooting and killing the soldier, "Sniper down."

"Fuckin' good shot, hen," Soap commended, making it over to you.

"We need to get some ground," you hurried, grabbing hold of higher ground and hoisting yourself up.

With no signal in the mountains and the army still on your ass, you knew you had to get your men to the ground quick.

Completely descaling the mountain would take too long, not to mention the army would catch you by then.

So there was only one option.

'Que Dios me ayude...'

"You led us to a dead end, mate..." Ghost realized, the cliff ending a few feet ahead.

"We jump from here!" You exclaimed, using your running start to help you jump.

"Don't lose your weaponnnnn!"

After you and Rita nearly died cliff diving from there as children, you both made a vow you'd never do it again.

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Your crossed your arms and held your gun close to your chest as you collided with the water, the force stinging your face and cheeks.

Opening your eyes, you quickly check to make sure you weren't injured before you swam up to the surface, the sound of splashing letting you know that your men were all right.

"Soap!" You broke the surface with a gasp, quickly looking around, "Ghost! Rivera! Están bien? You guys all right?"

"Affirm," Ghost nodded, somehow coming up without you noticing.

"Soap?" You turned around, frantically checking.

Suddenly, the man popped up next to you with a loud cough, nearly scaring you half to death.

"Breathin'," he cleared his throat, patting his chest.

"Por Dios..." you took a deep breath, trying to calm your heart.

"All right, we gotta move down river to get to the bridge. Use the rocks for cover," you instructed, starting your swim and holding your comm to try and get a connection, "All stations, this is Victor 0-1. How copy?"

"-dow 1! Do you--? -ay again, -o you re--?" 

The sentence didn't sound Spanish at all. Not to mention half of it was cut from the static.

"Radio's pickin' up somethin'," Soap chimed.

"Sounds American," Ghost agreed.

The sound of bullets focused you back on the situation at hand.

"No time to worry now. Weapons free!" You exclaimed, swimming behind a rock quarry so you could return fire.

You took out four soldiers on the riverbank before ducking to reload.

"We gotta keep moving down-river!" You called to Soap and Ghost over the gunfire.

"Soap, push ahead! Don't stop movin'!" Ghost agreed.

"Onnit!" He nodded, taking the lead while you and Ghost covered the rear.

The two of you took out a couple more soldiers that hid in the trees, and even some that were following through the ridgeline.

"Cabrones don't know when to quit," you cursed, tired of the army's bullshit.

"We got incoming up ahead!" Soap reported, shooting at the military jeep that pulled up on the bank up ahead.

"The river's slowin' us down, mate!" Ghost warned, swimming after him to provide some backup.

"It's shallow ahead! We get there and we can get some grounding!" You assured.

The three of you took out the forces that came out the car and then pushed forward, swimming a bit before finally making it to the shallow end.

"Vehicles on the bridge!" Ghost reported.

You quickly whipped your head over to where he was looking, only to see four armored trucks pull up onto the bridge.

"Fuck! It's the army! Get to cover!" You shouted, grabbing Rivera and ducking behind a rock, "We're gonna have to hold here and get an extraction!"

"We can't do shite against 'at armor!" Soap exclaimed.

You quickly reloaded your gun, your stomach dropping as you realized you only had one magazine left.

'Shit! ...I'm almost out.'

"This is Shadow-1! Engaging the bridge north of your position. Danger close!" A voice suddenly shouted from your comm.

"The fuck is that?!" You asked.

"Commander Graves. Shadow Company. They're with us," Ghost answered.

Suddenly, charges started going off on the bridge, taking out all of its support beams before blowing a huge hole in the center.

"Holy shit..." You watched, wide eyed.

"Shadow 0-1, Bravo 0-7! Good shots! Fire for effect!" Ghost approved in comms.

They blew one final charge dead in the center, and the entire bridge collapsed into the river.

Cars and trucks included.

"All stations, no enemy movement detected. You're clear," Graves reported, "S'good to see you guys."

"Likewise, mate," Ghost nodded.

"This way," you led the team onto the riverbank, coming across an empty jeep in perfect condition.

"Graves, we've located a vehicle for exfil," Ghost reported.

"Rodger that," Graves approved, "Be advised, we got a possible hit on Hassan two klicks north of your position."

"That's cartel land. They have a compound there," you added, opening the driver's side and hopping in.

"Les roll," Soap huffed, taking the passenger set, Ghost settling for the back.

"You guys good to roll up Hassan with some fire from the sky?" Graves asked.

The three of you turned to each other, sharing a firm nod.

"Les wrap 'is fucker up, Graves," Soap agreed.

#cod #call of duty #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny x reader #johnny mactavish

[dantakeyoman]

𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐣. 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡

♡ 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 "𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐩" 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤! 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒖𝒑 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲, 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐭𝐯, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

Johnny burst in through the doors of the restaurant and leaned up against a wall in the lobby, quickly trying to catch his breath.

He had just finished sprinting clear across town trying to make it on time for a blind date he'd had in the calendar for weeks.

...

Too bad he was already horribly late.

Looking up from the floor, his eyes scowered the room for someone that fit your description.

(h/l), (h/c) hair. sparkling, (e/c) eyes. clear, (s/c) skin.

Slightly breaking the rules of blind dating, he'd looked for and managed to find your social media accounts.

He scrolled through photo after photo of you, and couldn't deny that you looked gorgeous in every single one.

But even they couldn't prepare him for the absolute knockout he saw sitting at two top, wearing the exact same dress you said you'd be wearing.

'Steamin' Jesus.'

He quickly stood up straight, straightening up his dress shirt before making his way over to you, happy to see your smiling face greet him.

"Sorry I'm a bit late, doll," he returned the smile, distracting himself from the sudden wave of nervousness by pulling out his chair and sitting down.

He extended a hand.

"I'm Johnny."

"(y/n)," you smiled, shaking his hand as you looked deeply into his eyes, checking for any insincerity.

You found none.

"You Scots always this late?" You teased.

He chuckled, settling in his seat, "Only when I get caught up lookin' at somethin' pretty."

He took in your every detail, but not in creepy way.

His eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity and fondness.

"You're (y/n)?" He raised an eyebrow slightly.

"In the flesh," you nodded, shooting him a cheeky smile, "Whaddya think? I live up to the hype?"

Johnny smiled, leaning in ever so slightly.

"You are well beyond the hype, sweetheart," he assured, "And 'ave been well worth the wait."

You tried to muffle your smile, but it was hard to do when he looked at you like that.

Even harder when he talked like that.

And you'd only met him in person two minutes ago.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, MacTavish," you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Flattery?" He scoffed, almost offended, "Never. I'm jus' makin' an' observation."

Confidence seemed to ooze from his every pore, almost intimidatingly so.

"Jus' like you probably observed me burst in through the door like a madman. Sorry aboot that.”

You let out a small snicker.

"I knew I had seen you runnin' in the window. No wonder you were puffin' like a steam engine," you smiled.

"You must've been dead set on getting here."

He chuckled.

"Well, when I make an appointment with a bonnie lass like yourself, I'll be damned if I miss it," he gave you a wink, and flashed his pearly, white teeth, accentuating his charming smile.

His voice suddenly lowered to a slight whisper, and you tilted your head to hear.

"And if you'd let me, I'd love to make it up to you. There's a spot down the road called the Red Lion. You can tell me all about yourself over some pints."

Normally, you would never go off somewhere with a stranger you'd just met.

But there was something about this man that made you feel safe and welcome.

Not only that, but you wanted to see where this night would take you.

"To hell with it..." You smiled, standing up and holding out your arm for him to take, "Lead the way, white knight."

He smiled, standing up and taking your arm.

"Aw, love, you're makin' me blush," he smirked as the two of you headed for the door.

Suddenly, he leaned in to whisper in your ear, his musky cologne filling your nose.

"And I'll have you know...I'm a Scotch knight. Greatest of 'em all."

You playfully rolled your eyes with a smile.

"My mistake, Scotch knight," you corrected, fighting off the blush threatening to creep from his close proximity.

"And what would that make me?"

His reply was almost immediate, but at the last second decided to reel it in.

"My... Scottish princess?" He sheepishly grinned, making sure not to come of as too overbearing.

He didn't want to scare you away.

But he wasn't completely opposed to being a white knight to a beautiful woman like you.

"We'll see..." You smirked as you two approached the Red Lion.

While his avances were certainly stirring something in you, you weren't going to make it easy for him.

Not yet.

And he could see it, too.

You had him hooked and he knew it.

But he wouldn’t be Johnny MacTavish if he gave up on a challenge.

#soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny #soap #cod mw2 #mw2 #soap mw2 #soap cod

[dantakeyoman]

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 | 𝐩. 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬

♡ 𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒑 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒆𝒐, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚-𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒖𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐚𝐟, 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

Graves loved the rodeo, much like the many other country men.

Mainly, he loved the show of it.

The display.

Competitions to show off which cowboy was the manliest?

That was right up his alley.

But there was one other large reason why he loved the rodeo...

The women.

Dimes from all over would come to watch and fawn and drool at the men competing.

And he's had his fair share of each.

But every single one of those girls were blown completely out of the water by you.

The woman he had caught sight of during the bull ride.

And you had caught sight of him, too.

Your eyes locked with the handsome man riding the bull, and you smiled, giving him a nod of approval.

He was remarkably good at it.

But what was even more remarkable, was the minute his ride was finished, he started walking over to you.

He winked, blowing out his bottom lip with the smallest smirk as he approached.

He tipped his hat as he got closer.

"You a rodeo fan, there, missy?"

You smirked, leaning up against the fence.

"I come and I go."

Graves chuckled as he placed his hands on his hips.

"Well, darlin'. I reckon we both got a little something out of this rodeo then," he tilted his hat up just slightly to reveal his bright, blue eyes.

"I'd be doin' myself a disservice if I didn't ask for your name."

You tutted, a sly smirk growing on your lips.

"Don't think you've earned my name yet, cowboy. You're gonna have to do more than that."

Graves winked, his smile growing into a sly one as he took a step towards you.

He placed one hand on the fence, leaning over slightly, so that he was closer to you.

Face-to-face.

"You like the sound of sugar?" He whispered.

He knew that this would either work or wouldn't.

If it didn't?

He had other ways to make you talk.

He had the kinda of confidence that would make him believe any other tactic would work.

"It'll do," you smiled up at him, your eyes dark and inviting.

He moved his hand on the fence over to your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone ever so slightly.

His head was tilted down, giving himself a better view of you, as well as a chance to get his face closer to yours.

"What's a pretty lady like you doin' all 'lone in the bleachers?" He asked cockily, "Where's your cowboy?"

"Don't got one," you nodded, "Flyin' solo today."

Your smirk grew.

"How 'bout you? You got a cowgirl waitin' for you at home?"

You eyed the hand on your cheek, before leading your gaze back to his.

"If I'm goin' off where your hand is, my guess would be no."

Graves chuckled, his eyes staying trained on yours.

"You'd be right, sugar. No girl at home waitin'. Don't even got a girl at the rodeo waitin'."

He raised a brow, his thumb still caressing your cheek.

"You lookin' to change that?"

He leaned even closer, waiting for you to make the next move.

"Butterin' me up s'not gonna get you nowhere..." You tried to fight off a smile.

But you couldn't help it.

This man was doing something to you.

Graves smirked, noticing the way he was making you feel.

He moved his hand from your cheek, resting it on yours.

He looked as if he was going to lean in for a kiss, but instead, he breathed in close to your ear.

"I like a woman who can handle herself."

His voice was gravelly and smooth at the same time, sending a shiver down your spine.

He slowly pulled away, allowing a few inches between you two again.

"And I think I might just have me one of those..."

You carefully took his hand from yours, turning it to lay flat across his chest.

"You sure 'bout that? As far as you're concerned, I could be an ax murderer," you asked teasingly, "You really know me?"

Graves chuckled, your fingers running across his chest, making him grin even wider.

"It ain't about the knowledge I have, darlin'. S'bout the chemistry between us right now. And besides..."

He smiled.

Your fingers were still caressing his chest.

"I know your type. And you ain't an ax murderer."

"Oh, really?" You cocked a brow, "Then what am I, cowboy?"

Graves didn't hesitate with his answer.

"The type that has a hard time admitting she's got a soft spot for the Southern boy-next-door type."

He smirked, knowing full well the type he just described was you to a T.

"So maybe you're not all brawn..." You teased with a smile, giving his chest a little flick before starting off towards where the rest of the crowd was headed.

The after party was happening at Davies, a popular local bar joint.

And you sure as shootin' weren't gonna miss it.

"You comin' or what, cowboy?"

The flick had sent chills up the man's spine, and your smirk made him grin even more.

"Yeah, I'm comin'," he said with his own smirk before moving to follow you.

"You just lead the way, gorgeous."

#phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #graves mw2 #modern warfare 2 #graves x reader #phillip x reader

[dantakeyoman]

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐨

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

After a couple of miles of endless bickering and one ups between Columbus and Wichita, the gang had found an decent-looking RV stopped at a junkyard under an overpass.

You and Tallahassee scoped out the area first to make sure it was safe, before starting the trek to get there.

And the entire time he had been daring himself to ask you about...well, you.

What were you two?

Were you going to strike off together once all of this was over?

Were you both all right enough to strike off together?

Did you mean him when you said you were through?

All questions that were practically eating away at him.

But just as he got enough courage to ask, you'd made it, and it was time to put back on the face.

"All right! This is what I'm talkin' about," he smiled as the group approached the RV, "We're finally gonna be ridin' in style."

"You know the drill. I gotta check it out first," you reminded, fighting off your own smile.

It had been a while since you checked out an RV.

Good thing your memory was pristine when it came to all things vehicle.

"You guys, I partied with 3 Doors Down in one of these," Madison started, moving to the front of the pack to open the door.

"It was so-." The second she cracked it, the alarm went off, and zombies from all directions came out the woodwork.

"Shit," you hissed, quickly climbing into the front and shutting it off.

"Jersey," Tal called you over.

"On it," you nodded, walking out the door and stepping up on his hand.

"Front of the car's twelve o'clock. Trunk is six. You're our eyes," he explained, lifting you up onto the roof.

"Don't worry, guys. They're much more afraid of us than we are of them," Madison assured.

"God, that is not even remotely true," Wichita sighed.

You dug in your duffel and grabbed your trusty AK, slinging your uzi over your shoulder.

"We meet again, duckies," you smirked, the way they were so easily lining up making you feel nostalgic.

"Two o'clock!"

Wichita took that one down with her hand-held Gatling gun.

"Eleven! Eleven! Seven-thirty!"

You saw another at six o'clock, but didn't call it, wanting to bag one for yourself.

"One-thirty!"

"Why is everyone shouting numbers?!" Madison loudly asked over the gunfire.

"Eleven!"

"Twelve!" She shouted.

"Six! And two o'clock! Eight! Six o'clock!"

Nothing but gunfire could be heard, and it looks like there was no end to the zombies in sight.

"Eight! Ten! Eight! Eight o'clock!"

Madison had saved Wichita from a zombie with her pepper spray, making a smirk rise to your face.

'Oh, I'm never gonna let her live that down.'

"One-thirty! Three! One! Three!"

You took three, since no one had got to it yet.

And once it was dead, you turned around, seeing more coming out the corner of your eye.

"One o'clock! Ten-thirty! Eleven! Eleven! Actually, it's a Homer. Don't waste a bullet."

"Hawking, Jersey, Hawking!" Wichita shouted.

You whipped around to see a fucking Hawking running at you at full speed.

"Fucker," you spat, pistol-whipping it off the roof and jumping down, landing on its head and crushing it.

"Yay!" Madison clapped with a smile, as if you were performing.

Just then, a zombie came out of nowhere from under the RV, grabbing onto her foot.

"Aah, he's trying to bite me!"

"Ninja! Ninja!" Columbus exclaimed, quickly shooting it dead.

She gasped, turning to look at him with this enamoured expression.

"You saved me."

"All right. Settle down."

More snarling could be heard, and you whipped around to see the last incoming zombie.

"Tal, one o'clock," you stated, nodding towards the monster.

"Pardon me, Pop Tart," he stepped past Madison, "Not quite done yet."

He shot two right at its chest, but it dodged...somehow.

'What the fuck?"

"What the fuck?" Tal spoke your mind.

He shot two again, double-tapping it right between the eyes.

The zombie dropped to the ground.

"Try to dodge me, motherfucker."

Tal turned back around, ready to get in the RV.

But the zombie got back up.

Creepily, without the use of arms or legs.

"Tal?" You nodded again, concerned.

He turned around, surprised to see the monster still gnashing and on the charge again.

"One plus one still equals two, right?" He asked, shooting it another five times.

But it continued to crawl forward, even as he shot it seven more times.

"What the ever-lovin' fuck?!"

When it got too close, he settled with smashing its head in, finally killing it.

...

"Ew," Madison grimaced.

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

As you drove down the road, back in the minivan, you thought about how free you would be if you just put one right between your eyes right then and there.

