#zombieland double tap 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

[novamariestark]

Cowboy on a Segway

[A/N] this was written on my phone. There may be spelling mistakes, either due to my fat thumbs or autocorrect.

Summary: you and Madison have been alone since the start. You feel completely responsible for her safety. One day you two meet Columbus and Tallahassee. When they invite you back to their camp, you have a little drink with Tallahassee

Warnings: 🔞, piv (unprotected sex), age gap, Venice mentioned as your name but you can change it, oral, poorly written smut

Word count: 3641

Fandom: Zombieland 2: Double Tap

Pairing: Tallahassee x reader

For the past several years, the abandoned mall had been your home. You had managed to scavenge and collect enough supplies from the various small businesses tucked away within its walls to keep yourself fed and tended to during the winter months. However, your resources were now running dry, and you had come to the realization that it was time to venture outside of the mall and find some more provisions elsewhere. Despite the availability of other housing options, you had chosen to make the mall your home, with the only problem being your persistent little sister who had taken up residence in the freezer. Your living quarters were situated on a catwalk hanging down the ceiling of the mall, which provided you with an excellent view of all the shops and stores below, including the one that your sister wouldn’t leave.

You sighed as you encountered yet another zombie. This was typical for any journey outside - always a few of them that either had failed to make it to wherever they were going, or were too comfortable where they were. You had become used to the sudden adrenaline rush of preparing to face another one of the undead - a reflex that you had grown accustomed to over the years.

You raised your trusty axe, ready to defend yourself against the rotting corpse lurching towards you. In one swift motion, you brought the axe down on its head, cleaving it in two. The putrid flesh and bone crumbled under the force of your blow, leaving a mess behind. You wiped the axe clean on your pants and continued on your way, the cold air filling your lungs as you breathed.

But what if something happened to you? What would happen to your sister without you around? The thought crossed your mind, as it often did, as it was a constant and understandable fear. You felt a bit protective of your sister, and you wanted to make sure she was safe no matter what happened.

When you got back to the freezer, you found it empty. You realized you had been gone longer than expected and your heart sank with worry – had something happened to her while you were away? You scanned the horizon for any sign of movement. You quickly dropped the supplies through the door and set off to look for her.

‘What part of stay here did she not understand?’ you asked yourself aloud. Even before the world was overrun by drooling, undead freaks, you were looking after Madison. In some ways, she was like a toddler, you couldn’t take your eyes off her for a second.

A scream and a gunshot caught your attention, sending your heart into an indescribable panic. You knew who had screamed and terror beyond compare had you sprinting towards the source. Your sister's safety was your sole priority and with that in mind, you cocked your own gun, ready to shoot whoever was attacking her.

The distance between you and the source closed with each step you took, until you could hear your sister's voice coming from a candle shop. You stopped behind a board when you saw a – cowboy? On a segway? ‘How tired are you?’

“Don’t mind me,” he said, putting his gun away.

You stopped outside the doorway and peered into the shop. You make your presence known to the cowboy and stand beside him to find your sister hugging a curly haired boy. A stranger. Typical.

“Maddy!”

She released her hold and turned to you, “Hey Venny, look. Humans!”

“Yes,” you said, drawing out the word longer with a sarcastic nod of your head, “That’s why they’re talking,”

“Is this your dad?” Madison asked, turning towards the curly haired kid she had just been glued to. Gesturing to the man with the Segway and cowboy hat. God you loved cowboy hats.

“For shit’s sake, slightly older, better-looking friend,” he corrected. You loved older guys too but being stuck in a mall after the world ended, didn’t give you much of a social life. In fact, the only person you’ve had contact with was your sister, and sometimes you could feel yourself losing IQ points.

'My name's Venice,' you said, introducing yourself as you held your hand out eagerly for the man to take, desperate for any kind of physical contact. He placed his big hand in yours and introduced himself.

“Tallahassee.” He replied, he nodded his hat towards curly, “Not his dad,”

“Didn't think so,” you smirked, almost unable to take your eyes away from him.

He raised his brow and turned to you, his lips forming a smirk to match yours, “Oh yeah? How?” He challenged.

You looked him up and down, “Well, you’re handsome,” you shrugged then you looked over to curly, “And he’s… well I don’t want to be rude,”

“He’s a little spit-fuck, I know, Darlin’” the nickname caused shivers to dance along your spine. He looked around the shop, “You live here?” he asked you, but your sister answered for you.

“No, Paul Blart. I live in the freezer in Pinkberry, mm-hm,” she replied with a giggle, “It keeps the zombies out. Though it is awfully chilly,”

“Ever consider... turning it off?” Tallahassee asked, even though he was sure he knew the answer.

“Couldn’t find the switch, like anywhere. I was hoping the electricity would run out.”

Curly then added something about how the dams 'keep giving us power' and Tallahassee had quipped, 'Apparently not brain power.' You couldn't help yourself, and snorted in agreement, quickly trying to hide your laughter behind your hands, lest your sister discover that you were making fun of her.

As she spins to face you, her smile fades in an instant. “l feel like you’re being super judgey. Like, I’m getting a real anti-me vibe off you.” she says, pointing at Tallahassee

“Are you?” Tallahassee retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he mimicked the stance of a teenage girl. His voice had even adopted a slightly higher pitch.

“Oh, my God. There it was again. That’s hurtful. I’m like really good at surviving,” Madison whined.

“What are you talking about? You barely leave the freezer. That’s hiding not surviving,” you told her.

 “What about food?” Curly asked, standing beside Madison, “How’d she get food?”

“How do you think?” You asked, pointing to yourself, “Door to door service,”

“I carry a can of mace with me everywhere I go,” she says, “And I can run really, really, really, really, fast. I used to do a lot of hot yoga and Soulcycle and…”

“Cardio!” Curly blurts out, stopping her annoyingly long ramble, “Sorry, I do a lot of Cardio too. It’s actually my number one rule, which is dorky,” he said, to which you nodded, with a quiet ‘yes’ falling from your lips, which apparently the hot cowboy heard, if the throaty chuckle was anything to go by, “But I’ve got a list of rules for surviving Zombieland,”

“Really? So do I!” she yelled in her annoying peppy voice

“You have rules?!” he asked, getting excited.

“Well actually, it’s mostly just ‘Stay in the Freezer.’” She said, twirling a piece of her bleached blonde hair.

“Yeah, and you can’t even follow that rule,” you grumbled.