After all that zombie killing, you all had scored the RV.

But just as Tallahassee was pulling out, he drove over a spike strip that was hidden by a whole bunch of undergrowth.

Even still, you could've taken the ice cream truck.

But because Columbus was a pussy that's still afraid of clowns in a world of flesh-eating monsters, you had to settle with the minivan.

So now here you were, driving down the highway, contemplating swereving into a ditch to put yourself out of your misery.

"I've always wanted to start a business where strangers drive strangers around in their car for money," Madison randomly started, making you hang your head.

'Here the fuck we go should be my fuckin' catchphrase.'

"Let's say you were really drunk and needed a ride home. You'd just get online and hop right in with a stranger. And they'd take you anywhere you want to go."

The two men laughed, turning to each other with smiles.

"Oh, yeah. Who then kills you," Columbus joked.

"They'd have gum, or, like, lollipops-." "That was exactly what my parents taught me," Wichita said sarcastically.

"They were like, if a stranger offers you candy or gum, get in their car. Great idea."

"If they try to murder you, you can have a system so you, like, can rate them. Like, if they try to murder you, like, you get zero points. But if they don't try to murder you, you get, like, five points," Madison tried to explain.

"Madison, I think it is a very good idea," Columbus smiled.

"Yeah, no, I cannot see that going wrong," Wichita scoffed.

"All I'm saying is the taxi industry was very flawed-." Suddenly, she burped.

Quite aggressively actually.

"You okay?" You asked, looking up into the rear-view.

She was really, really pale.

"I think I'm, like, hot. I'm hot," she felt her forehead, "I guess I'm so used ot being in the freezer all the time."

"Yeah, sure, that makes sense," Columbus nodded.

Just then, she farted and burped at the same time.

"I feel funny," she wheezed, her voice suddenly gone.

Oh, shit.

You suddenly remembered the Ninja zombie from before.

The one that grabbed her.

'This bitch is turning into a fucking zombie.'

"Nope," you pulled over, making a loud screech.

She quickly got out the car, walking a couple steps before projectile vomitting.

The tell-tale sign that zombie transformation was on the way.

You felt your stomach drop.

You had a bad history with freshly turned zombies, and in no way did you want to subject yourself to that trauma again.

Everyone already saw what happened to you the last time.

"Ooo, chunkage," Tal grimaced.

"Maybe she'll pull through," Columbus suggested.

"What do you mean? You are the one who always says don't take any chances," Wichita scoffed.

"So who's doin' the honors?" Tal asked with a smile, "I mean, personally, I wouldn't mind, but I don't want anyone calling me selfish."

"Hey, come on, she is a living, thinking being, okay?" Columbus scolded.

Everyone cocked a brow.

"She's a living being," he corrected.

"I know from personal experience that zombies are at their most bat-shit when they first turn," you started, cocking your shotgun.

"So, we either figure out who's doing what in the next five seconds or I'm going out there myself and getting this shit over with."

Columbus nodded, cocking his own gun and stepping out the car, leading Madison over to the woods.

It was quiet for a minute, and shouts could be heard, before two gunshots went off, and the shouts went quiet.

The boy sadly trudged back in the car, and shut the door, you being quick to start back on the road.

The quicker you could leave it behind, the quicker it would become a memory.

"Look, I'm not gonna pretend that I'm broken up about it," Tal started, turning to face Columbus in the backseat, "but, um, I am sorry. She didn't deserve that."

"He's right. That's a terrible way to go, even for..." "Just period, man," you groaned, throwing your head back.

"It's a terrible way to go, period. Just because she was annoying doesn't mean you can be an asshole about it."

"I'm not being an asshole about it," she defended.

"It was a little assy," Tal nodded.

"I wasn't trying to be. It's sad, and that's obviously not what I wanted-." "What is it you do want?" Columbus asked.

"I wanna find my sister."

"Good."

"Good

"Great, in fact."

"Great."

"Awesome."

"This is gonna be a long drive," Tal sighed.

"How about we play a throwback? The Quite Game?" you rhetorically asked.

"Good? Great. Everyone shut the fuck up."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

The four of you made it to Graceland, but sadly, it was quite literally a pile of rubble.

And with no Beast or Little Rock in sight, you were out of leads.

Not to mention Tallahassee was torn up about the destruction of the "happiest place on earth".

Tired, and losing hope by the minute, you took everyone back on the road.

And not too far from Graceland, you found the Beast parked outside this place called the Hound Dog Hotel.

So here you all were, busting in to see if you find the girl anywhere.

"Wow," Tallahassee gasped, eyes going wide at all the Elvis memorabilia, "It may not be Graceland, but it sure looks a hell of a lot like Graceland."

"It does," Columbus agreed.

"Here's the deal. We'll split up. I'll go this way-." "No, no, no, I should talk to her," Wichita interrupted.

"I'm her sister. I'll talk to her first. You guys stay here."

"Stay here my ass, I'm headed to the bar," you scoffed, walking over to the Tiki themed corner and hopping the counter.

You searched the shelf for that distinct name and label, hoping they had it in stock.

Until you laid eyes on it.

"Jack mother-fuckin' Daniels," you smirked, grabbing the bottle by its neck and reading its date.

'1960 Jack Daniels. Elvis knew his liquor.'

You uncorked it, taking a healthy swig and relishing that familiar burn.

"Best feeling on earth," you smiled, taking another one as Tal began to sing and play the piano in the background.

You felt bad that you'd been icing him out for nearly the entire trip.

It felt odd, almost awkward, not talking to him like how you would usually do.

Joking and flirting and laughing.

That's what you were used to.

But now you could feel the gap between you two getting bigger and bigger.

You'd have to find Little Rock and leave soon, otherwise you'd lose your nerve.

Just then, you saw the shadow of a woman head around the corner and towards where Tal was.

You couldn't make out her features, but you tell what was in her hand from a mile away.

A pistol.

Quickly and quietly, you stepped out from behind the bar, following her.

She'd entered the room Tal was in, but he was too wrapped up in his music to notice her.

'Goddammit, Tallahasse.'

Without warning, she slammed the piano cover on his fingers, and hit him in the head with the music stand, knocking him over.

She trained her gun at his head, but you were quick to aim at her as well.

"Watch it," you warned, eyes cold and serious.

Her eyes flit up, turning her gun towards you.

"No, no, no, no, don't shoot 'er," Tally frantically asked, standing up.

"Start talking," she ordered.

"You first," you denied.

She clicked off her safety, and you did the same.

"I'm just gonna go ahead and be the civil one here. My name is Tallahassee," Tal chimed, eyes flicking to you in hopes you would follow his lead.

God, he loved you were fiery but one day it was going to get you killed.

"Jersey," you begrudgingly answered.

"Nevada," she stated, "Now, what the fuck are you doing in the Hound Dog?"

"We got a thing for the King," Tal said in an Elvis imitation.

"He's got a thing for the King," you corrected, "I'm here to make sure he doesn't die."

Just then, Wichita and Columbus burst in at the noise, Nevada taking a big step back.

"They're here for that, too," you added, tucking away your glock.

"Is anybody else in here with you?" She turned to you and Tal.

"Just us," you assured, sitting down on the piano stool.

She turned to Columbus and looked down at his shoes.

"Why the hell are you wearing Elvis' actual shoes?"

"Comfort," he stated, seriously.

"You live here?" Wichita asked.

Nevada sighed, lowering her gun, "Yeah."

"So that car out front? The girl ho was driving it, is she-?" "Gone," Nevada answered.

"She and that poser-peace lover of hers-." "Berkeley?" Tal chimed.

"Berkeley...took off a few days ago," she corrected, "And trust me, they shouldn't have. It's not safe out there."

"Dammit," Wichita hissed, angrily plopping down on a couch.

"Why didn't they take the Beast?" You asked.

"He said it was too establishment," she air quoted.

'That dickhead...'

"Oh, I will kill that little fart-snack myself," Tal grumbled.

"You're lucky I didn't do the same to you two," she scoffed, implying you and Tal, "Seriously. Do you know how close I was to Murraying you?"

Everyone froze.

"To what-ing him?" Wichita asked.

"Murraying him," Nevada nodded, "Y'know, when you shoot someone thinking they're a zombie. Apparently that's how Bill Murray died."

You smirked as Columbus began to stutter, awkwardly acting as if he didn't know this information.

Discreetly, you pulled the polaroid from that day out your pocket and handed it to Nevada, her eyes going wide.

"No fuckin' way," she scoffed in disbelief.

"Yeah, don't listen to this guy. He's killed more celebrities than cocaine," you nodded.

"Look, the girl from before. Did she say where she was going?" Wichita asked, returning to the subject.

"No. But that idiot, Berkeley, wouldn't shut the fuck up about it," Nevada sighed.

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee #tallahassee x reader #zombieland double tap x reader #zombieland double tap #zombieland x reader #zombieland

[dantakeyoman]

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐨

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐓𝐖𝐎

"I'm gettin' tired," you yawned, turning the corner with Tal on your motor scooters, "Let's find Dipshit and head home."

Columbus had graduated from Doofus to Dipshit on Year 3 of your travels together when he nearly crashed a car because he was too busy staring at Wichita.

"I hear ya," he nodded in agreement, feeling quite tuckered himself.

Until suddenly, a gunshot echoed through the hallway.

It was the sound of a shotgun.

You and Tally turned to each other in sync, knowingly.

'Columbus.'

Quickly, the both of you drew your guns, scooting over to the Yankee Candle.

Only to turn and see Columbus hugging some girl in a pink parka.

'The fuck?'

"Don't mind me," Tal sighed, tucking his gun back in his holster.

"Who is this?" You asked, cocking a brow at the curly-haired boy.

"Oh, hello," he realized, the two of them slowly breaking their hug, "This is Tallahassee and Jersey. Tallahassee and Jersey, Madison."

"Aw, are these your parents?" She asked with a ditsy smile.

"For fuck's sake," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

There was no way you looked that old.

Right?

"Slightly older, better-looking friend," Tal corrected, just as pissed as you were.

"Cute," she looked the both of you up and down.

"You live here?" he asked, deciding to change the subject.

"No, Paul Blart. I live in the freezer in Pinkberry, mm-hm," she shook her head, "It keeps the zombies out, though it is awfully chilly."

"Did you ever consider turning it off?" You cock a brow.

"Couldn't find the switch, like, anywhere. Just hoping the electricity would run out."

"It's amazing. As long as it rains, the dams give us power," Columbus chimed.

"Apparently not brain power

Madison turned around, her smile immediately falling.

"I feel like you're being super judgy. Like, I'm getting a real anti-me vibe off of you

"Are you?

"Oh, my God. There it was again."

"Yeah, I saw it," Columbus agreed.

"That's really hurtful. I'm, like, really good at surviving," she assured, nodding her head.

"I carry a can of mace with me everywhere I go. And I can run really, really, really, reallyfast. Porbably because I used to do a lot of hot yoga and SoulCycle-." "Cardio?" Columbus perked.

'Here we fuckin' go.'

"Sorry, I do a lot of cardio, too," he smiled, "It's actually my number one rule, which is so dorky. But I have like a list of rules for surviving Zombieland."

"Really? So do I!" She exclaimed.

"You have a list of rules for surviving Zombieland?"

"Actually, mine is just mostly stay in the freezer."

"You know, we set up camp, like, down the road at the White House..." Columbus started, snapping back your full attention.

You and Tallahassee cleared your throats, frantically waving no at the idiot.

"The White House? Oh, my God," Madison gasped.

"Would you wanna come hang out?" He asked, completely ignoring you two.

You took that as your cue, and turned around your scooter, Tal doing the same thing as you wheeled towards the exit.

"Nothin' stoppin' from just shootin' them both and puttin' us outta our misery," he suggested.

You nodded at the fair point.

"Yeah, but then I gotta find someone else to push in front of me in a zombie attack and you're too big."

...

"Fair enough."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

You would live to regret your decision.

Columbus brought Madison back to the house and gave her the grand tour while droning on and on about his survival rules.

You and Tallahassee had tried to talk some sense into him about bringing this unknown and surprisingly stupid girl into your safe haven, but he didn't want to hear any of it.

So Tal reprised his topic from earlier, and made it known that come sunrise, he was gonna be gone.

Which left that annoying feeling in your chest yet again.

One that amplified times ten now that you were alone with him on a couch.

And it didn't help that Columbus and the ditz were now loudly fucking on the floor right above you, making it impossible to concentrate on cleaning your gun.

'For fuck's sake...'

Tallahassee had rested his hat over his face, trying to catch some shut-eye before heading out.

But, in all honesty, he couldn't sleep.

You'd been acting real odd for the past few weeks, and he couldn't seem to pin-point why.

You were way more violent, way more irritable, and way less touchy than he remembered.

And it was making him a little crazy.

So much so that now his every waking thought, except for when fighting zombies, was spent thinking about you.

About how much he missed your talks, and your jokes, and your stories, and your smile.

And your kisses, and your touch, and your laughter, and your smile.

And your attitude, and your sassy remarks, and your funny comebacks, and did he mention your smile?

...

But what was even odder was that you had failed to pack anything yet.

You had not a duffel or even a book-bag prepared for the morning.

He said he was leaving sun-up, right?

You were there.

Had you heard him wrong?

Were you waiting until the last minute?

Were you.....not coming?

He shook his head, quickly banishing the thought.

No, no, that was impossible.

You knew you were supposed to be coming with him.

It was a given.

He goes, you go.

You go, he goes.

That was the agreement in your relationship.

...Right?

He quickly sat up, about to ask you about it, when the sound of things being knocked around suddenly echoed over Madison's aggressive moans.

The both of you perked up and turned to each other in perfect sync, concerned.

"You heard that right?" You asked, loading the final bullet in your glock.

"Yeah," Tal agreed, standing and picking up the musket that rested next to him.

His question would have to be saved for later.

You both slowly headed down the hallway where the sound came from, guns at the ready.

The creaking was getting louder and louder, and you tightened your grip on your gun, preparing for anything.

Suddenly, Columbus popped out of one of the open doors next to you.

Tal yelped and quickly shot, the boy moving in just enough time to dodge.

You sighed with relief to see it was just the him, and relaxed your shoulders.

"Sorry," Tal apologized, "It's Washington's old flintlock."

"It's a gift to Dwight D. Eisenhower from the Emperor of Japan," Columbus nodded, turning to the katana he held in his hand.

"I heard a strange noise."

"I've been hearing some strange noises, too," Tal said sarcastically, continuing to press forward.

At least you and him tried to keep it down.

They sounded like a rampaging gorilla.

"Oh, yeah. That was us. Having sex," Columbus smirked, resting the sword on his shoulder, "Rule number one."

"Maybe rule number thirty-two for her," you rolled your eyes, approaching the door where the noises were coming from.

"On my mark."

The two men nodded, and you counted down on your fingers before kicking open the door, taking aim on the first moving thing you saw.

Which was Wichita, picking up a gas can.

She froze, turning to the three of you slowly.

"Honey, I'm home."

"You gotta be shittin' me," you scoffed, lowering your weapon.

"Oh, my God, you're back," Columbus smiled.

He quickly caught himself.

"I mean, you're back or whatever. That's cool."

"Yeah, I'm not staying. Just came back to get some weapons."

"At one o'clock in the morning?" Tal cocked a brow.

"After a month missing," Columbus added.

"And no Little Rock?" You realized, the blonde-girl no where in sight.

Wichita hung her head.

"Little Rock's gone," she caved.

...

"Excuse me?"

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

After getting Wichita something to drink, mostly giving you a minute to cool off, the four of you finally sat down to listen to the entire story.

"It was great. It felt so good to be on the move again-." "We've been having a really good time here, too. Together," Columbus interrupted.

She ignored him and continued with the story.

"We picked up someone new. Just a boy. He's a couple years older than Little Rock, and he's from Berkeley-." "Berkeley?! You said Berkeley?!" Tal scoffed in disbelief.

"Yes."

"Berk-fuckin'-ley?!"

"He plays the guitar."

"Shut the fuck up, right now!" He exclaimed, standing up from his chair, "I know what you're about to tell me. She's dating a musician!"

"Tal, I think you're overreacting a little bit," you stood up as well, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He turned to you, looking at your face already making his features soften.

"Yeah. Yeah. No, I could be, uh, overreacting," he took a deep breath, sitting back down with you, "I'm sorry, you're right. You go ahead."

Columbus and Wichita fought off smirks, quickly sharing a look.

You had that man absolutely whipped.

"And he's a pacifist," she added.

'Fuck.'

"He has survived on a strict policy of conflict avoidance, like Gandhi."

You accepted you couldn't stop this fallout as Tally stood up with a shout of anger, turning around to kick and smash anything within reach.

"Birkenstocks, sandals, wheatgrass! Fuckin' basketballs!"

He continued to shout and destroy, and you sat patiently in your seat for the episode to pass.

Others might be put off by his violent display of aggression, but knowing him for so long helped you reach the conclusion that this was the healthiest way for him to get his anger out.