“Oh and ‘Don’t Eat Nuts.’ ‘Cause I’m allergic. To nuts,” she added.

Curly smiles at Madison as if she charmed him, “We’ve, uh, set up camp just down the road,”

Tallahassee tries to catch Columbus’s eye, waving his arms around, mouthing ‘no’. he wouldn’t mind you coming to their camp. But your sister? No, he’d rather slam his balls repeatedly in a car door.

Curly ignored Tallahassee and continued, “At the White House, care to join?”

“The White House?! I’ve always wanted to visit the seat of government!” Tallahassee shoots Columbus a look.

Tallahassee turns on the segway and you turned towards Pinkberry where you left your supplies, “Aren’t you comin?”

“Aw dang, you noticed me trying to dump her on you,” you said in mock defeat, earning another chuckle, “I am, just getting our things,”

“I could come with you, watch your back,”

“Is it only my back you want to watch?” you asked, catching him off guard, you shrugged, muttering “Shame,” before walking off.

You walked through the hall of empty shops. The only sounds were your footsteps and the whirring of the segway.

“You know, your boy isn’t going to have any backup if he’s attacked,” you said to him as you opened the freezer door, sticking your hand in to grab the supplies, “Just one more stop,” you said before grabbing a rope that dangled from the ceiling and climbing up to your “room.”

“You lived up there?”

“Yup, so I could keep an eye on her,” you said, pointing to the yogurt shop, “Found a cool spot years ago but she wouldn’t leave. Figured if I left it turned on, she’d change her mind. She didn’t,” you explained.

“Wait, you knew you could turn it off?” he asked, you smirked and nodded.

“Why do you think she never found the switch?” You asked, pointing to a poster on the wall.

“You hid the switch?”

“Like I said, I was trying to get her out,” you shrugged. Tallahassee laughed. Although he did wonder why you didn’t just leave her and go off on your own. He guessed it was the same reason he kept Columbus around, not that he’d tell anybody, “That’s everything,” you said before climbing down the rope and jumping to the floor, “Let’s go,”

***

Soon you were at the White House. That was now, white and green. You had tuned out the list of rules that Curly was rambling on about and your sister walked beside him as if she were a golden retriever and he had a treat in his hand.

“And rule fifty-three - ‘Wet-naps.’” He said pulling some out of his back pocket. You rolled your eyes and looked to Tallahassee.

“Does he ever stop?” you asked, he shook his head as he stared at the back of his head, a murderous gaze in his eyes.

“I can’t believe you keep all this stuff in your head,”

“Thank you,”

“It’s amazing,” she said, she stopped and turned to Tallahassee causing you both to come to a stop, “You know, you’re really lucky you found someone so smart to take care of you. Most people your age get left all by themselves, and that can be so hard,”

Tallahassee closes his eyes, the vein by his temple pulsing, he punches him in the chest, “I am so lucky.” He dragged him away, “Can we have a little summit in the Oval Office?”

“You guys. I can’t believe we’re in the White House. This is soy random,”

“Will you shut up? Please?” you looked around the space and spotted a statue, “Look, go introduce yourself,”

“You know why she’s still alive, right? Zombies eat brains. She don’t got one,”

“It’s true, she’s having a conversation with one of the statues right now,” you said at the door,

“In fact, the statue is smarter than her,”

“See,” Tallahassee gestures to you, “I’m not the only one,”

“If she’s so bad, why have you put up with her for so long?” Curly asked you.

“I could ask him the same question about you,” you said nodding to Tallahassee. Curly opened his mouth to say something but you didn’t want to hear his voice anymore, so you continued,

“Maddy’s my little sister. Like it or not, I’m stuck with her,”

“Oh,” Curly said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s just she’s um you know, like really, y-you know and you’re like y-you know, like him,”

“You know I could kill you, right? Without even moving from this spot?”

Before he could respond, your sister walked in, “Could you maybe give you a tour?” she asked, she looked around the room, “Woah, this is the Oval Office. Wait, why do they call it that?”

“For the love of God, take her on a tour,” you spat out, you needed a break from her. You were starting to miss your little paradise that hovered above ground, that gave you much needed peace. A place to escape before your sister’s squeaky peppy voice forced you to put a bullet in your head.

The two rushed out the door and a hand with a glass appeared in front of your face, you took the glass and downed the alcohol in one, “Thanks, needed that,”

“I can tell,” he said pouring you some more, “It seems yours annoys you more than mine does,”

“7 years in that shithole with only Maddy, I mean I love her, she’s my sister, but God I’d have a better conversation with a poodle,” you said, downing another half glass of whiskey, “I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear this,” you popped the glass down and headed for the door, “I’m going to find us some rooms, far away from you guys, give you some space,”

“You don’t have to, relax, have another drink,”

And you did. Or 5.

***

You and Tallahassee were swapping stories about your 10 years of Zombieland. You were sat on a chair, and he was opposite, sprawled out on the couch, you had to stop yourself from staring as his shirt lifted up higher every time he moved, displaying his abs and v-line.

Soon you heard noises coming from above, “Oh my God,” you groaned.

“I believe that’s what she’s supposed to say,” Tallahassee pointed out.

You rolled your eyes and downed the last of your drink. You don’t know what it was that caused you to be so bold and confident, probably the whiskey, but you stood from you seat and straddled Tallahassee’s hips. You lean in close, your warm breath against his ear “When was the last time someone took care of you?” you purred.

His eyes meet yours, a hint of surprise swimming in them. He smirks, his rough hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you in closer. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he replies, his voice husky.

“I don’t?” you asked innocently. He growled and without hesitation, he swiftly pins you down, caging you beneath his powerful body, his eyes burning with raw intensity.

Tallahassee pauses for a moment, his intense gaze locked with yours, “You say the word and we’ll stop,”

“What word? I wanna avoid it,” you smirked up at him a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Tallahassee chuckled darkly before bending his head, his lips finding your neck. His hands traveled up your back, massaging and kneading the muscles there, making you arch into him further. You moaned, feeling his hot breath on your skin as he suckled a trail up your neck to your earlobe. His teeth gently nipped at it, sending a shiver down your spine.

Breathless, you look deep into his eyes, her voice dripping with desire as you plead, "Fuck me," Tallahassee groans, One hand pins yours above your head, the other travels under your shirt. His calloused fingers trace your silky-smooth skin, his touch leaving a burning trail. He undoes the button of your jeans, yanking them halfway down your thighs. Without wasting a second, he pushes your dampened panties to the side, easing a thick finger between your dripping folds. He kisses your neck and along your jawline as he thrusts two fingers expertly inside of you.