At least in a way that didn't hurt anything human.

When he was finished, he sat down next to you once again, panting.

"No, I really...I have nothing against pacifists. I just wanna...beat the shit outta 'em."

"I was adamant it was a bad idea, so I did what I never do with her. ...I told her no," Wichita picked back up, "And you can probably guess what happened next."

"She did what you always do with her, and high-tailed it with the car," you stated, bored as you scratched your head with your gun.

Tal stood up, obnoxiously laughing.

"Does anyone else get the irony in that? Huh?"

"I'm worried, guys," she sighed, standing up and motioning towards the door for a walk and talk, "They're travelling all that way and all they have is a fucking guitar."

"Yeah, with no intention of using it," Columbus chimed, "Y'know, 'cause he's a hippie."

"She's supposed to be killing the dead, not followin' 'em," Tal shook his head, still reeling from the reveal.

"And there's something going on out there," she added, turning to you all while walking around the corner.

"What?" Columbus asked.

"Berkeley told us about this new kind of zombie that's stronger, and faster, and deadlier, and better adapted to the hunt."

"I'm sorry but that just sounds totally made up," he scoffed, "If you want us to come with you, just ask us."

"Honestly, I just came back for guns and ammunition."

"Come on. Stop begging. We'll do it."

"You know, this is all your fault," Tal chimed, turning to Columbus, "If you hadn't pushed her away-." "Well, not exactly, no," Wichita corrected.

He turned to her.

"I didn't just run from him, she ran from you, too."

"What?" He asked, confused.

"You...You mean well, but you're...kinda overbearing."

He scoffed.

"Oh, right. I'm overbearing?!"

"Can everyone, for the love of God, shut the fuck up!" You exclaimed, whipping around to face them.

They all went silent, surprised by the outburst.

"I'm getting sick of this blame game shit!"

You turned to Wichita, "And I'm getting real fuckin' sick of you and your sister's cut and run routine!"

Everything you were bottling up for the last two months had finally come to head.

You thought you'd gotten it all out on that zombie, but that was just the tip of the iceberg.

You were angry.

And everyone was gonna know it, too.

"When morning hits, we'll ride out. But once that girl is safe, whatever this is, will be fuckin' through. I'm done."

You stormed off, heading upstairs to go pack your things, not bothering to look at their dumbstruck faces as you walked away.

This group shit was getting too complicated, and you were allowing yourself to become too vulnerable.

Too attached.

The girls leaving, and even Tallahassee talking about striking his own, should've never hurt you as much as it did.

And in the apocalypse, you couldn't afford to waste time and energy sitting and sulking about why people do the things that they do.

Going back to being alone would make things easier.

Going back to being alone would make things better.

...

Or so you kept telling yourself.

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

"The Beast is back," Tal hummed, walking down the front steps of the White House with a smile on his face.

"I cannot wait to get my hands behind the-WHAT THE FUCK?!"

In front of him stood a blue and rusty gold mini-van, which Columbus and Wichita were walking towards.

It reminded you that Little Rock had stolen the Beast.

The car that you'd spent hours upon hours upon hours perefecting.

'I'm gonna fuckin' shoot her when I see her.'

"No, no, no, no, no, no. No way is that GD minivan even sniffing at Graceland, home to perhaps America's finest automobile. Elvis' 1955 Fleetwood Series 60."

"I've seen better," you scoffed, putting on your tactical gloves and lifting up the hood of the minivan for inspection.

"You shut your mouth," he gasped, offended, "You know, it takes a real man to drive a pink Cadillac. ...Might make that a rule of my own."

Everyone turned to him, brows cocked.

"Second thought, fuck that. Rules are for pussies," he turned to Columbus, "Nothin' personal."

"How could that not be personal? That's, like, my whole thing?"

"Yeah, you're right. It was personal."

"It's gonna be okay."

You shook your head, going back to checking out the car while the others loaded up their stuff.

As Tallahassee walked past, he roughly kicked the side mirror, making it push in.

"Tal!" You scolded, lifting your head from the hood.

"Sorry," he grumbled, walking around to the trunk.

If you two didn't know what you were to each other before, you definitely didn't know now.

The both of you wanted to respect the other's wishes of going out on their own, but you also wanted to stay together.

And no one wanted to step on the other's toes, or make anything too sentimental.

Even though you both wanted nothing more then to be sentimental.

It was quite the stupid situation.

You two might not be the brainiest of the group, but even an idiot could tell you that all this could be solved if you two had an honest and vulnerable conversation.

...

Too bad that would never happen.

You finished up your inspection, glad to see that the car was in good shape, and shut the hood, tossing your things in the passenger seat.

"Everything seems to be in order," you reported, sitting down, "Should take us a little over half way with the gas can I got in the back. But we'll find a gas station before then, or a better car. Whichever comes first."

"All right, then. Let's hit the road," Tally nodded, catching the keys Wichita tossed from the back.

"I got it!" Madison exclaimed, trudging down the stairs with 3 hot pink suitcases in hand.

"What. In. The. Butt?" Tal cocked his head.

"Aw, shit," Columbus sighed.

"Where the hell did she get all the pink luggage?" You asked, confused.

"Hi!" She smiled, waving and walking around back, towards the trunk.

"Are we dropping her off at a no-kill animal shelter or something?" Wichita asked.

"C'mon. She's a human being, all right. We can't just leave her here all alone," Columbus defended.

"Yeah, we can't just leave Columbus' girlfriend," she scoffed in a ditzy voice.

"A minivan. Nice," Madison complimented, attempting to put her bags in the back.

"I'm not gonna feel guilty about this. You left me in the harshest way possible," Columbus stood firm.

"You recovered quickly," she rolled her eyes.

"Can you help me?" Madison asked, her bags too heavy to lift.

"Jesus Christ, can you help her, Tal?" You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling a migraine coming on.

"I got it," he sighed, getting out.

Madison happily got in the car, and in the rear-view, you could see that he pretended to throw in the bags, then shut the trunk door.

"Makkapitew, Ashkuwheteau, Sunukkuhkau," he muttered to himself as he sat back down, starting the car.

"Is he having a seizure?" Madison asked, turning to the rest of you.

"I'm trying out Blackfoot names, so full shushy or you go back in your mall fridge," he corrected.

"Oh, I didn't tell you," Columbus smirked, turning to Wichita, "We met at the mall."

"Yeah, I was living there. Like Dawn of the Dead," Madison agreed, "Last I checked, it's the post-acropolis."

'Fuckin' Christ, how is this girl still alive?'

"It was so sad when the acropolis struck," Wichita sarcastically agreed.

"Hey, Madison, remind me. When we first met, did you point a gun at me and steal my car?" Columbus rhetorically asked.

"No," she smiled, "When we first met, I told you you were really smart. And then I slept with you."

"That's right," he nodded, slightly embarrassed, "You did."

"Tal, for the love of everything holy, go" you sighed, massaging your temples.

"Woohoo! Road trip!" Madison cheered.

"This is gonna be a long drive," he sighed, pulling off onto the street.

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee #tallahassee x reader #zombieland #zombieland double tap x reader #zombieland double tap #zombieland x reader

[dantakeyoman]

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐨

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐎𝐍𝐄

The last six years had been the best years of your life, including pre-Z day.

...

Okay, maybe not best, but very high up there.

Never, in this life or the next, would you have guessed that these people would become such an important part of your life.

Or that your relationship would begin to feel nothing short of familial.

Save for Tallahassee, of course.

You had taken on a sort of motherly figure towards Little Rock, and for Wichita and Columbus...

Maybe one of those laid back aunts?

Anyways, your East Coast tour with the apocalyptic Brady Bunch had brought you to the White House...or whatever's left of it.

The five of you decided to hole up there for a little while and rest in style.

But after a month or so of being cooped up in the mansion, you decided to take up your own form of relaxation by working on one of the limos left in the White House Garage.

It actually worked as a sort of bonding activity for you and Tal, seeing as he was looking for something to fill the Cadillac Escalade sized hole that had been left in his heart.

"I love you so much, baby," Tallahassee cooed, lifting his welding mask with a look of pure admiration, "You're gorgeous."

You rolled out from under the car and lifted your grease smudged goggles, shooting him a glare.

And as if he could feel your gaze, he turned to you, changing his tune.

"Of course, not as much as you, darlin'," he assured, flipping his mask back on and getting to work, "The Beast here's a close second."

"Lucky me," you sarcastically smiled, standing up and grabbing a rag to wipe your hands, "Ya hear that, Little Rock? I'm a narrow first to a car."

She laughed, sitting herself on the table and handing you your toolbox.

You and Tallahassee still hadn't hashed out exactly what you were, or labelled it in any sort of way.

You two had kissed, made out, fucked, but never actually talked about what it meant to one another.

Shoot, you two hadn't even said the L word yet.

But it was just known within the group that you were together exclusively, no names attached, and that was the way it would most likely stay.

"Just goes to show that romance is a bust. There'll always be a tricked out car ready to replace you."

Little Rock looked like she was thinking for a moment, before a smile stretched on her face.

"Well, maybe being first to a car wouldn't be so bad...if we find someone for me," she suggested.

Just as you were about to respond, Tal lifted his mask with an obnoxious laugh.

"Shouldn't be a problem," he chuckled, "As long as you're open to dating zombies."

You facepalmed.

Sometimes you wondered if he had the bone that helps you sympathize just completely taken out his body.

"So you're saying what? I'm never gonna find a boyfriend? Or get married? Have a family?" She asked.

"We're your family, so one outta three ain't bad," he shrugged.

You sighed, covering your face.

That was the worst possible answer.

In an upset huff, Little Rock stormed off, leaving the garage.

And when she was completely gone, you hit Tal in the head with a bolt.

"Ow!" He winced, sharply turning to you as he rubbed the area, "The hell was that for?"

"You need to stop babyin' her," you scolded, starting to pack up your tools and such for the day, "She's eighteen, and she feels a little cooped up at the moment. It's normal. We just gotta find her some people to hang out with."

"We're people," he scoffed, muffled by his mask as he turned off his blow torch.

"Other people her age, Tally," you clarified, turning to him with a tired look.

He let out his own sigh, climbing out the tiny cock-pit of the Beast and taking off his mask.

"I don't understand why she's so antsy. We got everythin' you could ever want right here," he shook his head, undoing his welding apron.

"She's an adult, and she has needs," you started, putting your toolbox in its assigned cabinet, "Needs which, believe it or not, will not be satisfied by killin' zombies or fixin' up cars."

He tilted his head, confused about what you were talking about.

Until you raised your eyebrows with a knowing look, and the realization hit

"She's too young," he immediately denied.

You scoffed.

"How old were you when you had your first?"

...

"That's not important."

"I rest my case," you smirked.

"Even if that was something that was...needed...there isn't a soul for miles," he waved you off.

"Well then maybe soon, we might wanna travel some miles to find her somebody," you huffed, starting to get frustrated with his stubbornness.

"Who? Some random twenty somethin' that wants ta get his wick wet? Or a desperate teen that doesn't know his own ass from a hole in the ground?"

Fair point.

You scoffed.

Annoyingly fair point.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him to finish cleaning up.

Tal smiled to himself, happy he had won the argument, but after a minute or so, he noticed that you were still icing him out.

And he'd rather have lost then face your cold shoulder.

So he rested his hands on your waist and gently turning you around to face him.

You cocked an eyebrow, and he placed a kiss on your hairline.

"I just wanna do what's best for her. You know that," he said sincerely, leaning his forehead into yours.

In your head, you cursed at yourself, pissed and embarrassed that you were already melting for him.

You knew he hated the cold shoulder.

He knew you liked it when he got soft all of a sudden.

You knew that he hates it when you don't react.

And he knew you went crazy for his accent.

Unstoppable force meets immovable object.

...

You caved.

"You love playin' me for a sucker, donchu?"

He chuckled.

"My favorite pass-time."

"I hate you."

"Wasn't what you was sayin' two nights ago."

"You're sleepin' on the couch."

"An' you're comin' with me," he smirked, pulling you in for a kiss.

You rolled your eyes, but eased into it, throwing your arms over his shoulders.

'This man's gonna be the death of me.'

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

"Hello? Ho, ho, ho!" Tallahassee smiled, popping out from behind his Christmas tree, "Merry Christmas!"

He was dressed in a red blazer with a Santa hat and cotton balls he'd glued in the shape of a beard.

'Oh, no.'

"Hey, Tal," Little Rock sighed.

"Santa," he corrected.

Columbus and Wichita were trying desperately not to laugh, and you pinched the bridge of your nose, tired.

He plopped himself down in a chair, patting his knee for Little Rock to sit, "What would you like for Christmas, little girl? A pony?"

"No, I'd actually really like you to stop calling me little girl," she shook her head.

"Well, technically, you are little and you're a girl," he corrected again.

"Well, uh, I am not a little girl, Santa," Columbus chimed, handing his gun to Wichita and sitting down on Tal's knee, "But do you know what I would like?"

"I don't give a fuck what you like," Tal denied in his Santa voice, shoving Columbus off his knee.

"I'm getting a drink," you sighed, walking over to the President's desk and grabbing his mug, pouring yourself some bourbon.

"That reminds me," Wichita perked up with a smile, "Gifts. We have gifts."

Everyone took a seat on the couches as she grabbed a brown paper bag out from under the tree and handed it to Columbus.

"Oh my God," he went wide eyed with a smile as he pulled out a book, "It's a first edition Tolkien. And you wrote in it. There's my name right there, marring this perfectly preserved paper. And yours, too."

"I actually drew the portrait of you in the back," you smirked, kicking up your feet on the table.

He flipped the book over, opening to the back page to see you had made a horribly drawn stick caricature of him that had an odd emphasis on his hair.

"You didn't stop. Thank you so much," he smiled, giving you a thankful nod before moving to Wichita's couch and giving her a kiss.

"Touching," Tal nodded, going over to the tree and picking up a present, handing it to Little Rock, "I couldn't find any wrapping paper but don't worry, just tear it open. It doesn't matter. S'only Taft."

He literally wrapped the present with a painting of Former President William Howard Taft.

"He was our fattest president, so there's actually quite a lot left over. If you need some wrapping paper," he sighed, "Columbus, I didn't get anything from you."

"I didn't get anything from you," you added, taking a sip of your bourbon.

"Your gift's later," he assured, giving you an awful wink-smirk combination.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the others caught on to what he was implying.

"With Santa..." Columbus shook his head disapprovingly.

"No one wants to know that," Little Rock shivered.

"Do you ever get sick of sleeping on the couch?" You wondered out loud.

You weren't against the present, not one bit.

But the concept of time and place is something that Tallahassee just couldn't grasp.

Little Rock had torn through the Taft wrapping paper and opened the box to see that it was a fancy looking revolver.

"Just what I wanted. Another gun," Little Rock sarcastically smiled, visibly sinking at the sight of it

"Oh, hey, well, not just any gun. A Colt .45," Tal corrected, pulling out the weapon, "And not just any Colt .45, the King's."

"England? Denmark? Lichtenstein?" Columbus guessed.

"Here we go," you sighed, already knowing what was coming.

He'd talked your ear off so many times about him that you might as well have known the man personally.

"There's only one king," Tal held up a finger, posing like a certain 50s rockstar, "Elvis Aaron fuckin' Presley, the greatest who ever lived. The king of kings."

"Yup," you popped the p, taking another sip of your drink.

"He gave this gun to Nixon when he visited the White House, and I give it to you locked and loaded," Tal smiled, handing it back to her, "Yeah, he used to shoot that Colt in his backyard. King's palace. Memphis, Tennessee. I tell you about Graceland?"

"Only like a hundred times," Little Rock quickly answered.

"We'll go there together someday," he nodded.

"Actually, I'm gonna go shoot this right now," she stated, standing up, "I think I saw some Zs down by the reflecting pool."

"I'll go with," he suggested, but more like insisted.

"I'll go by myself," she assured, frustration showing plainly on her face.

'Oh, shit.'

"It's Christmas," he gasped, offended.

"It's not fucking Christmas, it's November 17th," she scoffed, walking out and slamming the door behind herself.

Tal looked shocked at her sudden outburst, and also slightly hurt.

You groaned, letting your head fall back for a moment.

'It's like shit just goes into one ear and right out the other with this man.'

"Tallahassee, what did we discuss a couple days ago?" You rhetorically asked.

He paused for a moment, slightly nerved by the use of his full name and the sudden question.

...

"I need to stop babyin' her," he answered, the wheels starting to turn.

"And what did you just do?"

".............Baby her."

"Thank you," you smiled, "Now give the damn girl her space."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

"I mean, it's not like I started wedding planning or anything. I'm not crazy," Columbus vented, now going on month two.

"Who wants to get married in winter? Spring, sure."

You, Columbus, and Tallahassee were currently riding motor scooters around a mall, trying to get over the events of last month.

Tal's Santa display was the final straw for Little Rock.