Your back arches off the couch, a strangled moan escaping your lips. Tallahassee's thumb teases your clit, circling and pressing until you're on the brink of ecstasy. He leans forward, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss as he begins to thrust his fingers deeper inside of you. You can feel his erection pressing against your hip, hot and hard, and you ache for him to be inside of you.

He started to increase the intensity as he felt your body twitch, responding to each of his movements, “Please,” you whimper, wanting more. Practically begging for it.

Your pleas didn’t go unanswered. He placed one more kiss on your lips before sliding down your body, your eyes following his every move. He pulled your jeans down the remainder of your legs and threw them across the room. As your eyes were looking to see where they landed, you feel something warm and wet seep through you folds. Snapping your head back to him, you see his face buried between your legs. His tongue swirling around your lips as if he’s trying to mop up every last drop of your slick. You can’t help but let out a moan as he bites, licks and sucks at your little bundle of nerves. Your hips buck involuntarily causing him to rest his free hand on your stomach to keep you still.

His hand returns, sliding up your abdomen, cupping your breast and squeezing gently. He licks you one more time, tasting the sweetness that coats his tongue, before looking up at you, his eyes dark with lust.

He stands up and starts stripping himself of his clothes. You clench your legs together to get friction as his cock springs free.

"Like what you see?" he asked, his voice husky and rough. You nod, unable to speak, as your gaze drifts down to the thick length of him. You quickly climb off the couch and onto your knees in front of him.

He groans, his hips jerking forward as you take him in your hands. Your fingers wrap around his shaft, stroking up and down the length of him, marveling at the heat and the size. "You're so fucking beautiful," he breathes, his eyes watching you intently.

You look up at him as you continue to stroke him, feeling his skin slide over your palm. His gaze meets yours, and for a moment, you feel like you can see straight into his soul. You lean forward, taking his cock into your mouth, feeling the velvety smoothness against your tongue. You close your lips around him, taking him as deep as you can, and begin to bob your head up and down.

His hands run through your hair, cupping your head as he watches you work him. You can feel the way he trembles, the way his hips jerk forward as you suck him deeper, the way his breath hitches in his throat. You know he's close, and you want nothing more than to feel him come in your mouth.

Pulling back, you look up at him, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. His eyes are half-closed, his head tilted back, his expression one of pure bliss. You reach out, tracing a finger along his cheekbone, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertip. "I want to feel you inside me," you whisper, and he groans, his hips jerking forward again.

He helps you to your feet, his hands on your waist, and guides you back to the couch. You climb onto the cushions, legs spread wide, and watch as he positions himself between your thighs. He brushes a stray hair out of your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone, before leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His cock presses against your folds, and with one smooth motion, he pushes inside of you.

You gasp, feeling the stretch of his length as he fills you. He groans, his hips stuttering as he begins to thrust, the rhythm echoing in your core. His hands move to your hips, holding you steady as he takes you roughly, your body meeting his thrust for thrust. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your nails digging into the soft cushion beneath you.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense, his expression a mixture of lust and possession. His lips find your neck, sucking and nipping at your skin, leaving a sting that feels almost as good as the thrust of his hips. "You're so fucking tight," he growls, his words vibrating against your skin.

You arch your back, meeting his thrusts with equal force. Your nails scrape down his back, leaving a trail of red lines on his skin. You can feel the tension building inside you, the familiar ache spreading through your core. "I'm close," you gasp, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.

He groans, his hips moving faster, his cock thrusting deeper. "Cum for me," he urges, his lips finding yours in a bruising kiss. You shudder, your orgasm washing over you in a wave of heat and pleasure. Your inner walls tighten around him, milking his cock as you cry out his name.

His thrusts grow jerky and rough, and you feel the warmth of his release deep inside you. He groans, his body shuddering as he empties himself, his hips still moving even as he collapses onto you, pinning you beneath his weight. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his chest heaving against yours.

For a moment, you're lost in the afterglow of your orgasm, feeling the weight of his body pressed against yours, the heat of his skin seared into your memory. You luxuriate in the intimacy of the moment, reveling in the way he moves against you, the way he feels inside you.

He rolls off you, collapsing to the side, still breathing heavily. You watch him, tracing a lazy finger along the lines of his chest, admiring the play of muscles in his arms and shoulders, "I don't remember it feeling that good,"

"What?"

You laugh, turning your head to look at him. "You know what I mean."

"I think you mean, round 2," he smirked.

"Oh really?" you asked, a smirk of your own painting your lips, "You think you're up for it, old man?"

He swiftly pins you down again, "I'll show you who's an old man, darlin'"

[A/N] I feel like it didn't turn out as good as i imagined.

#female reader #reader insert #tallahassee x reader #zombieland x reader #zombieland fanfiction #zombieland double tap

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 10 (Tallahassee/f!Reader)

pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7 (explicit) pt 8, pt 9

When you stepped out into the sunlight Tallahassee took your wrist in a firm grip, as if worried you’d slip away. Columbus watched the two of you walk past him, saw you heading for the barn and slunk back into the house without a comment. You hoped he had the sense to keep Little Rock distracted long enough for the two of you to get through... whatever this was.

Tallahassee unlocked a shiny new padlock on the barn door and shoved the door aside wide enough for you to squeeze through. “I checked the barn yesterday. This is the only way in or out...”

Oh yeah. Zombies. For a moment there, you’d forgotten all about them... how typical that the threat of an emotional mess could seem so much more urgent than the threat of actual, literal death. 

“I trust your judgement,” you replied, laughing nervously at the fact that you really did almost trust him, and slipped in after him. 

It took some time for your eyes to adjust to the gloom in there. While you looked around to get the lay of the land, Tallahassee walked over to a dilapidated truck half hidden beneath tarpaulin and kicked the tires without much enthusiasm. Then he turned to you with a look so serious your heart sank. 

“I just... had to get you alone,” he said. If he’d reached for you as he said it, it would’ve been a lot more comforting, but instead he leaned back against the truck, lifted his hat a little to scratch at his head and seemed to have done and said all he meant to for the moment. 

You took a step closer. “You’ve got me,” you replied, almost too quietly to be heard.

Tallahassee smiled without humour and gave you a look that seemed to ask, “do I?”

“Listen,” you added quickly and forced yourself to keep moving, as if standing right in front of him and right within his reach neither frightened nor excited you.