She was sick of him treating her like she was still twelve, and was sick of having no one her age to talk to about it.

And on top of that, a horribly timed proposal from Columbus to Wichita, which made the woman incredibly uncomfortable.

So they took the Beast and hightailed it.

Again.

So for the last two months straight, the only thing Columbus was willing to talk about was Wichita, Wichita, Wichita.

And it was driving you and Tallahassee up a wall.

Until, he eventually broke.

"I mean with my hair and the humidity-." "Oh, my God, man! I cannot listen to this shit anymore! It's been over a month!"

"Yeah, I'm bereft," he agreed.

"I'm giving you one more day to mope around, and then you gotta snap the fuck outta it," Tal sighed, "This whole finding a home idea of yours has made us soft, and by us, I mean you."

"It's high time that we nut up and hit the road again. And by we, I mean me. That's where I belong. Lone wolf. You are welcome to tag along."

You sighed, massaging your temple.

You had the feeling that Little Rock was going to crack soon.

You knew something like this was gonna happen.

And yet you had done nothing to prevent it.

Now, you were paying the price.

The girls gone.

The guys arguing.

And one skull-splitting headache.

The snarls of a zombie snapped you out of your self-reproaching thoughts, and you let out a sigh of relief.

It was huddled near the mirror of a destroyed clothing store, dressed as if she was once a shopper there.

Tallahassee lifted his gun, about to shoot it when you held your arm out in front of him.

"I'm taking this one," you stated in a tone that left no argument, hopping off your scooter.

The two men turned to each other, one with a look of worry and one with a look of pride.

The zombie continued to hiss, staying in its place as you walked closer, a pissed look on your face.

Noticing a halfway broken bottle on the ground, you kicked it into the monster's face, it letting out an agitated roar and sprinting towards you.

You quickly unsheathed the crowbar from your pants loop and wound up your swing, slamming a full force hit right into the zombie's face.

It fell to the ground, gurgling and spitting up blood, but you pressed on, bashing the poor thing in any and every spot you could reach.

Until eventually it looked like a pile of mushy, bloody ground meat.

"That's gotta be, like, a thirteen-tuple tap," Columbus chimed, feeling sorry for the zombie as you were still beating the living shit out of it, "I'm pretty sure it's dead."

Landing a final hit on her face, you stopped, panting as you looked down at your work.

...

'Yikes.'

Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely about Little Rock.

In all honesty, Tallahassee's talk about striking out on his own made something pang in your chest.

Something sharp.

Something that had never happened before.

You were self-aware enough to know that you'd gotten seriously attached to the man over the last six years, and while he was a major pain in the ass, it would be incredibly hard for you to press on without him.

So, seeing and hearing him say so easily that he should just go off on his own, made you feel like shit.

And a little ashamed, too.

"Got it all out your system?" Tallahassee cockily asked, practically glowing.

He was proud to say that you were his gal.

His sexy, zombie-beating gal.

"Yeah," you caught your breath, tossing the crow bar, "Just needed a punching bag."

"Y'know, I never told y'all this before," he started, your display suddenly reminding him of something, "In fact, I never told anybody."

You turned around to face him, cocking a brow.

Columbus was also intrigued.

"But I have Native American blood coursing through my veins."

...

You did your best to suppress a snicker.

"Like, right now?" Columbus asked, fighting back a smile.

"Yeah, right now. Blackfoot Indian to be exact," Tal nodded, stepping off his scooter and walking over to one of the stores, "The freest men in history. Mid-1800s, roamed the plains, no houses, no laws, no possessions, no chiefs to report to, no wives to listen to."

'Wonder how long they lasted.'

"They listened....to the call of the Buffalo," he smirked, starting to push a bunch of jewelry off a table, "And the hunted those buffalo by herding them off the cliff to their deaths. The Great Buffalo Jump."

You rolled your eyes and turned around to go look for another blunt force object, already sensing a rant coming on.

And Columbus did, too, whipping around his scooter to look for a candle store.

"I don't know why I never told anyone about my Blackfoot blood. I guess it's just a sacred little secret. Honestly, you two are the first non-tribesmen I have genuinely trusted because you've always been there for me. You care and you listen. You really listen."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee #zombieland x reader #zombieland #zombieland double tap #zombieland double tap x reader

[dantakeyoman]

i saw ur ron post and the idea is amazing but the “i think i’m owed a little snogging” part is kinda awkward LMAO

like it doesn’t really make any sense..?

im not sure what u mean by it not making sense. “i think im owed a little snogging” is like “i think im owed some kisses”. he says it as a joke after he saves you.

#sorry for the little spoiler #couldn’t think of another way to explain it #hope that cleared it up

[dantakeyoman]

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐒𝐈𝐗

The next morning was...shocking to say the least.

Columbus and Wichita were close to kissing last night, but Tallahassee, being butt-hurt that he got cock-blocked, decided to pay it forward.

If he couldn't get kissed, no one could.

And apparently, it was a wake up call for Wichita, because come morning, her and Little Rock were gone, along with a couple guns, some snacks, and the Hummer.

Tal and Columbus got into an argument over whether or not they should go after them, and it ended with the two deciding to go separate ways, you siding with the cowboy.

So now here you were, helping the man pack one of Murray's many cars for your trip to Mexico, which Tal's next stop in his search of a Twinkie.

As he loaded the last box, you turned around, walking over to Columbus, who was saddling up on a motorcycle.

"You sure you wanna do this? Y'know, there's always a seat open for you. Tex might not wanna admit it, but he enjoys your company," you started with a sincere smile, keeping your voice low, "...And...maybe you're not a complete pain in the ass."

He smiled, slightly taken aback.

That had to be the nicest thing you'd said to him...ever.

"Thanks," he smiled, "But, I wanna be with Wichita."

You sighed, but understood, "In that case....try not to die."

He nodded, and turned to Tal, who had just walked over and leaned up against the wall, clad in the snake-skin jacket he stole from Bill's closet, since you were currently wearing his.

"I'm, uh...I'm not great with farewells, so..." he sighed, "that'll do, pig."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose at the horrible reference.

Why you liked this man, you would never know.

"That's the worst goodbye I've ever heard," Columbus shook his head, already half-way expecting something like this, "and you stole it from a movie."

Tal walked past, giving him a firm pat on the back, before heading towards the car, "Tell they girls I said hey."

You followed, giving him a much softer pat and a smile, before heading over to the passenger seat.

"Y'know," Columbus started as he strapped on his helmet, making Tal turn around, "their pictures were someone's wallet, too."

And with that, he rode off.

...

Right into the bushes.

You turned to Tally, your face saying he's not gonna survive two minutes without our help.

The two of you hadn't exactly hashed out what you were after last night, but you hoped, and halfway prayed, that your word still held the same merit.

He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek as he shook his head.

That boy was going to be the death of him.

He looked over to you, nodding to get in the car, and you smiled, quickly hopping in.

As much as you'd hate to admit it, the little geek had grown on you.

And as hilarious as it might be, you didn't want to see him get mauled by a zombie as he tried and failed to ride a motorcycle.

Tal turned on the headlights and pulled up the car next to the boy, rolling down the window.

"Hop in the car, Evel Knievel," he smirked, "Let's go ride the rollercoaster."

Columbus smiled as he stood up and dusted himself off, grabbing his bag and hopping in the backseat.

"Thanks," he nodded.

"You didn't break anythin', didya?" You asked, holding back your snickers.

He sighed, already knowing what was coming.

"No, Jersey, I didn't."

"Good, 'cause that shit was hilarious."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

As the three of you pulled into the parking lot of Pacific Playland, your eyes went wide, and you turned to each other in surprise

Surrounding the park, and even inside it, was a large horde of zombies, seemingly agitated by the bright lights and loud sounds.

There was no way the girls had enough firepower to get themselves out of this.

"Columbus? Jersey?" Tal started as he stepped out the vehicle to get a better look at the murderous crowd of monsters.

"Tallahasse?" The two of you answered.

"I think they might actually require our assistance this time."

You and Columbus nodded in agreement, and he sat back down, shutting the door and switching gears.

"Buckle up."

"Yup, way ahead of you," Columbus nodded, tightening his seat-belt.

You rolled your eyes, clicking in yours, "Dork."

Once everyone was secure, Tal smirked.

"Time to nut up or shut up," he slammed the gas, breezing right through the open gate and towards some zombies.

"Holy shit," Columbus gasped, surprised by the sheer amount there was.

Quickly grabbing Tal's uzi, you rolled down your window, decimating the crowd with a smile on your face.

And Tally finished the job by rolling them over, making sure to crush all their skulls.

Columbus grimaced, reminded of how much you two truly scared him, "You guys are like...apocalyptic Bonnie and Clyde."

"Damn right," you smirked, already starting to load up the shotgun.

"My momma always told me someday I'd be good at somethin'," Tal smiled, driving through the park, "Who'd have guessed that somethin' would be zombie-killin'?"

"Probably nobody," Columbus nodded.

Noticing a destroyed game booth, Tal pulled over, and Columbus quickly got out the car.

"Oh, no. No," he panted, his breath picking up as he stared at the harbor.

You cocked a brow, slinging your rifle over your shoulder and picking up your AK, walking over.

Only to understand.

The Hummer was in the water, nearly completely sunk.

"Holy shit," you winced, wide eyed.

Where they in there?

Where they all right?

How the fuck did they crash the Hummer?

"Hey! Hey! Ohio!" "Help! Over here!" Two familiar voices shouted.

Looking around for the source, Columbus found it at the top of the drop tower.

They were stuck at the top of the drop tower.

"Oh my God," he turned around, walking over to Tal, who was suiting up his bullet-proof vest, "They're up there. They're okay."

"What are you waitin' for? That's your gal," Tal smirked, pulling out an airhorn.

He honked it, starting off in the opposite direction.

"Come on!" He shouted, "Come get a piece of Tallahassee!"

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your last two grenades out your bag and turning to Columbus.

"Go get 'er, Romeo. We'll be waitin' for ya when you get back," you assured with a smile.

He smiled back, giving you a firm nod.

"Anybody hungry?! Tallahassee's nice this time of year! Come on!" Tally continued to shout, honking the goddamn horn, "Come on, you ugly bastards!"

And like a giant dinner bell, a crowd of zombies came running after him, along with the horde that surrounded the drop tower.

'Shit.'

"Let me go before this man gets himself killed," you sighed, biting off the pin and tossing one of your grenades at the group.

Throwing your AK over your shoulder, you counted off in your head as you sprinted towards the duck shoot.

Jumping onto the counter, you grabbed onto the edge of the roof and hoisted yourself up, laying down on your stomach and propping up your rifle.

The grenade blew, and zombie bodies went flying everywhere, burnt to crisp.

You got way more than you expected, but there were still quite a few left, and all of them were now running towards your booth.

"Line up, duckies," you smirked, closing an eye as you took aim.

And with that first kill, you were gone.

You went crazy, looking, aiming, and shooting all in one motion, like a well-oiled machine.

Five on the left. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Three on the right. BAM! BAM! BAM!

Eight heading straight for you. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

A fat one was hobbling quickly towards you, and you smirked.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

"Triple points," you smiled.

Just then, you heard a growl come from behind you.

Whipping around, you saw that a zombie was hoisting itself up.

Surprised, you pulled the trigger, but it made that heart-wrenching click.

You were out, and had no ammo on you

"Fuck it," you spat as it ran at you, jumping up and hitting it upside the head, cracking its skull.

Now that it was off balance, you kicked it off the roof, making it smash what was left of it's head on the concrete.

Expectantly, you turned around, drawing your glock from your pants and shooting the three zombies about to jump you.

Running to the edge of the roof, you jumped, grabbing your rifle and using it to zip-line down the string lights attached to the ground.

You tumbled, but quickly got back up as the sound of more of them was already drawing closer.

Quickly, you grabbed your last grenade, looking at it one last time.

"Make me proud," you wished, giving it a quick peck before pulling the ring and tossing it over your shoulder.

Now you kicked it into third gear, sprinting away as fast as your legs could carry you, turning every few seconds to shoot the last bit of ammo from your AK.

"Shit, shit, shit. Any second would be great!" You shouted, as if the grenade could hear you.

Luckily, it acted like it did, going off the second you finished.

The zombies were caught in the fiery explosion, killing them instantly, and allowing you to finally slow down and catch your breath.

"Finally," you panted, annoyed with the monsters' persistence.

'You'd think bein' all decayed an' shit would slow 'em down.'

"Why hello there, ma'm," a familiar voice smirked, you looking up to see Tallahassee standing on top of a booth with a mound of dead zombies next to him.

In a sort of sick way....it was kinda hot.

"Come 'round here often?"

You smiled in disbelief, impressed, as you walked up the dead bodies to get to him on the roof.

"I bet you feel like the belle of the ball," you smirked, crossing your arms.

"Darlin'," he grabbed you by your waist, pulling you into his chest, "You know me so well."

Your face suddenly felt flaming hot, and you threw an arm around his neck to ground yourself.

"You ain't had nothin' to drink, have you?"

You smiled, remembering the reference from last night.

"Not one drop," you assured, leaning your forehead into his.

He smirked, "Good."

Without a moments hesitation, his kissed you, so rough and passionately that he had to hold you by your back so you wouldn't go falling over.

Allowing your eyes to flutter shut, you rested your hand on his cheek, leaning to it with a smile.

It really made you regret not doing this last night.

He kissed you like you were the last woman in the world, and the only woman ever.

Because you were to him.

You were a strong, sexy, rough and tumble, zombie-killing Jersey woman.

And you were his.

Opening your eyes for a moment, about to separate the kiss, when you caught a glimpse of something too good to be true.

"Hey, cowboy," you smirked, pulling away and flicking the brim of his hat.

Tal cocked a brow.

"I think your search is over," you smiled, nodding behind him and towards a small store that sold fried Twinkies.

He whipped around, a wide smile spreading on his face as he got a look at the sign.

He turned to face you, "Imma have to put a pause on this-." "Go get your damn Twinkie, Tex."

Without another word, he jogged down the dead zombie pile, running into the store.

You followed him at a walk, meeting up with Columbus, Wichita, and Little Rock.

"Where's Florida?" Wichita asked, surprised he wasn't with you.

The entirety of the group, including Tallahassee, knew that the man was pretty much your husband and wherever you were, he was never too far away.

"He's gettin' his jollies," you nodded to the store, walking in with the group following you.

"Where are you, you spongy, yellow, delicious bastards!" Tal shouted, kicking over a lollipop stand, "Where are you?!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Columbus tried to calm him down as he picked up a glass jar.

"False advertising!" Tal shouted, throwing the glass at the sign that said Deep Fried Twinkies.

It didn't satisfy him enough.

He threw a jaw of gumballs as well.

"Jesus Christ," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Columbus walked over to Tal as he approached the back room, "You want a Sno Ball or something?"

Tal turned around, giving him an annoyed look at the very mention of that disgusting excuse for food.

But before he could say anything, something moved in the back room, making a loud clang.

And jumpy as ever, Columbus shot at it, making two large holes in the door.

Tal approached, slowly pushing open the door and turning on the light, only for a couple rats to run out.

But he paid them no mind, going straight for the box that Columbus shot, sticking his hand in and pulling out the decimated remains of whatever Twinkies were left.

'Oh, shit.'

Tal held them tightly in his hand, slowly turning to Columbus with frustration stretched tightly across his face.

"Words cannot express," Columbus held up his hands in surrender, probably more sorry than anyone's ever been sorry.

But Tal shook his head, "It's too soon."

"Do you think you could just pick out the buckshot and just kinda eat around it?" The boy suggested.

Tal immediately threw it on the ground, and Columbus got the message.

Just then, you heard the rev of an engine.

Whipping around at the noise, you realized the girls were gone as well.

'No. Fuckin'. Way.'

"No!" Columbus exclaimed, running out the shop, you and Tally close behind.

When you got outside, right there was the car, about to be driven off with.

"I'm sick of this," you scoffed, pulling out your glock and aiming for one of the tires.

But, just as you were about to shoot, the car stopped.

Wichita stuck her head out the window with a sly smile, and Little Rock popped her head out the sunroof.

With a smile, Little Rock tossed Tal a single Twinkie, him catching it with a look of utter joy.

Opening the package, he took a bite, looking like he was about to be brought to fucking tears.

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, approaching the car.

"Thank you so much," Columbus followed.

"You had us goin' there," Tal agreed.

The three of you filed into the backseat, and then slowly pulled off, about to head who knows where.

Until some random fat zombie ran over, banging into your door.

"For fuck's sake," you yawned, quickly kicking out the door and knocking it down, shooting it three times in the head.

Lazily, you pulled the door shut, clicking the safety and tucking the gun in your pocket, leaning over to fall asleep on Tal's shoulder.

Not even noticing the look he was giving you.

...

He was in love.

No doubt about it.

You had literally just solidified it for all time.

Who knew that it'd take a zombie fucking apocalypse for him to find the love of his life?