 You gently touched his arm and surprised yourself by keeping your touch and your voice steady. He felt so warm...

Press on. You had to press on and make everything feel as safe and as normal as possible, as quickly as you could. This tension and uncertainty was unbearable.“I know last night was... sudden... and I don’t know how you feel about it, but...”

His eyes searched yours so intensely you almost lost your nerve. His jaw was clenched and he breathed deeply, steadily, as if willing himself to stay calm. It seemed almost like he was about to speak, but he decided against it and waited for you to say your piece.

“It doesn’t have to get weird.” You let your gaze drop, then followed his example with a sigh and leaned against the truck. You needed the support, especially since he didn’t seem in a hurry to reassure you. “We’re all stuck together, something like this was kind of inevitable one way or another, right? It’s human nature.”

“Right. Human nature.” He sighed. He sounded... frustrated? Tired? Relieved? Even though you didn’t dare look at him right now, you knew he wasn’t looking in your direction either. “Still, I reckon we should... talk this out or whatever, since we are stuck together. Not like you can quietly slip away and pretend you’ve lost my number.” 

“No, I guess not...” 

“So. What now?”

You swallowed and tasted metal. You weren’t sure what you’d imagined, but it wasn’t this. He seemed so calm, so withdrawn, as if you’d met up to decide how to contain a problem, not start something together, even something casual... “What do you want to happen?”

“I... I don’t know. I guess the smartest thing would be to pretend like nothing’s changed, but...” 

“...What?” You turned to look up at him. The sunlight found its way into the shed through the gaps between the planks, and a ray fell across his face so you could clearly see the shifting tension beneath his skin. He was right here with you, a sort of handsome, definitely attractive man; beneath all his bullshit you knew he was kind enough when he needed to be. He’d proven over and over that he was on your side. Did it have to be so much more complicated than that? 

When he turned to look at you again you felt as helpless under his gaze as you always did. Could he still not tell the effect he had on you?

“Well...” he finished, voice gruff. “I don’t regret it. That’s all.”

“Neither do I.”

You got a smile for that, if a small one. “Could’ve fooled me, the way you took off...”

“Oh.. I was just trying to avoid a scene.” You edged a little closer, and when he didn’t move away you leaned your head against his shoulder.

With a deep breath in, he put his arm around you. You knew you hadn’t actually established anything, but the closer he pulled you to him the less it seemed to matter. It’d always been a struggle to think clearly when he was near... Now that you knew what he could do to you, what he would do to you again if you let him, that confusion was stronger than ever, and if it should scare you, you were still beyond caring. 

It felt as if he was affected, too. A few moments floated by, and he tried and failed to sound casual as he asked “you think you’re ever gonna want to... do it again?”

“Any time you like.” And you could feel him shiver.

“...You might regret saying that.” Tallahassee kissed the top of your head. “So we’re gonna keep this thing casual, then, I take it?”

You couldn’t quite read his tone of voice, but what did it matter? The relief that he wasn’t looking for a way out made you feel warm and bubbly. You only wanted it to last.

“Sure. Casual and discreet, I guess.”

He snorted. “Alright. I’ll just have to keep my hand across your mouth next time, then.”

Oh God. Now it was your turn to shiver. “That works for me.”

#tallahassee #tallahassee x reader #zombieland: double tap #zombieland #zombieland 2 #my fics #woody

[altrodent]

I have been watching, reading, and playing so many things recently so here is some content you can expect to see from me soon-ish (hopefully)!

ZOMBIE-LAND

• Columbus (duh)

• Tallahassee (if you guys behave, istg 😭)

BORDERLANDS (Tales From The Borderlands)

• Rhys (Obvi, honestly obsessed atm)

• Vaughn (🩷)

• Hologram Handsome Jack (maybe some angst 👀)

• August (I know, I know, don’t judge!)

BASEKETBALL

•Coop, Remer, and maybe both of them at the same time again 🤭

REQUESTS!

I have received a BUNCH of requests lately, and I’m super happy, I’ll make sure those are my priority as I am thrilled to have your support! But just know I have seen them and I am/will be working on them!🩷

Thank you for all the love and support, seeing you guys enjoy my work means the world to me 🖤

#x reader #x you #fanfic #fluff #x you fluff #zombie #zombieland double tap #baseketball #joe cooper #coop #doug remer #remer #borderlands #rhys strongfork #vaughn borderlands #handsome jack #columbus #tallahassee #doubletap #columbus x reader #tallahassee x reader #rhys x reader #Vaughn x reader #handsome jack x reader #doug remer x reader #joe cooper x reader #requests

[zodiyack]

Family

Pairing: Columbus x reader

Warnings: Violence, swearing, zombies, death?, SPOILERS TO THE FIRST ZOMBIELAND MOVIE, um probably some stuff that would make you grossed out? I dunno, it’s zombies man, fluff

Bold + italic: Columbus’ voice-over || Italic: Memory, but I’m sure that’s already been established in my other fics 

Note: I apologize if this is trashy, I wrote the beginning following the movie, since I’ve literally seen it about 100 times, and I realized I would have to include the reader more so I came up with the second half, but I’m not sure if I like it. Hope you guys enjoy! 

masterlist

Columbus woke up, puzzled. He turned to face the previously sleeping girl, eyes widening when he saw her bloody and vomit covered face. She was making weird groaning sounds, but he was too busy panicking to notice them.

“Oh my God. Are you okay?” He started backing up.

She opened her mouth to let a puke-like-liquid pour out. Columbus jumped up, startled, worried, and slightly grossed out.

“Woah, woah, woah!” 406 screamed and hopped off the couch, following him slowly. “Okokok, stop, stop, stop! ...What are you doing?” She lunged at him, reaching out with one arm to claw or grab him. The screams that came out of her mouth while doing so sounded inhuman, demonic even.

Columbus wasn’t sure of what was happening, but he was slowly processing it. And slowly processing is better than not processing at all. He darted off to the kitchen, 406 following behind, still screaming. His back hit the fridge and 406 slid into the kitchen.

He lifted a blender as a makeshift weapon, “Stay back 406. I don’t want to hurt you-” She blinked as the top half of the utensil fell off. Columbus stared at her for a few seconds, muttering one word when he realized what just happened to his form of protection. “Shit.”

406 lunged at him again, causing him to throw the blender to the side and move out of the way as quick as he could. She ran straight into the fridge, turning around and following him. They ran through the house, her being blood thirsty, and Columbus being scared for his life.