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee #zombieland x reader #zombieland

[dantakeyoman]

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

You knocked on the door of Tallahassee's temporary bedroom, waiting patiently for him to answer.

A groan came from the other side, and after some shuffling and a string of curses, the man opened the door.

He looked exhausted, ready to chew out whoever was knocking on his door so late, but the second he laid eyes on you, his face softened.

"Now a good time?" You asked, not wanting to disturb him.

"Yeah, yeah," he quickly nodded, stepping back to open the door, using his hand to rub the sleep off his face, "I was just catchin' up on some sleep."

"Well," you smirked, walking in and turning around so he couldn't see behind you, "I figured after such a shitty end to the day, you'd wanna share a drink."

He shut the door and turned around, cocking a brow.

A drink?

You pulled out an old-looking bottle of Jack Daniels from behind your back, looking at it proudly.

"Aged sixteen years. Forty-five percent," you stated as you red the label, walking over to his bed and sitting down, "Bill musta been savin' it for a special occasion."

You looked up at him with a mischievous expression, and he smirked, slowly walking over.

"You woke me up...at one in the morning...to get hammered?" He sat down.

"And talk," you added with a knowing smile.

He raised a brow, "And talk?"

...

You caved.

"Fine," you sighed, dropping your shoulders, "Numb Nuts and Wichita are goin' at it somewhere, and Little Rock is off doin' who knows what. .....And it's sad for a woman to get drunk by herself."

He chuckled, quite amused by your predicament.

You rolled your eyes, standing up.

"Fine, then," you shrugged with a sly smile, "Guess I'll take me and my fancy whiskey elsewhere..."

"Don't even think about it, missy," he grabbed your arm, yanking you towards him.

Losing your balance, you sat down on his lap with an oof, slightly taken aback.

You turned to him with an air of surprise, and he smirked, using the distraction to his advantage and taking the bottle from your hand, popping open the cork.

"S'like wavin' a carrot in front of a horse. Can't threaten me with a good time an' then pick up an' leave," he stated, matter-of-factly.

You raised a brow with a smile, "I'm havin' a hard time tellin' whether you're talkin' about the booze or me."

He shrugged, taking a swig, "Take a wild guess."

You scoffed, taking the bottle back and swishing it around, "I think I'm a little too sober for that one."

"Fair 'nuff," he chuckled, looking up at you.

You were so fuckin' pretty.

It was quite literally driving him insane.

He'd gotten so lost in you, that he hadn't even noticed his hands had, instinctively, slid up your thighs, finding purchase on your hips.

Your face suddenly felt hot, and the touch of his hands burned even hotter.

'Fuck.'

"Gettin' a little frisky, are we?" You quickly played off, handing him back the bottle.

"I'd do no such thing," he smirked, shaking his head, "I'm a perfect gentleman. Just keepin' you secure, is all."

You let out a suspicious hum, but left it be for now, letting him punctuate his sentence with a gulp of whiskey.

Accepting you'd be there for the long run, you shifted in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position.

And Tal had nearly bit through the bottle trying to prevent a groan from escaping his lips.

You had rubbed right up against his dick, which was already growing painfully hard and straining against his jeans.

It was embarrassing.

You'd think being a grown ass man, he'd be able to control himself.

But no.

The second he came anywhere near you, it was like he was a teenager again.

And after all his big talk, he couldn't just ask you to give him a minute.

You were smart. You'd know exactly what he'd be leaving to do.

The only thing he could do was ride it out and pray you wouldn't notice.

"Y'know, I felt bad for Murray when he.....y'know," you started, snapping him out of his frantic thoughts.

"How come?" He cocked a brow, thankful for the distraction, "'Cause Columbus shot 'im?"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I mean...for the entire time before we came, he was all alone. ...I dunno...I guess I just felt sorry he didn't have someone he really cared about to spend his last days, y'know?"

He nodded, now understanding, "I get whatchu mean."

The conversation between Tal and the late actor suddenly flashed in his head, and a burning question suddenly came bubbling up his throat.

Maybe it could prove Bill's theory.

Tal took another swig, allowing the liquid courage to speak for him.

"Y'know, he told me somethin' real crazy while you had gone after the camera," he started, passing off the bottle to you.

"Really?" You cocked a brow, taking it from him and drinking a big gulp, "What did he say?"

The man paused a moment, "He asked me if you were my wife."

You were slightly taken aback, but surprisingly calm.

'A fair guess. I was fussin' over him all day...like an idiot.'

"Why's it so crazy?" You asked with a smile, taking a swig, "I not your type?"

A sentence you definitely would not have said about 20 minutes ago.

It was Tal's turn to be taken aback, not expecting such a bold reply.

But he, too, quickly recovered

"Girl a' my dreams," he patronized with a beaming smile, glad his tone covered the fact that it was one-hundred percent true.

You rolled your eyes, giving his brim a flick and handing over the bottle, "All right, funny guy. What is your type, then?"

"Well," he took a drink, swallowing thickly as he looked up at your expecting face.

Shit.

Even drunk, you were fucking intimidating.

"I'd want a gal that could keep up wit' me," he started, deciding to just go off a list of your traits, "One that could kick ass and take names. The mouthier, the better."

You chuckled, "You just like to fight."

He smirked, "I love to fight."

You rolled your eyes, not surprised at all by his response.

"You're lucky she doesn't blow 'er brains out within the first ten seconds of you," you scoffed.

He gasped, clutching his heart like you'd stabbed him.

"You wound me, darlin', you wound me," he shook his head, turning away from you.

He made his expression one of pain, and clutched the fabric of his shirt like his life depended on it.

You laughed, giving his chest a light shove, "I'm about to wound you in a second."

"All right, all right," he nodded with a chuckle, "Your turn, sunshine. What's your type?"

You paused to think for moment, the train between your brain and your mouth already starting to slow tremendously.

And you were far from a light-weight.

'This shit's the real deal.'

"For me...I'd like a guy real rough 'n tumble. I like 'em rugged," you started, still thinking, "He'd need to be strong.....and handsome....and preferably packin' in a certain department, if you know what I mean."

Yet another thing you wouldn't have dared to say had you not been fuckin' plastered.

Tal was internally giddy, proud and relieved he checked all the boxes, only letting small smile show a fraction of how he truly felt.

There was hope.

Real-life, tangible hope.

Maybe Bill was onto something.

"Speakin' of that just reminded me," he realized with a mischievous smirk, "You never answered my question from couple months ago."

You tilted your head in confusion, already starting to rack your brain, "What question?"

"Right before we came across that zombie-lady eatin' her manwich, I asked you somethin'..." he continued to lead on.

It hit you.

"Ohhh," you nodded.

The wording suddenly came back as well, and you turned into a cherry.

"Oh..." you mumbled.

It was adorable.

It made him just wanna squeeze you.

"Tell me, Princess," he smirked, "When was the last time you were fucked?"

You sighed, looking down at him nervously with those beautiful (e/c) eyes.

"You gotta swear you won't laugh," you asked, trying to get yourself to sound as serious as possible.

"I swear," he nodded, raising his right hand.

You raised your brow suspiciously, and he nodded again, drawing an X on his chest..

"Cross my heart."

You took a deep breath, doing your best to shake off the nerves.

'Here goes nothin'.'

"A couple months before the outbreak. ...That was the last time," you stated, bracing yourself for the teasing.

But it never came.

In fact, Tallahassee was the farthest thing from humored or disappointed at the moment.

He was in disbelief.

There was no way.

A woman like you? Left to satisfy yourself? Not hounded by a single man?

It had to be false.

"You ain't gotta lie..." he started, scanning your face for some sort of joke, "I won't judge, honest."

"It's the truth," you nodded, slightly embarrassed, "And it was some random hookup, too. Didn't even get to come."

Now he was floored.

No boyfriend?! A shitty fling?!

Didn't get to come?!

"That can't be right," he dismissed, unable to believe this, "You had to have had guys linin' up around the block. ...Or at least fightin' over you."

You fought back the blush threatening to creep up on your cheeks, your inner self squealing at the man's compliments.

What was he getting at?

You needed more information.

"Why you say that?" you asked.

He was flabbergasted.

You really didn't know?

"'Cause you're fuckin' gorgeous, darlin'," he exasperatedly sighed, the liquor loosening his lips quite a bit, "You've gotta be the prettiest woman I've ever seen. And the fact that you ain't had men droppin' at your feet just by lookin' attchu is somethin' I can't understand."

You smiled, moved by his words.

Sure, on he outside looking in, it sounded vulgar and crass and not romantic at all.

But knowing Tallahassee, and how he usually was, you knew this was as heartfelt and sincere as he could get.

"You think I'm gorgeous, Tex?" You smiled, leaning in and resting your arms on his shoulders.

He sighed, tightening his grip on your waist as you got closer, deciding there was no point in trying to hide it anymore.

"....Yes," he admitted, taking a deep inhale.

Fuck, how did you smell so good?

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes.

"I hope you know I'm countin' this as a confession," you stated.

He nodded, letting out a small sigh, "Figured."

You smirked, deciding to quote him from a couple months ago, "You say more than one word at a time?"

He flipped you off, and you laughed, leaning in so close your noses were practically touching.

You paused, taking a moment to bask.

Here you were, sitting in the lap of the man who had starred in a countless amount of your dreams, about to kiss him like he was the last man on Earth.

And here he was, the woman of his every fantasy sitting pretty in his lap, him holding you so tight that he thought you'd disappear if he loosened.

...

Oh, if this was a dream, he was gonna kick someone's ass in the morning.

You pulled him in by the back of his neck, slowly closing the gap between your lips.

Until finally...

"Hey, is the second Ghostbusters as good as the first because I-OH MY GOD," Little Rock walked into the room, quickly shielding her eyes at the sight of you on top of him.

You two quickly threw yourselves off each other, clearing your throats as you now sat on opposite sides of the bed.

"I just...wow. ...That's just...wow."

She shook her head, turning around and walking right back out, muttering something about pouring bleach into her eyes as she shut the door.

You sighed, rubbing your face as you desperately tried to recover from the new awkwardness introduced into the room.

Turning to Tal, you could tell just by his face that he wanted to storm out there and wring the little girl by her neck.

It was actually pretty funny.

"Maybe this was for the best," you smiled, reaching over and taking his hat off his head, placing it on yours.

He snapped over to you, flickers of confusion and worry flashing in his eyes.

But you were quick to clarify.

"As handsome as you are, I'd prefer to kiss you when I'm not completely shit-faced."

Leaning over, you carefully grabbed his chin and placed a nice, long peck on his cheek, smiling into it.

It felt nice.

It felt warm and domestic and soft, even with the stubble.

It brought back that feeling the world had before everything went to hell.

Pulling away, you gave him one more smile before turning around and heading towards the door.

"See you in the morning, Tex," you wished, stealing his leather jacket off a hook and exiting the room.

The second you shut the door, he let out a groan, allowing himself to lay back on the bed.

Even though it was just a little peck on the cheek, it still made him feel like he was on cloud nine, in a way no amount of weed or booze ever could.

He felt stupid being so giddy, as if he was a teenage boy and this was his first kiss.

It was gross and soft and not in character for him at all.

And if all this came from just a fucking peck, then imagine how the actual kiss would've felt.

...

He was gonna kill Little Rock in the morning.

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee #zombieland x reader #zombieland

[dantakeyoman]

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

"Looks like anyone who's ever been in a movie lives on this block," Columbus stated, reading the map he picked up as Tally drove you through the Hollywood Hills.

"What exactly you think we're doin' in the 90210, Sally?" Tallahassee smirked.

"I pictured Tom Cruise living somewhere nicer," Wichita stated as you passed his house.

"Definitely," you agreed, watching it go by.

After driving through Arizona and into California, the five of you agreed to keep your little troupe going until you reached Pacific Playland.

Though, Tallahassee had an idea of somewhere you all could crash for some R 'n R.

So that was where you were going first.

"He's a B-lister compared to who I got in mind, folks. We're goin' to the tippy top of the A-list," he assured

"Who?" Little Rock asked.

"You'll see," he cheesed.

Turning the corner, he rode up the driveway of a house with a golden BM on its gates.

"It's a big BM?" Columbus asked.

"And it ain't Bob Marley," Tal quipped.

He pulled over and the lot of you got out, heading in through the ornate front doors.

The place was beyond fancy with golden in nearly every corner, and big, beautiful archways.

It was a gorgeous house.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to La Mancion de Murray," Tal proudly introduced, walking the four of you into a room where a large painting of the famous comedian stood.

"You've gotta be jokin'," you smiled.

"No way. This guy has a direct line to my funny bone," Wichita gasped.

"Whoa, whoa, wait. Who's Bill Murray?" Little Rock asked, confused.

"Hey, I've never hit a kid before," Tal shook his head, disappointed.

"I blame you," you turned to Wichita, "Poor girl wasn't educated."

"I mean, that's like asking who Gandhi is," Tal waved off.

"Who's Gandhi?" The little girl asked again.

You cocked a brow at Wichita, and she scoffed, "She's twelve."

"And you're failing as a parental figure," you shrugged, heading towards the kitchen.

"There's no Twinkies in here," Columbus reported, already having checked every cabinet.

"Shit fuck!" Tally cursed, walking in and kicking a low cabinet.

"Told ya we shoulda gone to Russell Crowe's," you cooed, sitting yourself down on the counter in front of him, "But you don't listen."

"Excuse me for makin' mistake, Miss Perfect," he taunted, rolling his eyes and leaning against the side of the counter.

"Hello? Inside voices," Columbus reminded, picking up his gun, "At least until we know we're alone. Tallahassee, Jersey, take that way. Little Rock, Wichita, come with me."

"Why do I get stuck with her?" Tal complained.

Fakely, of course.

"I'm not jumpin' to be put with you, either, cowboy," you scoffed with a smile, hopping off the counter and bumping him with your hip, heading off in the direction Columbus pointed.

Before he followed you, shut his eyes and took a deep breath, regaining his composure.

You had to be doing this shit on purpose.

No way you weren't.

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

Walking into one of the bedrooms, the two of you shared a look, glancing at the bed, before looking at each other again.

You booked it, but Tal, already guessing your plan, grabbed you by your waist and tossed you back, running for the bed himself.

"Fuckin' cheat!" You exclaimed, recovering and chasing him.

"You snooze, you lose, sweetheart," he smirked, flopping belly first onto the bed.

But you walked over and grabbed him by his ankles, flipping him over the side.

He landed on the floor with a groan, and you happily crawled on the bed, leaning over the edge to look at him.

You grabbed his hat off his head, carefully placing it on your head.

"Guess you could say I gotchu floored, huh?" You smirked.

He looked up at you with a smile, caught off-guard by the horrible pun.

God, you looked so pretty with his hat on your head.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," he denied.

"Oh, c'mon, you've said way worse," you scoffed, crawling over and putting down your feet.

"I just add that charm to it," he smirked, standing up and dusting himself off, "S'a me thing, y'know."

"All right, then. Let me try," you cleared your throat, prepping your voice for his country accent, "Guess you could say I gotchu floored, huh?"

He shook his head, throwing an arm around your shoulder, "Needs work."

"I think the hat should give me extra points," you adjusted it as you two walked into the next room.

It sounded like the other three were watching Ghostbusters somewhere, 'cause the theme song could be heard crystal clear in this room.

Tally threw off his jacket as he shimmied, throwing himself onto the couch and holding up his feet.

"Help me with the boots. C'mon," he bicycled to the music, clapping.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the things, yanking them off and tossing them somewhere.

"Thanks, doll," he smiled, sitting up.

"Sure," you blushed, quickly covering by picking up the golf club and balls you found in the corner of the room.

You set up shop were you found them, picking out a ball and winding up your swing, smacking it into the fireplace.

Tally was back up again, horribly dancing to the music still playing, humming along here and there.

You wound up another swing, hitting the ball into the wall, making it roll off somewhere.

Behind the music, you could've sworn you heard the sounds of footsteps, but you paid it no mind.

Probably just one of the others.

Or maybe some sort of creaking.

This place was abandoned, after all.

You didn't really care either way.

It was the one time you could finally let your guard down, finally let loose and live life past the nightmare outside.

You already had enough to worry about.

You wound up again, a little anger fueling your swing as the ball smacked into the window sill, ricocheting off a whole bunch of things until it hit Tallahassee in the face.

He groaned, and dropped to his knees, before allowing himself to fully flop on the ground.

"Shit!" You winced, quickly running over, and kneeling down in front to him "Tally, I am so sorry. It was an accident."

The footsteps had gotten louder but you still ignored it, more focused on making sure your cowboy was all right.

You lifted his chin, checking his eyes to make sure he didn't have a concussion, and they looked fine until they went wide, landing on something behind you.

"Bill Murray, you're a zombie?" He winced.

You quickly whipped around and grabbed your club in one motion, using it to hit Murray in the knees and make him fall.

"Auugh! Ow! I'm on fire!" He shouted in pain, rolling over and clutching his ass, "Ouch!"

"You're not a zombie, you're talkin'....you're okay?" Tal asked, confused, as the two of you stood up.

"The hell I am!" He exclaimed, slowly and painfully, pulling himself up.

'Coulda fooled me.'

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that it was you you," you apologized.

"Are you...? What's with the get up?" Tal asked, referring to the zombie makeup the actor had on for some reason.

"Oh, I do it to blend in. Zombies don't mess with other zombies," he panted, breathing himself through the pain, "Buddy of mine showed me how to do this. Cornstarch. You know, some berries, a little licorice for the ladies."

You nodded, not understanding a single word of what this man was saying.

'Maybe he hit his head, too.'

"Suits my lifestyle, y'know. I like to get out and do stuff. Just played nine holes on the Riviera. Just walked on. Nobody there."

Tal smiled his shouting smile, and you took a deep sigh, prepping your ears.

"Goddamn it, Bill fuckin' Murray!" He exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air, "I had to get that out. I don't mean to gush. This is so surreal. I mean, you probably get this all the time. ....Well, maybe not lately, but I'm such a huge fan of yours."

Bill smiled, bowing a humble thanks.

"I've seen every one of your movies a million times. I even love your dramatic roles and just everything," he continued, "Seven people left in the world, one of them is Bill fuckin' Murray. I know that's not your middle name but I just...I been watching your movies since I was...er...since I could masturbate. Not that the two were connected."

You could tell he was going off the rails a little, so you rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Tal, hon, I think he understands," you snickered, hopefully reeling him in a little bit.

"It's all right. That's why we do it," Bill smiled.

"I love you, Bill. I love you," Tal finished, giving him a quick bow.

"Thank you," he turned to you, noticing that your eyes had set sights on his unruly hair.

"You are staring at me. It's a hairpiece," he assured, lifting it and putting it back down.

"Sorry, no, it was just that you look remarkably like Eddie Van Halen," you laughed.

"I just saw Eddie Van Halen" he nodded.

"No way," you gasped.

"Where?" Tal asked.

"At the Hollywood Bowl."

"How was that?"

"Well, he's a zombie."

You sucked your teeth, "That's a tough break."

The three of you stood there for a moment, awkwardly, until Bill broke the silence.

"Well, how about a little West Coast hospitality. Can I get you something? What would you like?"

You and Tally turned to each other at the same time, sharing the same devilish smirk.

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

A bunch of weed and couple reenactments later, and the three of you were now right outside the home theater, getting ready to send in Bill.

Wichita, Little Rock, and Columbus were in there, watching Ghostbusters, and you and Tal planned to have Bill walk in and scare the shit out of them.

Everyone will scream, everyone will laugh, it was gonna be a grand ol' time.

"Wait, wait, wait," you stopped them, "I saw a Polaroid in the other room. I wanna get a pic of Doofus' face."

The two men nodded and you quickly scurried off to find the camera, excited.

They both were warmed at how giddy and relaxed you looked, but Bill could tell that Tal was enjoying it a great deal more than him.

"Your wife's lovely. A very kind woman," Bill complimented, leaning against the wall.

"Oh, you're seein' her happy. Wait 'til you piss 'er off," Tally scoffed with a smile.

After a moment's delay, he finally processed the sentence, snapping his head over to the actor, "Wait, wife?"

"Yeah," Bill nodded, cocking a brow, "You guys are married, right?"

"Oh, no, no, no, we're not like that," Tal assured, "Just very good friends."

Bill's eyebrows flattened almost immediately, and he gave the man a very sarcastic look.

People were still doing this shit at the end of the world?

"You're joking, right?" He asked, wondering if this was all a big joke.

Tal shook his head.

Bill sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "That's impossible. You two are very obviously in love."

"Nah," Tal shook his head again, crossing his arms, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I may be sweet on the gal, but she's too good for me. She deserves someone better."

"Don't know if you took a look outside lately, but last I checked, there is no one better," Bill corrected.

"And even if there was, that woman is still blatantly in love with y-." "Sorry for the wait, I got lost," you came back, camera in hand.

The two men quickly clammed up, covering any sort of hint as to what they were talking about before.

"So Columbus is the scared one?" Bill asked, slipping on his wig as if nothing happened.

Must be all the acting.

"Yeah. He's like a little mouse," you nodded, holding the camera at the ready.

Tal was still lost in deep thought, replaying his conversation with Bill.

Him being in love with you? ....Possibility

You being in love with him? No way in hell.

Bill had to be pulling his leg. It was impossible.

If it was true, surely he would've seen some sort of sign from you.

But you'd done nothing out of the ordinary....to his recollection.

"I'll get him," Bill assured, holding up his arms like a zombie, "Watch this.

He skulked into the theater, loudly groaning and grunting like a zombie.

And Columbus yelped in fright.

But just as you popped in the door to snap the picture, Columbus picked up his gun and shot Bill square in the chest, your camera catching the whole thing.

He let out a loud shout of pain and dropped into the closest chair.

"Holy shit!" You exclaimed, everyone quickly rushing to his aid.

"No, no, it's okay, it's okay. I got him," Columbus assured.

"Is that.... how you say hello.... where you're from?" Bill asked, weakly.

Columbus' eyes went wide in realization, and he raked a nervous hand through his hair, "Oh my God. I can't believe I just shot Bill Murray."

Tal shook his head sadly, turning to the poor man, "Mr. Murray?"

"I'm just Bill, I think, now," he sighed.

"Bill...I don't think we're gonna be able to stitch this," Tal admitted.

You rested a soft hand on Bill's shoulder, "You think you can pull through?"

He turned to you, and shook his head, "No."

"If it's worth anything now, I am so sorry. It was just instinctive," Columbus quickly apologized.

"It was my bad," Bill assured, "I was never a very good practical joker."

Little Rock crouched down to his eye level, "So, do you have any regrets?"

He paused for a moment, thinking.

"Garfield, maybe."

'Very fair.'

And with a final, incredibly long breath, Bill Murray, the zombie-impersonating actor, was dead.

Wichita let out a snicker, and everyone turned to her with disbelief.

"I'm sorry. He just gets me," she apologized, her smile quickly falling, "But it still is sad."

You nodded, "Even worse to have a polaroid of it."

You somberly held up the photo, which showed the flash of the gun and Columbus' terrified face, along with Bill's body falling into the chair.

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

After giving Bill a proper send off, and disposing the body, the crew decided the best way to cancel out the depressing end of the day was to play some late night Monopoly.

So here you were, curled up next to Tallahassee as you did your best to stay awake through the painfully boring game

"Ooo, free parking," Wichita commended Little Rock as she landed on the space, "Which is the best thing about Zombieland."

"No, best thing about Z-land, no Facebook status updates," Columbus chimed, "You know, Rob Curtis is gearin' up for Friday. Who cares?"

"The best thing is no more flushing," Tal corrected, taking a bite of his Ding Dong, "Epic."

"And the worst thing about Z-land?" Wichita asked.

"You mean, other than the fact that I shot Bill Murray?" Columbus hung his head.

"That's easy," Tal nodded, "Losin' Buck."

The girls looked confused

"S'his puppy," you yawned, trying to stay awake and present in the conversation.

"I'm gonna tell you, I never thought I could love anything like Buck," he sighed, "He was just...the day he was born, I just lost my mind."

Wichita looked down, guilty, "Sorry."

"We were two peas. He had my personality, my laugh, my appetite."

...

'Laugh?'

And that's when it hit you.

Buck wasn't a puppy.

Buck was a boy.

Buck was his son.

'Holy shit.'

You felt like shit. Pure, bonefide shit.

How had you not noticed the signs?

How had you not noticed that outside your own selfish pool of despair, there were others circling the drain, too?

Tal had gotten choked up, his eyes glassy as he fished something out his pocket.

"We made this wallet together out of duct tape," he sniffled, handing it to you.

You carefully took it, tearing up at the pictures of the little, blonde boy, who was nothing but smiles.

It was adorably homemade, the tape not uniform at all and still a little sticky. But it was clear that it was well loved and held a multitude of memories for Tal.

'Fuckin' hell.'

You handed it back to him, giving his shoulder a comforting rub and shooting a sincere look.

He gave you a small nod of thanks, and started to pull himself together, sniffling for the last time.

"I haven't cried like that since Titantic," he sighed, dabbing away a couple tears with some cash.

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee #zombieland #zombieland x reader

[dantakeyoman]

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

"Knowin' them, it's a trap," Tal scoffed, lowering his binoculars and handing them to Columbus, "Wait here. Drive down if I signal. Princess comes with me."

You shot him a sharp glare, but nodded, grabbing your AK off the hood and cocking it.

After driving for a couple more days, you came across the old Cadillac stranded in the middle of the road.

The hood was up, and it looked abandoned, as if the girls were never there.

Oh, but they were there, somewhere.

You could feel it in your gut.

"You're not gonna shoot them, are you?" Columbus asked, nervous.

"Not unless they shoot at me," you assured with a smirk, starting down the hill with Tally, "Oh, I hope they shoot at me."

As the two of you approached the car, you shot out the tires, just to be safe.

"Not the tires!" Tal cursed you under his breath.

"You don't want them to escape, do you?!" You hissed back.

"My fuckin' Caddy!" He grumbled, seething.

"We got a car twice as good as it up on the hill. Stop whining and check the backseat," you rolled your eyes, crouching to check under the vehicle.

He muttered some more curses at you but complied, quickly checking the backseat and seeing no one there.

You got up and walked over to the open hood, where it looked like the engine was smoking.

Tearing off a piece of cloth from the shirt that was hanging on the hood, you used it to touch some parts of the engine, checking it out.

"Got some residue on the engine block. S'what's causing all the smoke," you stated, Tal walking over to join you.

"You some car nut?" He asked.

"Was a mechanic before the world went to shit," you corrected, "Best damn job in the world."

"Grease monkey?" He cocked a brow with a smile.

"Damn right," you smirked up at him, before turning around to face your other car.

You used your fingers to whistle loudly, Columbus getting the message and driving the Hummer up.

"Looks like they hoofed it. Probably headed west," Tal walked over, hopping in the passenger, "Drive slow. And keep your eyes peeled."

You took the backseat, immediately noticing the little girl from before in the back.

"I'm gettin' real sick of your shit," you rolled your eyes, drawing your gun and pointing it at her head.

But she was quick, and trained hers on Tally's neck before you could blink.

The man let out an exasperated sigh, hanging his head.

"I'm really sorry. She was like a crouching tiger," Columbus apologized.

Tal seethed, "You got taken hostage by a twelve-year old?"

"This is why I call you a doofus, Doofus," you sighed.

"Girls mature faster than boys. She's way ahead of where I was at that age," he defended.

"Twelve's the new twenty. Gun, please," she ordered, holding out her hand.

"You know I'm a squeeze and a smile away from makin' you past tense, right?" You cocked a brow, taking off the safety with a click.

"You wouldn't," she scoffed.

"Neither would you," you scoffed back.

The two of you quickly aimed for the sunroof, letting out a shot before returning to position.

"Don't kill me with my own gun!" Tallahassee shouted.

You paid him no mind.

"I like you," you smirked at the girl, impressed.

She let out a small smile at the compliment, before catching herself and going back to normal, "Honk the horn."

"What?" Columbus asked.

"Honk it!"

"Honk the damn horn, Doofus," you groaned.

He quickly honked it, and the other girl stepped out from behind a hay bale, gun drawn.

"Oh, it's your sister...with my gun," he sighed, sticking his hand out the roof and waving, "Hello."

'I'm gonna shoot him before the day's over.'

"Bummer," she sarcastically winced as she came up on the driver's side, gun aimed at Columbus, "Now step away from the vehicle."

"Not if you would like to see your sister's brains on display," you denied, the woman checking the back and seeing that you most definitely had a gun trained on her sister.

Again.

"I take Weirdo's seat, he sits shotgun, and Country goes in the back with you," she offered, turning to you.

You turned to Tally, who looked back at you with a nod.

So you nodded to her, and Columbus got out the car, everyone switching around their seating arrangements.

But you forgot how big this man was, and you were now squished in the back between the twelve-year old adult and the annoyingly charming cowboy.

'Fuck me.'

As soon as Wichita sat down, she turned and pulled a handgun on you.

You quickly switched your target from Little Rock to her, and Tal trained his gun on her as well.

"For fuck's sake, enough! We're being chased by ravenous freaks! Do we not have enough problems?" Columbus exclaimed, turning around to face you all, "Oh, they stole my Hummer. We have trust issues. They piss me off. Get over it! We can't just fucking drive down the road playing I Spy or some shit for hours like five normal-ass Americans?"

He caught his breath, turning back around in his seat.

"Fuck me."

"Whoa," you nodded, shocked.

That's the loudest you'd ever heard him raise his voice.

"I know," he sighed.

"Let me be the mature one here," Tal stated, slowly lowering his gun.

The rest of you carefully followed, and Wichita finally pulled off.

Everyone stayed in wary silence for a long while, until Columbus decided to spark up some conversation.

"So...where are you guys headed?" He asked.

"Pacific Playland," Little Rock answered.

"The amusement park?" Tal cocked a brow.

"Wait, outside LA?" Columbus turned around to face her.

"Yeah, we went there as kids," she smiled.

"That place totally blows," Tal chuckled.

Everyone turned to him with a scolding look, but he shrugged it off, turning to the little girl with a condescending smirk.

"My mind. It's so fun. Just perfect entertainment for the whole family."

"That's country for I'm a fuckin' dementia patient and should be admitted," you pinched the bridge of your nose.

"You act like you're such a spring chicken," he scoffed with a smirk, knowing the comment would get on your nerves.

"Thirty gives me spring chicken status, asshole," you spat, shooting him a sharp glare.

He smiled.

You were pretty when you were mad.

"I went there as a kid, too," Columbus quickly interrupted, not wanting the two of you to embarrass him in from of Wichita, "In fact, this probably counts as off-season."

"Well, did you guys hear? There are no zombies there," Little Rock smiled.

"Yeah, we heard," Tal nodded, turning to her with an air of annoyance, "Uh, y'know what, I may not shoot you, but you have still royally pissed me off, and I'm not going to play with you at Pacific Playland."

The girl looked slightly hurt, and you rolled your eyes, sitting back in your seat with a sigh.

"Don't worry, he grows on you," Columbus assured, turning to Wichita.

"Really?" She sarcastically asked.

"No, he gets worse," you corrected.

"Okay, how about we play the Quiet Game? Yeah? Starting now," she shut down.

And everyone stayed quiet...until Columbus spoke up again.

"Oh, um, I've actually been meaning to ask you. Did you hear anything about Columbus, Ohio?" He asked.

"You never played the Quiet Game?" She asked.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"No? Well, they're playing it in Columbus," she stated, coldly, "It's a total ghost town. It's burned to the ground."

That was fucked.

You cleared your throat, tapping her shoulder with your gun.

She turned to you, and you nodded towards the doofus, who looked on the brink of tears.

"You're Columbus..." she finally got, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

He didn't answer for once, and instead opted for the window, taking a deep breath.

She paused for a moment, trying to come up with the right words.

"We'll get you a ride. That way you can take it if you wanna go see for yourself, or find somewhere new," she offered.

He turned to her and gave a thankful nod, the two of them sharing eye contact while you and Tal gave each other knowing looks, wiggling your eyebrows.

'Doofus might get some tail after all.'

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

"Who wants to go first?" Tal asked as the five of you stepped foot on the porch of this Native-American themed rest stop.

Everyone was feeling a little cooped up in the car, so you all decided now would be as good a time as any to stretch your legs.

But living in the apocalypse meant being constantly aware of your surroundings.

And someone had to check things out first.

"Dibs," you smirked, stepping forward.

"After you, Princess," he taunted with a pretend bow.

You rolled your eyes, kicking up a rock from the ground and catching it, tossing it at the small bell hanging from the doorway.

With a loud growl, a zombie suddenly came sprinting out from the back, running straight for you.

Noticing a mallet with tribal paint sitting patiently in a barrel, you grabbed it, smashing the monster right in the face.

It fell over and you were quick to wail on it, not letting up until it's head was completely caved in.

And even then you made sure it was done with a head shot.

Tally let out a long whistle, and you turned back to the group with a proud smile.

You were met with varying different expressions.

Columbus was embarrassed, Wichita and Little Rock were concerned, and Tal was beaming with pride, and a little bit of something else.

"What?" You asked, confused.

"This is why you're my favorite," he chuckled, giving you a firm pat on the shoulder and stepping over the dead body, walking in.

But in all honesty, that rougher than normal pat was the only thing keeping him from tossing you over his shoulder and finding somewhere private.

Since day one, you were a thorn in his side.

A pain in his ass.

You were loud, and opinionated as fuck, and ragged on him any chance you got.

You were cut-throat, and cold, and irritable, and concerning levels of violent.

But you were also funny, and confident to boot, and oh, so fucking sexy it drove him insane.