He ran into a room on the right and shut the door as quick as he could. However, 406′s ankle was in the way. He had shut the door on her ankle. She wrestled to get in, screeching louder when she twisted her foot and he pushed harder against the door. The bone was now visible, and Columbus, being the innocent sweetheart that he is, apologized over and over to the undead girl.

“Oh my God, I am so fucking sorry!” 

406 screeched, but in all honesty, it sounded like she was screaming “ow” in the inhuman voice. Her face kept contorting in pain, it didn’t last long though. She managed to push the door open.

Columbus ran to the connected bathroom, rushing to unlock the door that led out of it. Unfortunately for him, she was fast. She pulled him off the door and threw him into the shower, making the shower-curtain fall on top of him. 406 did as the curtain had done, but on purpose, and tumbled onto Columbus.

Panicking even more than he had just a few minutes ago, Columbus grabbed the curtain and tossed some of it over her head, putting his hands on her shoulders to keep it from coming off. Her face-shape began to appear in the curtain as she screamed and leaned forward. Her fighting grew more violent, her mouth almost reaching his face, he slid his hands to the part of the curtain behind her head. It would’ve suffocated a normal human, but once again, Columbus was in denial and too panicked to notice the abnormality

She grabbed the shoulders of his hoodie, the two moving around as they wrestled for life or death. Columbus finally got the upper hand and pushed 406 into the cupboard. Her mouth was more visible now, and she was biting over the curtain, which had gone into her mouth. A few chomps later, and her tongue ripped through the curtain, blood spilling out of the hole with it.

Columbus made a sickening noise, reaching behind himself with one hand, the other still holding his undead neighbor back. 406 was now grabbing his face in an attempt to pull it closer to hers while her tongue moved around. A smaller cupboard opened behind Columbus, allowing him to reach in. He pulled out a bag of cotton balls, taking a second look in confusion and slight regret.

The cotton balls were thrown at 406′s face, not phasing her in any way. He reached in again, pulling out a roll of toilet paper and throwing it at her, making a face after it didn’t affect her either. His reaction to the useless weapons could be summed up with the words; “What. The. Actual. Fucking. Fuck.”

He finally pulled out a random spray-can, spraying it into 406′s open mouth. She started coughing. Columbus was unaware that she was a zombie, as it was only the beginning of the apocalypse, but she was. And since she had only recently turned, she was faster and still reacted in a somewhat human way.

Columbus took the chance he was gifted, moving backwards on the floor while 406 coughed. By the time he stood up, 406 was growling and wrestled the curtain off. She crawled towards Columbus, who was now half on the toilet and grabbing the toilet tank’s lid. She finally reached him, only to get the lid smacked hard to the back of her head.

Breathing heavily, Columbus walked backwards out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut. He held up the lid, continuing to walk backwards. Panic and cautiousness never left him.

“You see, you just can’t trust anyone. The first time I let a girl into my life and she tries to eat me.”

He stopped halfway in the hall. Something didn’t feel right. 

The door pulled open with a loud creak, and 406 used the door frame to help herself stand up. She looked at him and limped forwards a little. Her eyes met his. Even though she was dead, her glare seemed so agitated, it felt human.

“Please...” He started backing up. “Listen to me,” he swallowed. The sweat was glistening on his forehead. “406. If you’re in there...You’re just sick.” Columbus shook his head, trying to reason with the undead girl. “Okay?”

406 moved her head around. She looked at him intensely. Then, she lifted her head to the ceiling and closed her eyes. She let out a loud demonic scream. It was the most horrifying shit Columbus had ever heard and seen; she limped towards him, dragging the broken foot behind, her speed picking up quickly.

Columbus prepared himself. She was getting closer. Closer. Closer. Until-

‘BANG’

He smacked the lid across her face with the rest of the strength he had. Her body dropped to the floor and stayed there. She lied limp and dead. For real this time. 

And with that, the rule of Double Tap was born. As well as Columbus’ other rules and knowledge of the zombies. Zombies existed, and it was time to wake up and realize it.

Where was Columbus now? He was with his family. No, not his real family...they were dead. He was with Tallahassee, Little Rock, Wichita and Y/n. 

They survived the grocery store. That’s where the two men met Little Rock and Wichita. They survived the Police Station. That’s where the four of them met Y/n. And they survived Pacific Playland all together. That’s where the two men rescued the three girls. That’s where they called each other family.

To be specific, he was lying in bed with Y/n. Cuddling is something that is need often in the zombie apocalypse, seeing as the world has been taken over by man-eating monsters. Cuddles were a way to comfort your partner at a time like this one. And that’s what they were. Partners. Lovers. Mates. Soulmates.

They were and had been for a while now. He was glad that he let a girl into his life once more. Y/n was his world, and he was hers. When Y/n met Columbus, she was serious, not afraid, ready to die. However, now that she had been with him for a long time, she was willing to cling on a while longer. And he was too.

Y/n bashed the third zombie’s head with the end of the rolling chair. Her safe place had been destroyed. The undead were closing in. Who would do this?

“Hurry! We’re gonna need to hurry if we want to get out of here a- ...alive...”

The h/c girl turned to the voice. It was a young girl. She had braids in her hair, a shotgun in hand, and was tapping the other girl next to her. The older girl turned and her mouth dropped open.

“Columbus. Tallahassee.”

The two men she must’ve been talking to turned. One caught Y/n’s eye. He was a rather sweaty, but cute curly haired guy. His curls were sticking to his forehead. He was breath-taking. The other male, was an older guy in a cowboy hat. If y/n had to guess, she’d guess he was Tallahassee.

“Uh- uhm- hello. Are you...”

“Bitten? No. But thanks to you guys, I could have been. What’d you do anyways?”

“We um...” The child spoke up again. She didn’t know how to explain it, her badass aura was replaced with shock. “Well we thought this place was abandoned.”

“That’s okay. Do me a favor though.” The group nodded, one of them shooting a zombie that managed to get through, then returning their attention to Y/n. “Take me with you.”

“Excuse me?” Cowboy-hat-man asked. He had a country-like accent, and that added to Y/n’s guess of names. He looked suspicious of her.

“Take me with you.”

“Why should we-”

“Okay. You know how to work a gun, correct?”

Y/n quickly pulled out shot a zombie that stood behind the curly haired man. It was like it came out of nowhere, but it helped Y/n prove her point and confirm the man’s question. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She shot the zombie’s head a final time, now that it had been in her view after the group moved to see what she shot at.

“Cool. I’m Little Rock.”

“Nice shot. Wichita.”

“Come on guys, are we seriously gonna-”

“Columbus. How’d you know to double tap?”

“Just something I do. Nice to meet you guys. I’m guessing angry cowboy is Tallahassee?” The group nodded with smiles on their faces. They didn’t even know it yet, but they seemed more and more like a family with each moment they spent together.

“Y/n?”

“Yes Columbus?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She giggled, adjusting her head on her boyfriend’s chest.

“Y/n?”

She giggled more, “Haven’t we already done this?”

“Yes but...”

“Hmm?” She closed her eyes. She was listening to his heart beat and his talking, it was all so soothing.

“I’m glad we met you.”

“I’m glad you guys did too. And I’m really glad that we’re all together now. A family.”

“A family.”

Their lovely time alone was crashed by Tallahassee, a now 15 year old Little Rock, and Wichita. They jumped onto the bed, laughing amongst themselves. Their family wanted in on the cuddles. The entire family was there, and they were thankful.

#zombieland #zombieland x reader #columbus #columbus zombieland #columbus x reader #columbus imagine #columbus x you #columbus x y/n #reader insert #x reader #petite reader #plus size reader #character fluff #character x you #character x reader #character imagine #imagine #zombie #zombies #little rock #wichita #tallahassee #double tap #nut up or shut up #time to nut up or shut up #zombie kill of the week

[sheerfreesia007]

Rules of Survival

Title: Rules of Survival

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Tequila x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 691

Warnings: Firearms, Violence, Killing Zombies

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711​, @fioccodineveautunnale​, @phoenixhalliwell​, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​, @linkpk88​

Author Notes: This one is a little self indulgent, I describe the reader’s height and hair length. I really enjoyed writing this cute little fic. It was inspired by Zombieland. 

Gif Credit: Google

The low groaning from the zombies was growing louder and louder as the creatures made their way closer to him. He looked around the warehouse that he managed to sneak into and saw that there wasn’t much to use for protection or to shield himself with. Laying off a few shots he was able to take out a few of the zombies at the front of the group. But soon they all seemed to pile into the warehouse and fill the space. Tequila ducked down behind a tower of pallets and tried to catch his breath.

         “You know you should really invest in doing cardio.” came a chipper voice to his left and Tequila swung his head to stare at you. You were a short little thing probably only reaching below the end of his sternum and you had shoulder length wavy curls that fell in wild abandon around your face. Your eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint and you were armed to the teeth. He watched as you stood next to him and cocked your shotgun. “Ready boys?!” you called out and Tequila heard a chorus of responses. He watched in awe as you stepped out from behind the tower of pallets and began firing off your shotgun at the zombies. 

         You were majestic, truly and utterly. Tequila felt his breath leave him as he watched you in what seemed to be slow motion. He watched as you fired off two shots from your shotgun and then quickly moved onto a nine millimeter that you had stashed in the back of your pants. You were agile and ruthless as you fired shot after shot. When your magazine ran out you easily and almost effortlessly replaced it with a brand new loaded one and continued on your rampage. 

         Finally the gun fire ended and Tequila found himself slowly standing to peer around the pallets. The whole group of zombies that had been after him all lay dead on the floor. He watched as you quickly weaved your way through the carnage and easily fired off what seemed to be an excessive extra shot into each zombie’s head.

         “Double tap.” came a grunt to his right and he looked over at an older man who stood not far from him standing with his feet shoulder width apart and holding a rifle lazily in his hands.

         “What?” Tequila asked confused as he stared at the man next to him.

         “It’s one of her rules. She’s quite a few but thankfully all of her rules have kept us alive.” came his gruff response.

         “Rules? What rules?” Tequila questioned still feeling confused.

         “Rules to live by.” came your chipper voice and Tequila turned back to look at you. “Rules of survival.” You finally came to a stop in front of him and he watched your eyes narrow slightly at him surveying him shrewdly. “Wanna join our group? We need another to make it an even number.” you asked cheerfully and Tequila watched as you smiled widely up at him. His heart skipped a beat in his chest at your smile and he couldn’t help the grin that graced his face.

         “Sure.” he said, a little uncertain. He didn’t know how to handle you, you were a little too chipper and happy after killing a whole bunch of zombies to protect him. He hadn’t met anyone like you and you intrigued him. You were not only gorgeous but you also could handle a firearm and who didn’t love a badass gorgeous babe? 

         “Great! You can be my buddy for the buddy system.” you said easily and put your fingers up to your lips and whistled loudly. Tequila watched with wide eyes as at least ten other people came out of their hiding spots in the warehouse. Most of them were men but there were also some women as well.

         “This is your group?” he asked surprised and you nodded your head with a smile.

         “Yup! Welcome to the family!” you said with a warm smile and Tequila smiled back at you for once feeling as if everything would be alright if he was at your side.

#my writing #halloween special #agent tequila #agent tequila x reader #kingsman the golden circle

[thiswreckageivebecome]

The Winter Soldier is Still Here (Part 26 - “The Newcomer”) (Bucky/Winter Soldier x Fem!reader)

Word Count: 2410

Warnings: None

Author's Note: You may want/need to use Google Translate for this chapter... Also, I do not own the artwork.

Masterlist

BUCKY POV

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

I didn't have time to warn Natasha. (Y/N) was already attacking her. I punched Charscovsky three times, once to cause unconsciousness, another time for everything he'd done to her, and a third time to ensure he'd remain out for a while. (Y/n) once made me watch a strange movie named Zombieland and if I learned nothing else from it, I learned to double-tap.

As he slid to the floor, I quickly tried to figure out how to handle the situation. I sprung towards (Y/n), knocking her so that we rolled across the ground but she no longer had Natasha pinned. I pinned her but it wasn't for long. She kneed me in the gut and when I scrunched in pain she was able to kick me off and against the wall. The strength was undeniable. Natasha distracted her as she began to charge me, shocking her with one of those taser discs she always had on hand. It stopped (Y/n) just long enough for me to step away from where she was headed. I attempted to pin her hands behind her back but she bounced back from the tasering quicker than expected. He had taken her from me in the worst way imaginable.