You were impossibly gorgeous, even while being in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

Your hair, your skin, your curves, your smile, your hot Jersey accent.

In fact, you looked so good that he'd thought you were at least in your early twenties when he first met you.

Not that he discriminated by age, but such a beautiful and capable woman like yourself deserved find someone else better than him, someone younger than him, someone more your speed.

So until that day came, and he could finally start getting over you, he would press his feelings deep, deep, deep down, until he could no longer notice they were there.

You entered the store with a smile, making a beeline for the snack aisle.

"C'mon, you little bastard. Where are you?" You muttered to yourself with a smile, searching for a fridge.

After speed-walking to the end of the aisle, you found yourself staring at a wall of glass fridges, filled with water and sodas galore.

"There is a god," you beamed, starting to scour for that signature red label and delicious brown tint.

"Why do you wanna find this Coke so bad?" Little Rock asked, walking over to stand next to you.

"'Cause it reminds me of the time before the world went to shit," you answered bluntly, not taking your eyes off the wall.

She nodded, staying quiet as you continued to look.

"Gotcha," you smirked, opening one fridge and grabbing a can, the satisfying crack of it opening scratching a very nice part of your brain.

As you took a rough swig, the little girl looked like she wanted to ask another question.

"Back at the other store, when I pretend to get bit, you got really mad," she started.

You cocked a brow, "Yeah.....and?"

"Was it because something like that happened to you?" She asked, looking up at you with a flicker of guilt.

You sighed, noticing that you'd now have to choose your words carefully.

"Yeah," you nodded, sliding down the glass to take a seat on the floor, "Yeah, it happened to me."

She slowly sat down next to you, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Do you think...you could tell me about it?" She turned to you, sincerely.

You nodded, deciding now was as good as ever to get three months of angst off your chest.

"The day everything went to hell, I went into my brother's car shop, like I would any other day," you started, looking down at your drink, "Everything was normal 'til around noon, and my brother left for lunch. I had asked him to pick me up a Coke while I hung back to finish up a detail that was running long. But even when I finished he still wasn't back yet..."

You quickly gathered yourself, already feeling your voice about to crack.

And you were not about to start bawling in front of this twelve-year old.

You took a deep breath, "I was washin' my hands, when I started to hear some commotion comin' from outside. And like usual, I paid it no mind. Newark wasn't the greatest city to begin with."

She nodded for you to go on, fully invested.

"But it started to get louder and louder, and it wasn't the usual sounds of scuffles and punches. It was screaming. Bloody-murder type screaming. And loud, monster-like grunting," you continued, staring down at the ground as the sound echoed in your ears.

"I knew better than to go outside and check it out, so I went for the window, picking up an ax off the wall, just in case," your heart beat roughly in your chest, as if you were reliving it right that moment.

"When I looked outside, all I could see was chaos. Neighbors were eatin' neighbors, cars were crashin', and those that were still normal were running around in a huge panic, gettin' taken out left and right."

You shook your head at the next part, taking a swig of your drink.

"And me, bein' dumb and terrified, dropped my weapon, making a loud clang," you let out a painful chuckle, turning to the little girl, "And guess who found their way home?"

Her eyes went wide, and she clutched her knees tighter, already knowing the answer.

"Yup," you nodded, "My brother came running in through the back door, all glassy-eyed and covered in blood."

Little Rock let you take a moment before you started up again, not saying a word.

She felt that if she'd made anything over the peep, it would shatter the surprisingly strong hold you had on your emotions at the moment.

"He ran straight for me, growling and hissing like a fuckin' animal, and I picked up the ax, using the dull side to knock him in the stomach. And he fell over, hitting his head against the pavement. But he was still alive, slightly moving," you continued, taking another swig.

"Finally able to get a good look at him.......I knew he was gone. Chunks of his skin was missing, his shirt was stained red from whatever poor bastard he'd attacked on the way.....and the constant smile I had never seen him without.....was gone."

You stared out at the aisle in front of you, an empty expression on your face.

"I knew it wasn't him anymore.......and I didn't want him to hurt anyone else......so I did what needed to be done," you stated, "His head went rollin' and I booked it for my apartment, bashing whatever came within three feet of me."

You let out an awkward chuckle, "I was lucky I had a wannabe redneck for a dad. I scooped up all the guns I could carry and stole a truck, then got out the city as fast as I could."

Tally, Columbus, and Wichita all shared sorry looks, the three of them having listened to the story right from the beginning.

No wonder you freaked out so much before.

What you went through was fucked, even on Zombieland standards.

Little Rock looked down at her feet, ashamed, almost as if she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized, barely above a whisper.

You quickly shook yourself out of it, going back to your normal, Jersey self and flashing her a smile.

"Don't apologize. You were doin' what you had to in order to survive," you assured, standing up and ruffling her hair, "Besides, I didn't tell you the story to make you feel bad, I told you to give clarity. Now we're square."

She looked up at you with a small smile, and you smirked, taking a final swig of your Coke before tossing it somewhere.

Suddenly, you heard something shatter, and Tally howled excitedly.

"Yeah. Come on, break another one," he egged.

You and Little Rock turned to each other with a confused look, before walking over to see what was happening.

Wichita joined you two to watch Columbus push over another vase, an awkward smile on his face.

"Nice," Tally nodded.

Wichita pushed over a cup of drumsticks, and you and Little Rock picked up a snow globe, smashing it on the ground.

Delightful chaos ensued, and after ten minutes of non-stop destruction, the five of you had completely destroyed the store.

Standing at the entrance to admire your work, you suddenly caught a whiff of something.

It was flowery.

Quickly sniffing the air, you found it was coming from Tallahassee.

"Tex..."

"Yes, Princess."

"Why the hell do you smell like petunias?"

He snapped his head over to Columbus, glaring at him so hard that he'd probably burn holes if such a thing was possible.

"I think I'm at fault for that," the boy admitted awkwardly, slowly inching away from the man.

You snickered, resting your arm on Tal's shoulder.

"Keep messin' with him, Doofus, and he'll strike a fault with your head."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee #tallahassee x reader #zombieland #zombieland x reader

[dantakeyoman]

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐓𝐖𝐎

"What are you prospecting?" Columbus grimaced as Tal opened his trunk to reveal the multitude of weapons he had in stock, "Jesus Christ."

"I think you've just renewed my respect for you, Tex," you commended, resting an elbow on his shoulder as he beamed proudly at his metal treasures.

"You are dangerous people," Columbus shook his head, "You're gonna risk our lives for a Twinkie?"

"And a Coke," you added, grabbing the barbed wire baseball bat.

After a long car ride, the three of you came across a local stop and shop joint.

And where there was shop, there was snack.

A Hostess snack specifically, according to Tallahassee's logic.

"There is a box of Twinkies in that grocery store," Tal started, picking up some garden shears, "Not just any box of Twinkies. The last box of Twinkies anyone will enjoy in the whole universe."

He tucked the shears in his pants, making you shiver.

'One wrong move and he's toast.'

"Believe it or not, Twinkies have an expiration date. And someday, very soon, life's little Twinkie gauge is gonna go empty."

"Let's hurry up, then. Keep wastin' time an' all the sodas are gonna be flat," you smiled, standing ready at the front door.

"Time to nut up or shut up," Tally smirked, slinging his banjo over his shoulder as he walked in.

You rolled your eyes, trailing after him with Columbus, "Fuckin' hill-billy."

"I heard that," he sighed, glancing back at you as he stood at the entrance to an aisle.

"Good," you smirked.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the banjo off his back and starting to play.

And despite your constant criticism, you could feel the man's unorthodox, country charm growing on you by the day.

His blood lust and unsurprising, surprising fighting skills were things to be admired, sure.

But when it was just you and him, driving on the open road, sharing funny anecdotes about your time in Armageddon, it felt like he turned into a completely different person.

In a good way.

In a really good way.

It made part of your heart thaw, one that you hadn't let out the freezer since day one of the end of the world.

You were so lost in thought, you hadn't even realized that Tally was beating the shit out a zombie with his banjo.

You shook your head, trying to get yourself back to normal.

'Cool it. You cannot let yourself get fuckin' distracted. You didn't even notice what was goin' on outside.'

"Jersey! Don't swing! Don't swing!" Columbus exclaimed, running from another fat zombie and towards you.

Catching the memo, you nodded, winding up your bat as he slid past you.

"Swing!"

"Batta batta..." you swung with full force, knocking the head of the zombie clean off its shoulders with a smirk, "swing batta!"

The body fell to the ground, still twitching, so you plunged the knob into its chest, just to be sure.

"Good shit," Tally nodded, doing his best to not show how fucking impressed, and slightly turned on, he was.

He couldn't lie, that was fucking hot.

"Thanks," Columbus turned to you, looking down at it with disgust.

"You owe me," you smirked, dusting off your hands as you started off down the aisle, "Now, where's the fridge in this bitch."

A loud growl came from the end of aisle, and out stepped an incredibly fat zombie, which was at least a foot taller and wider than you.

"Whoa, Big Hoss," Tally whistled.

"You got this one, boss man?" You cocked a brow, getting ready to hand over your shotgun.

"You bet," he smirked pulling out the garden shears, "Watch and learn, sweetheart."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as he went running at the zombie, snapping the shears.

"C'mere, big fella. Just gonna take a little off the top."

Columbus watched in awe, you in boredom, as the man decapitated the zombie with ease.

'Been there, seen that.'

"Wow, these fellas really let themselves go," Tally quipped, looking at the string of dead bodies the three of you left.

"And they're so fat," Columbus sighed sorrily.

"Hey, Tex," you waved off, walking over to stand directly in front of Tallahassee, "You call me sweetheart again and I'll kick your teeth in."

He smirked, "Whatever you say, Princess."

That familiar vein popped out your temple, and Columbus decided now would be a good time to jump in before you had an aneurysm.

But you also felt a fluttering in your stomach, one of butterflies and all things warm and fuzzy.

It was horrible.

"I think we should probably keep going," he nervously chimed, stepping in between you two.

Just then, some random woman came walking over from the back room.

"Who the hell are you?" You cocked a brow.

"Come quick," she asked, voice sad and cracked.

The three of you turned to each other, before nodding in agreement and deciding to follow, you hanging back to secure an exit.

You quickly wedged a box between the emergency exit door and the wall, then beelined to the back, where Tally and Columbus had solemn faces.

Looking past them, you could see a little girl, who looked no older than twelve, sitting on the table, hugging the woman from before with a sad expression

The three of you convened, and Tally tipped his hat.

"They're sisters. The little one's been bitten," he started in a low voice.

The flashbacks started rolling in, making you rest a hand on your chest like a granny with a weak heart.

"Shit," you cursed under your breath.

"Act normal. Try not to freak her out," he clarified, already seeing your reaction.

"Yeah," Columbus nodded.

An image of your brother's bloody, gnashing face flashed in your mind, making it hard to catch your breath.

It was odd, as if there was no air left in the air.

It hurt your chest, and made you feel like you were reliving the moment right then and there.

What was it those shrinks used to call it? A panic attack?

"Hey, you alright?" Tally asked, confused at your state.

You looked...scared.

He had never seen that look on your face before.

Hell, you'd just taken out a zombie twice your height and weight single-handedly.

He didn't even know why he cared so much at the moment.

"I'm fine," you stated curtly, stepping forward to get back to the task at hand.

'Distract yourself.'

He caved, reluctantly, and got back to business.

"Jersey, Columbus," Tal introduced, turning to the girls, "Wichita, Little Rock."

Columbus awkwardly waved, and all you could muster was a two-finger salute.

"So, you did all of this over a Twinkie and some Coke?" Little Rock asked.

"Oh, no, no, no, they did. I'm just kind of like a Sancho Panza character," Columbus denied.

Wichita rolled her eyes, grabbing Tally and huddling the four of you, you doing your best to try and catch some air before getting pulled in.

'Why is it so goddamn hard for me to get my shit together right now?!'

"Look, I don't think she has long," Columbus started.

"Yeah, I know. I know, and she knows. We're just looking for a way out," she sighed, staring straight at his gun.

"No, no, no, no. She's just a little girl," he denied.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Little Rock snapped.

"Right, sorry," Columbus apologized, "Look, I know that you're really sick. But your sister wants me to-." "It's not her decision, okay? It's mine. I made her promise," Little Rock corrected, tearfully.

"We already said goodbye, but we didn't have a gun."

"We don't know that there's no cure-." "You're just gutless!" She snapped, turning to Tally, "Give him the gun."

Columbus sighed, somberly handing it over, and you stood off to the side, nervously biting down on your fingertips.

Why the fuck was this situation bothering you so much?

This stupid zombie virus made no damn sense.

(b/n) was fine when he went to lunch, so why did he come back with his skin hanging off the bone?

And why did he try to kill you? His baby sister? His little grease-monkey? His best friend?

'It makes no damn sense!'

"Wait, wait, wait," Wichita stopped Tally before he could shoot, "I'll do it."

The two nodded to each other, and he handed over the gun, Columbus already checking himself out and standing off in the corner, covering his ears.

She gave Little Rock a final kiss on the forehead before checking to see if the gun was loaded.

Taking aim, Little Rock hung her head, and Wichita hesitated.

Just as Tally was about to offer some help, she turned the gun on him.

"We'll take your weapons, car keys, your ammunition," she stated.

"And if you got it, sugarless gum," Little Rock added, jumping off the table good as new, taking the keys out Tally's pocket.

Your eye twitched.

The whole time. The whole goddamn time.

They were conning you.

They created this whole show to scam people out their shit, to pull at peoples emotions in order to get some fucking haul.

You quickly drew your glock, placing it at Little Rock's temple.

Wichita's eyes went wide, and she quickly turned her gun on you.

"One more fucking move and your sisters brains go all over the floor," you stated with absolute seriousness, your eyes cold, dead, and tear filled.

The girl's grip tightened, but she complied, staying completely still.

"You think this is a fuckin' joke? You think you can use people's fuckin' humanity to score a fuckin' car? Give Tally the gun back. Now," you ordered, a couple stray tears falling down your cheeks.

It was the first time you cried in the apocalypse

You didn't even cry during (b/n)'s death.

But the long delayed feelings were hitting you like a truck now.

Wichita quickly handed the gun over to Tallahassee, who was nearly as dumbfounded as her.

He had never seen you act so passionate about anything like this before.

You pulled the gun away from Little Rock, and pushed her towards her sister, training it on the both of them now.

"I'm giving you a minute to run. I don't wanna see either of you ever again."

The two nodded, and you put the safety on your gun, tucking it away.

And they quickly ran out the back way and towards the outside, leaving the three of you to stand in this thick atmosphere.

...

"What the fuck just happened?" Columbus asked, completely shocked.

"I just saved our asses is what," you stated, walking towards the exit, "Now let's blow this joint. I don't even want the Coke anymore and there's no Twinkies here."

"You're forgettin' one, tiny detail, Princess," Tally stated, crossing his arms.

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, seething and fluttering at the use of the nickname.

"The con-artists still have the car keys."

Your eyes shot wide.

"SHIT!" You exclaimed, booking towards the door and kicking it open, only to see that they were driving off with the car, the bags containing non-weapon items left on the ground.

"I fuckin' hate them," you steamed, slinging one of the stray duffels on your shoulder as the boys came out behind you.

"Nice goin', genius," Tally sighed, giving you a reassuring pat on the back.

"You're the one who gave her the gun," Columbus defended.

"Can't believe this," you huffed, "My dad's grenades are still in there."

"You had grenades in there?!" Columbus panicked.

"You didn't?"

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

"So, he's on one of these serious, Tour de France bikes. Y'know, the ones with, like, the toeholds, right? And he's pedaling, and zombie's head is, like, caught in the gear. With the hair in the chain just, like, going around," Columbus explained, stepping over a patch of shattered glass.

"Very cool," you nodded approvingly.

"But zombie kill of the week? No, sir," Tally waved off, "I saw this construction worker, I shit you not, he's on a steamroller, and a zombie goes down in front of him."

You scrunched your nose in funny disgust, knowing exactly where this was going

"You ever roll a tube of toothpaste up from the bottom?"

"Yeah, I always roll it up from the bottom," Columbus nodded.

"Well, the zombie's head is the cap," Tally smirked.

"Gnarly," you chuckled.

The three of you managed to make it on foot to this abandoned town, sharing delightful anecdotes of hilarious zombie kills.

You had already told your story of seeing a neighborhood guy throwing bricks from on top of a building and taking out an entire gaggle of zombies.

And a couple civilians, too, but hey.

Sometimes you gotta break a couple eggs to make an omelette.

"Are you one of those guys that tries to one-up everybody else's story?" Columbus asked, turning to Tal.

"No. I knew a guy way worse at that than me," he scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, "All right, let's find a car. My feet are startin' to hurt."

"That reminds me," Tal started, "I never had headaches like this till your assess came onboard. I mean, do what you want with a man, but do not fuck with his Cadillac."

"Hey, that's a nice minivan," Columbus chimed, turning to the car parked next to you.

"Oh, you know somethin'? That is nice," Tal agreed in a dangerously soft voice, approaching the car, "That's a beautiful van."

'Aw, shit.'

He picked up a stone and tossed it into the window, shattering it completely.

"Here we go," you sighed, sitting down on the curb to rest.

"Is he-?" "Just let 'im go. He needs this," you shook your head, assuring Columbus as the man picked up a crowbar, going to town on the poor vehicle.

He smashed for three minutes straight, going as far as climbing on top of it, smashing in the windshield.

"I want my Caddy back!" He angrily shouted, wailing on the roof, "Stupid little bitches!"

You figured this blowout would come sooner or later.

He was way too calm when the sisters stole the car.

Once he was done, he tossed the crowbar, panting as he climbed off the van.

"Feel better, buddy?" You asked, tauntingly as you stood up and patted his shoulder like a child.

"Fuck off," he scoffed, limping over to walk with Columbus, "Oh, I think I pulled somethin'."

"Old ass," you snickered.

"Keep tryin' me, missy. There's no law protectin' you no more," he threatened.

"All the more fun," you smirked, kicking up the crowbar and catching it, resting it on your shoulder.

He shot you a sharp glare, locking his jaw.

You were a real piece of work.

Even for a woman in the apocalypse, you were brash and vulgar and trigger-happy

Always ready for a fight.

Always ready to do whatever necessary.

You found humor in the everyday, which most people found repulsive and depressing.

It came so natural to you that he could probably talk to you about popping zombie heads pre-Z day and you'd still laugh.

You were a fuckin' oddball.

...

A gorgeous oddball.

"Think the three of us are smart enough to come up with a con like that?" He asked, quickly trying to distract from the very betraying thought.

You and Columbus stayed quiet, your silence speaking volumes as you tried to find an answer.

He shook his head in disappointment, "You hesitated."

"We don't need to come up with stuff like that. We're strong. Only people who can't fight for themselves do that shit," you shrugged.

The two nodded at you fair point, until Tally eyes landed on something that made him break out in a smirk.

"Either way," he smiled, grabbing your chin and turning your face to look at what he was looking at, "S'it better to be smart or lucky?"

Not too far away sat a bright yellow Hummer in perfect condition, parked nice and pretty in a driveway.

"I call shotgun!" You smirked, perking up and jogging over, Tally and Columbus not too far behind.

You slowed your jog to a walk so they could catch up, and approached the car, marveling at the paint job.

But Tallahassee, right behind you, noticed a pair of hands gripping onto the steering wheel.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he quickly stepped in front of you, warily approaching the driver's side.

You were surprised, and slightly taken aback by the chivalry, but decided to save it for later and draw your crowbar.

He quickly opened the door, taking a big step back, only to see that it was just a pair of severed hands.

Tally let out a chuckle, and you shook your head in disgust, "S'fuckin' gross."

He pulled a hand off with a repulsive crack, moving it around to hold up the middle finger at Columbus.

"That's nice," Columbus sighed.

"Smell the finger?"

You rolled your eyes, opening up the backseat and smiling at the duffel bag that laid nice and open.

"Tex, Doofus, take a look," you smirked, unzipping it.

Tally quickly peered over your shoulder, smiling like a kid in a candy store at the sight of various automatic weapons.

"Thank God for rednecks!" He beamed, looking up at the sky.

"I call dibs on the uzi-HEY!" You exclaimed as he yolked it up from under you, moving over to shoot up at nothing.

You huffed, settling with the AK and taking your spot in the front seat, Columbus sitting in the back.

The two of you waited patiently as Tallahassee continued his celebration in true redneck fashion, shooting things and painting a truck.

"Staying with this dickhead's gonna get me killed," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Quick question," Columbus chimed, "How did my name go from Columbus to Doofus?"

"Your name's too long. And Doofus fits you, anyway," you answered, bluntly.

"Fair enough," he mumbled.

"Hoo!" Tally smiled, opening up the door and plopping himself in the front seat, "That felt good."

He turned on the car and peeled off out the neighborhood, a devious glint in his eye.

"Y'know, they say, he who seeks revenge should dig two graves," Columbus chimed from the backseat, already knowing what the man was thinking.

"Right. Two graves. One for the big chick and one for the little chick," Tally smirked.

"You are scary happy," you chuckled, turning to him

He turned to you with a laugh, and a knowing look.

Oh, he was gonna tear those girl to shreds.

"C'mon, why don't we just forget about them and head home?" Columbus sighed.

"Oh, you wanna talk about home?" Tally cocked a brow, "For me, home was a puppy named Buck. Cutest dog ever."

He took a deep sigh, the happy memories nearly visible in his eyes.

"All those fuckin' zombies. I lost 'im. And there ain't no getting him back, so I'm looking for a new home. Tomorrow, I may be skinny-dippin' in the Yellowstone River, or swingin' from the chandelier in the Playboy Mansion. But today, a Vortec six-fuckin' liter V8, a box full of hollow points, and, Lord willin', a GD Twinkie."

He turned to you with a rare, genuine smile.

"Gotta enjoy the little things."

You laughed, looking down at your lap with your own smile.

Tally's take on life was...enlightening.

He lived every day like it was his last, and enjoyed every moment like his first.

It was a good philosophy to have, especially in a world where life could easily become filled with an all-encompassing sense of dread.

Keeping things fresh and exciting was good distraction from the man-eating hordes of monsters scattered across the country.

And thinking about how philosophical his non-philosophy was, turned out a great distraction from thinking about how he sexy he probably looked skinny-dipping.

'Shit.'

You blushed, discreetly shifting in your seat, trying desperately to shove the thoughts out your head.

'The universe needs to give me somethin' to do quick before I fuckin' burst.'

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee #zombieland #zombieland x reader

[dantakeyoman]

idk if the @ worked but @novamariestark, the first chapter of my Tallahassee fic is dedicated to u babe 🫶🏽

#I’m gonna help this site with its serious lack of Tally content #cause this is ridiculous

[dantakeyoman]

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 | 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞

♡ 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡ * 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈, 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒚, 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆, 𝒛𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒆-𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏. 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒔. *

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬), 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐬, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.

♡ * 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒚: 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 *

𝐎𝐍𝐄

Amazing how quick things can go from bad to unfathomably fucking bad.

Waking up on that fateful day, you thought you'd go through your normal routine.

Eat your honey-bun breakfast, show up late to your brother's car shop, starting working, and then return to your shitty apartment for a horrible TV dinner and a movie.

Not once did you plan for him to try to bite your face off, and not once did you plan on chopping off your only brother's head because of it.

It didn't take long after that for the entire world to go to shit, which made you grateful that your father had the paranoia of a redneck.

After taking a quick stop home and packing a duffel full of goodies, you headed off in a stolen pickup truck as far as you could from Newark.

Which was now a zombie war-zone.

A couple months and various zombie scares later, and here you were, walking the interstate in the middle of Texas, your recent mode of transportation having broken down a couple miles back.

"Might as well take inventory," you grumbled to yourself, taking in a deep sigh as you plopped down on a barricade.

You found it comforting to talk every once in a while, even if it was to yourself.

Life in the apocalypse was lonely.

If you didn't, you'd probably forget how to talk all together.

Unzipping the duffel, you rummaged around, counting what you had.

2 grenades, a shotgun, a rifle, and a couple more magazines.

Not too shabby.

You suddenly heard a noise. A rumbling one.

It was a car engine.

Snapping your head over to its source, you could see a black Cadillac Escalade with a snow-plow attachment heading straight for you.

Fast.

Pro, driving means no zombie.

Con, sometimes humans are worse than the zombies.

Pro, they got a working car.

Con, might also have a working gun.

...

"I got guns, too," you smirked, pulling out your glock from your pants and staying seated, shifting so whoever couldn't see the weapon.

To your surprise, he pulled up right next to you, stepping out the car.

You held up your gun, pointing it between his eyes, and he cocked his lever action shotgun, pointing it at your chest.

Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his outfit.

He had on brown cowboy boots tucked under the hem of his blue jeans, a black v-neck, a leather jacket, tacky shades, and to top it all off, a brown, real deal Brazil hat.

He used his other hand to toss his shades, allowing you to see his blue eyes as the two of you stared each other down.

He was actually kind of handsome...in a rugged, apocalypse sort of way.

You raised a brow, removing the safety off your glock to show you were serious.

And he did the same thing, cocking his gun with a smug expression.

Still trying to hold out, you kept your position, but he raised a brow, making sure you really wanted to go there.

You caved.

With a sigh, you returned the safety, using your other hand to hold up a thumb.

He lowered his weapon, nodding toward his truck as he walked off to do something.

You threw your bag over your shoulder, trudging towards the passenger and opening the door.

Using your gun, you did a quick check of the car, making sure there wasn't anyone or anything present that could harm you.

"What're you lookin' for?" The man curtly asked with a country twang as he plopped down in the driver's.

It seems like he returned from kicking over a motorcycle.

"Danger," you answered, sitting down and shutting the door, turning to him with cold eyes.

"Nothin' back there but my duffel bag," he half-assured, something about the look in his eye letting you know he was telling the truth.

"Good," you nodded, turning to face the road.

He stared at you a moment, almost as if he was studying you, and what to do next.

"You say more than one word at a time?" He cocked a brow.

You turned to him seriously, "...Yes."

He sighed, accepting that that was probably the best he was gonna get, and turned the key to the ignition.

You tried to suppress the feelings of guilt, deciding to turn and look out the window.

But it kept clawing at you.

'This guy's doin' you a solid. Show at least a little gratitude, pig.'

"Thank you," you caved, keeping your eyes trained on the window.

Slightly taken aback, he turned to you, before snapping himself out of it.

"Don't mention it," he nodded, pulling off.

And as you started to find a steady speed, your eyes managed to catch a glance at the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat in the cup-holder.

God, you hadn't had a good drink since you raided that liquor store a couple weeks back.

"You mind?" You asked, cutting your eyes at the bottle as if you were a lion and it was a juicy gazelle.

He slightly smiled, "Knock yourself out."

You grabbed the bottle by its neck, taking a hard swig and relishing in the delicious burn with a sigh.

"You got a name?" You asked again, not letting the liquid courage go to waste.

"Stop," he quickly shut down, keeping his eyes on the road, "No names. Keeps us from gettin' too familiar."

Realizing he left his humongous knife on the armrest, he picked it up, tossing it in the back.

"Whatever you say, Crocodile Dundee," you shrugged, taking another swig.

He gave you a quick look, noting the comment before moving on.

You noticed this with a small smirk, but covered it by passing off the bottle.

"Where you headed?" He asked, taking it from you and knocking back his own swig.

"Jersey," you answered, scratching your head with the tip of your gun, "You?"

"Tallahassee," he replied.

A wonderfully terrible idea popped into your head.

"Y'know, Jersey and Tallahassee are both east..." you tried to lead.

"So?" He asked, turning to you.

You sighed, "So, Tallahassee, you wanna stick together? 'Til we reach a crossroads."

"Here's the deal, Jersey," he started, "I'm not easy to get along with...and I'm sensin' you're a bit of a bitch."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the last part, and you shot him a quick glare that told him to watch it.

"But...I'm willin' to take this relationship as far as Texarkana."

You shrugged, resting your cheek in your palm as you watched the window again, "Fine by me."

He scoffed with a smile, "You're a little ray of sunshine, aincha?"

"Like you're all peaches an' cream, Tex," you rolled your eyes, "Just drive."

"I can tell already you're gonna get on my nerves."

"Feeling's mutual."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

After driving an hour or so, picking up some scrawny kid on his way to Ohio, the three of you got to know each other slightly better.

Which made you realize just how fucked you were traveling with these two idiots, and how stupid you looked right now.

"We look fucking stupid right now," you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"What are we doing here?" Columbus, the scrawny kid, asked, turning to Tallahassee.

"Well, take a look," Tal scoffed, "It's a goddamn Hostess truck."

And he was right.

The three of you had pulled over on the side of the road, where a large Hostess truck had fallen into a ditch.

"So what?" Columbus raised a brow.

"I could use a Twinkie," Tal proudly nodded, stepping forward to go down the hill.

You rolled your eyes, but followed, holding your gun at the ready.

Until you realized you were missing someone.

"You comin'?" You asked, turning to Scrawny.

"Yes. Yeah. Just one second," he puttered, suddenly starting to do squats and lunges.

You and Tal turned to each other, sharing the same disbelieving look before turning back to the idiot.

"You fuckin' with me?" Tal asked.

"No, I'm not," Columbus grunted, doing some sort of marching, "You should actually limber up as well. Especially if we're going down that hill. It is very important."

"I don't believe it. You ever see a lion limber up before it takes down a gazelle?" Tal scoffed.

Columbus paused, "...Fair enough."

You rolled your eyes, starting your descent and reaching the truck already.

"With the time you ladies take, I'll be dead before we get back on the road. Could we hurry this up?" You sighed.

The two men quickly joined you, and once Columbus was at the ready, you opened the door.

Only for hundreds of packages of Sno Balls to come pouring out.

But not a single Twinkie in sight.

"Sno Balls? Sno Balls?!" Tal began to rage, frantically sifting through the pile, "Where's the fuckin' Twinkies?!"

"I like Sno Balls," Columbus smiled with a full mouth, already chowing down.

"I hate coconut," Tal scoffed.

You gasped, but he was quick to correct himself.

"Not the taste, the consistency."

"Nearly had me," you mumbled, taking a bite of your own Sno Ball.

'I don't think I could travel with someone who doesn't like coconut.'

"Oh, this Twinkie thing, it ain't over yet," he assured, turning around and storming back up the hill.

You sighed, shifting your gun over your shoulder by it's strap, following him.

"Hey, this may be bad time," Columbus started, trailing close behind, "but I gotta take the Browns to the Superbowl."

"Again?" You cocked a brow, turning to him, "Might as well take the shitter with us."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

"I've heard there's a place that's untouched by all this crap," Columbus started, laying down in the backseat.

"Back east, yeah?" You chimed, looking up into the rear-view.

"Yeah. You heard the same thing?" He perked up.

"No. I came from the east. Shit over there's just as terrible as here," you scoffed.

"Out west, we hear it's back east. Back east, they hear it's out west. It's all just nonsense," Tal shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, "You know, you're like a penguin on the North Pole who hears the South Pole is really nice this time of year."

"There are no penguins on the North Pole," Columbus corrected.

Tal turned, "You wanna feel how hard I can punch?"

You snickered, but hid it by turning to the window, deciding to zone out the conversation.

Until you missed a key shift.

"Wait, the last time I laid some pipe?" A sentence stuck out.

You were listening now.

"Last time you went twenty toes, put Percy in the playpen?" Tal tried to clarify.

"Who's Percy?" Columbus asked.

"Wallpapered the closet? Passed the gravy? Went heels to Jesus?"

"He can't understand you, hill-billy," you rolled your eyes.

"Oh, made love," the boy suddenly realized.

You and Tal winced at his...oddly intimate wording, "Well, just sex."

"It was three weeks ago. In the back of an abandoned FedEx truck," he caved.

"Shut up," Tal gasped in disbelief.

"I, uh, I was headed east. She was headed west. And we took shelter in the back of the truck. It was full of undelivered packages."

"What was her name?" You cocked a brow, skeptical.

"Uh...Beverly. Beverly Hills," he quickly scrambled.

"You dog," Tal nodded, proudly.

"Yeah, right," you shook your head.

"Why don't you tell us the last time you got fucked, Sunshine?" Tal asked, purposefully being blunt to embarrass you.

You glowed red, but quickly tried to play it off.

"I-." "Aye, aye, aye," he suddenly interrupted you, his attention turned to the she-zombie devouring the poor bastard in the middle of the road.

'Oh thankGod.'

It would've been embarrassing to admit you hadn't had sex since before the outbreak, especially after how much you were ragging on Columbus.

"Oh my God," Columbus grimaced, "You know, it makes you sad, it makes you...it makes you think if you can go back to the way things were right now...y'know you'd be out in the backyard, y'know, trying to catch fireflies. And instead...this."

"It makes you-." "Hungry," Tal admitted.

"Read my mind," you agreed, wishing you'd packed more Sno Balls.

"I'm worried about you two," Columbus sighed.

"Look, whatever you have waiting for you in Columbus, I promise you it ain't prettier than our friend here enjoying her Manwich," Tal explained, stepping on the gas.

Just as he drove past her, he kicked out his door, hitting her square in the head, knocking her over with a laugh.

"You're fucked," you chuckled, watching her roll like a tumbleweed in the rear-view.

"Hey, these fuckers destroyed the world. I'm allowed to have a lil' fun with 'em."

𝒛 𝒐 𝒎 𝒃 𝒊 𝒆 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒅

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee #zombieland #zombieland x reader #@novamariestark

[dantakeyoman]

yay or nay? what do we think?

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #wizarding world #ronald weasley #ron x reader #ronald weasley x reader #Ronald x reader #weasley x reader