"Bucky, " I just barely heard Natasha say. "We've got to get her unconscious. She's manic, " she said in between blocking hits. "Barnes!" she continued, at a higher volume this time in hopes of knocking me from my thoughts. "I know you don't want to but you HAVE to. You have to do it! Do it for (Y/n)." Natasha was able to grab her just in time for me to push her so hard into the concrete wall that she fell down immediately unconscious.

I stumbled down beside her to hold her in my arms. Tears came to my eyes. "Natasha, all I ever wanted was to not harm her, yet here we are again. I've thrown her into another wall and now worst of all, she's a winter soldier."

NATASHA POV

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

Out of nowhere, someone was on my back and attempting to take me to the floor. Given that they had the element of surprise, they almost succeeded. I grabbed them just right, throwing them backward off of me but they simply skimmed across the floor, landing on all fours. When she looked up I recognized the face but not the eyes. It was (Y/n) but it was obvious that she was no longer (Y/n). They had turned her and this was about to be a horrendous situation. She ran at me again but luckily I was prepared so I began blocking every punch and kick she sent my way amidst trying to speak with James. "He is not going to handle this well, " I thought as she hit me in the neck with her leg, attempting to take me down. I had to convince him to knock her out. He was the only one of us strong enough to do it. She was too strong in her maddened state. I didn't want to watch the heartbreak on his face as my words registered and he came to the terms that he would indeed have to knock her out. Luckily, I was too distracted attempting to retain my life than to have to watch this but after she was unconscious on the floor, I had to see it and it was 70 times worse than I thought it would be. Despite my heart breaking for James, a shadow caught my attention more than the cracking inside my chest. I readied myself for another attack.

Out of the shadows came a figure completely clothed in black, in a...was that a catsuit? The figure held up their hands as in surrender as another figure appeared to their left, an African woman dressed in warrior garb. The face of the suit disappeared and the face of an African man appeared in its stead.

"Hello, I am King T'Challa of Wakanda. This is Okoye. We have been tracking Hydra for two years now and we came to confiscate the leader but it seems you've almost beat us to it." He attempted a smile, yet it was obvious they both remained on guard and prepared for a fight if there would be one. I stood slowly. I knew the name but only as a dignitary. Wakandans tended to keep to themselves despite that wars around their nation broke out consistently; they always remained neutral and out of the fight. I rose slowly. I didn't believe them to mean any harm, especially if they had been indeed hunting Hydra superiors.

"I'm Natasha," I introduced myself but kept my distance. "This is-"

"Mr. Barnes, yes; and this must be (Y/n)," he finished the introductions. Bucky and I both exchanged looks before viewing him quizzically.

"She has been infected, just as he was, " Okoye stated, emotionless, referring to (Y/n) and then James. She then began to approach the Hydra leader, Charscovsky and injected him with something. "A sleeping antidote that should keep him under for the next 72 hours," she explained sensing our confusion.

"We wish to bring Charscovsky back to Wakanda with us," T'Challa stated simply. "Will that-"

"No," Bucky growled. "He is going to pay for what he has done." T'Challa had a glimmer of worry walk across his features. Okoye seemed more annoyed than anything.

"This is what we intend for him, yet he has additional crimes against our country and people that we intend to question and incriminate him for."

"No. He will pay for it and I will bring the punishment. He has taken everything from me, absolu-"

"You are not the only one he has taken things from Mr. Barnes," T'Challa's voice rose and had a bite in it. It only brought more tension into the air.

"Look, I understand we all have dogs in this fight, but we do not know each other. How are any of us to trust each other?" I attempted to bring some peace even if it was questionable peace.

"We do know you. We know the-" Okoye began but she was visibly silenced with a look from T'Challa.

"We know who you are, Ms. Romanoff. We are aware of the Avengers and the missions that they have taken on. We are aware of the Accords, the tensions that have arisen, and the pasts of each individual that are part of the team...or not," he finished off, motioning towards James with the last bit.

"And how do you know all of this? Wakanda is a closed-off, neutral, and underdeveloped country, is it not?"

"Ahh, Ms. Romanoff, that is where you are wrong. Things are not always the way they appear," he paused before looking to James and continuing, "are they, Mr. Barnes?"

BUCKY POV

———————-

I didn't know why I trusted these strangers, but a part of me did without question. All of my training pointed to a different thought process, yet I couldn't help but believe what they said and I felt that they didn't believe me to be the threat most did.

"No," I answered plainly.

"You see, Mrs. Romanoff when your team discovered Mr. Barnes was alive, he was seen as a threat and not to be trusted. He was seen as an enemy of the states because of his past. What your team failed to understand, however, what even Mr. Barnes I suspect fails to understand, is that he is and has always been a victim of Hydra. He is not the one to be blamed for the actions of the past 70 years." His words shocked me, absolutely shocked me and I was unable to respond. He believed I wasn't at fault. He continued when neither Natasha or myself responded. "You see, Wakanda has its own secrets. We do keep things from the world. We have kept our secrets hidden from the world for many years. My father, as his before him, and his before him, and so on, they all believed that by opening ourselves up to the world that they would attempt to overtake us, to plunder us, and to leave us desolate. However, as our country has thrived, and now...as I have been forced to take on the throne, I see that by keeping ourselves in hiding, our prosperity in hiding, we are only looking out for ourselves instead of looking out for our fellow humankind. We want this to be our first act in stepping out of the shadows and in doing something for mankind, by taking Charscovsky back with us, and in turn ensuring he never hurts anyone else. He is the tip of the top and by taking him down, a multitude of Hydra is taken with him." As if in attempts to protect Hydra, (Y/n) began to shake, tremble, and bolt about on the floor, still unconscious, but attempting to make her way out into the world again. I knelt down to attempt to calm her, knowing it was useless.

"(Y/n), it's okay. I'm here. I'm here and I'm not going to let them hurt you anymore." I could feel my eyes welling up and a tear escaped down my cheek. I noticed Okoye approach gently.

"Mr. Barnes, I can administer her a sedative that will help." I could only nod, knowing that if I attempted to speak at that moment, it would come out a scream, a scream of fury and sorrow. She worked quickly, injecting (Y/n), and then backing slowly away again, giving us space. I decided to sit down against the wall and pull her into my arms so that she could lay all of her weight into me, not that she was even aware of it. It was silent for a moment as everyone waited for me to regain control of my emotions. After that moment passed, T'Challa and Okoye exchanged words quietly and in their own language.

"Ngaba sineendawo ezaneleyo kuzo zonke i-eVTOL?"

"Wam kumkani," Okoye answered, "Ngokuqinisekileyo awuthandi ukuwabuyisela bonke eKakanda kunye nathi."

"Okoye, sinokubanceda. Sinokubanceda bobabini."

"Kodwa ngantoni na, ukumkani wam? Ngokuqinisekileyo awukholelwa ukuba sinokuzithemba! Ube yintsebenziswano ephindwe kabini ebomini bakhe kwaye uqeqeshwe ngokuqeqeshwe kakhulu, ingaba uyisiphoso sakhe okanye akunjalo."

"Ungakhathazeki, Okoye. Ndiyakholwa kulo mzuzwana, ukuba banokuthenjwa. Khangela oko bayenzele le ntombazana. Khangela oko bakubeka engozini," T'Challa replied.

Okoye removed her attention from the conversation to take us into view. Neither Natasha or I recognized this language. Hydra must not have ever seen Wakanda as a threat otherwise I surely would understand the secret conversation in its entirety.

"Would you like to share with the class," Natasha broached.

"Eyona ... Ndicinga ukuba babeya kubakho ukusivumela ukuba sithathe uCharscovsky ngaphandle kokulwa xa sasinceda le ntombazana," Okoye said, blatantly ignoring Natasha.

"Ewe ... kwaye sinokumnceda," T'Challa grinned slightly with a teasing tone. He then continued in English so that we could understand. "If you will come with us, we can help her. We can help both of you, actually. It will take time, but it can be done...or should I say, undone. However, you must let us bring Charscovsky with us. We will not leave him here."

Natasha looked at me. I could see the indecision in her eyes, the fear that she didn't want anyone to see. She didn't trust them. Hell, I didn't fully trust them, but just the paltry iridescence of saving grace that they may offer (Y/n) and hopefully erase what had been done to her...I would take that offer, no matter the cost.

"We'll go. (Y/n) and I will go. Natasha, you should go back to the compound. They'll be worried by now."

"But Buc-," she attempted to object.

"Natasha, it's fine. We'll be okay. Well, as okay as we can be. Someone has to go back and let them know something, but please make something up. Don't tell them what has happened. Steve will blow a gasket. Well, that plus, he'll be right on our heels." She approached me so that she could attempt a quieter conversation.

"Barnes, we don't know them. This could all be another setup." I looked at this stranger, T'Challa. I examined him for a moment. "It's not. They mean to help," I responded matter-of-factly. She could sense there was no changing my mind. I held (Y/n) more tightly to my chest. "I have to do this for her. She didn't deserve this, Nat. I have to do anything I can to take it away." Her face dropped before she dropped her head in defeat. She stood and turned to the two strangers.

"Is there any way that we could keep in contact so that we can be assured this isn't a setup?" T'Challa eyed her mindfully.

"We will contact you as soon as we reach Wakanda. From there, after we have them all settled, we can send you the coordinates so that you and your team can come to see the true Wakanda and your friends for yourselves." I could tell she only liked this plan a minuscule amount, but she also knew it was the best offer she'd get so she nodded curtly. I stood and went to pick (Y/n) up. To my surprise, T'Challa approached and assisted in retrieving her from the ground. He placed her in my arms so that I could walk and she would be more comfortable despite that she didn't know the difference. He then pressed a beaded bracelet on his arm.

"Shuri, get the miscreant," he said, and out of thin air appeared a board-like holographic that went underneath Charscovsky and lifted him in the air ahead of us. We followed Okoye and the limp body of the Hydra leader outside to see an aircraft appear out of thin air. I could practically feel Natasha's eyes grow in synchronous time with my own. Clearly, these people were much more advanced than we ever thought. Little did I know I had absolutely no idea the technological advancements that were in store for my eyes. I bid Natasha goodbye.

"Thank you, Nat. You will never know how much I appreciate your help today. (Y/n) will too when she's better." She nodded in response and something materialized in her eyes that I did not understand but I did not question it. I turned and followed T'Challa onto the ship and we lift off for Wakanda.

#the winter soldier is still here #bucky barnes #winter soldier #fanfiction #bucky fic #writing #masterlist

[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]

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

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 9 (Tallahassee/Reader)

pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7 (explicit) pt 8

Out of all the morning after-breakfasts Tallahassee had ever had, this might go down in his personal history as the most uncomfortable one. Columbus had at least had the decency to leave almost as soon as Tallahassee had come in, but the stare he’d subjected him to before he refilled his coffee and headed out the door would’ve been enough to unsettle anyone. Tallahassee couldn’t exactly decipher that look, but it did seem clear that there’d have to be a serious talk sometime in his future, one way or the other. That’d be something to look forward to... 

Little Rock could never be trusted to take a hint so he didn’t risk trying to shake her. The kid could get very clingy for someone who insisted she was too cool to care and he could tell by her way of talking that the more he tried to exclude her, the sooner she’d challenge him or demand he tell her why. At least she was busy bragging to him about all the symptoms of her hangover, half of them made up, and didn’t seem to have enough attention to spare to read the room. She was never one for leaving an uncomfortable stone unturned, and any time she paused and looked at him, he braced himself for being questioned on his body language or his relative quiet.

If only he could act natural. Kid around like usual, slip in a hint about what had happened to catch your attention and make it appear like he felt it was no big deal. 

And you... he couldn’t read you. You’d drifted over from the dishes to sit across the table from him, which was a good sign, but you barely looked at or spoke to him. You were clearly embarrassed, and that was no surprise, but what else were you feeling? He wanted to see you smile at him - and he realised then how often you had smiled at him before, sometimes cheeky, sometimes shy, but always real - but you just pecked at your food and sipped your drink and shot him the occasional quick glance. 

With a sinking feeling, he realised that, right now at least, it actually mattered. What you thought and felt when you saw him again, it mattered. Tallahassee helped himself to some crackers, coffee and canned fruit, working on autopilot without knowing what he did. 

What had happened to him? You were cute, sure, you were a lot less annoying than most people he’d met, but why the hell was he so unsettled by all of this? The two of you hadn’t ‘made love’, you’d fucked - there’d been no tender sighs or unbroken eye contact, ‘feelings’ hadn’t been mentioned by either of you, other than the ones of the flesh. 

And you’d done the right thing by leaving before he woke up. In any other situation, sneaking out like that would be a pretty unequivocal signal - if he hadn’t been so exhausted, he would’ve woken up early to sneak out himself. So why did it bother him? 

True, he’d had nothing much on his mind besides you for well over a month, but what else was there for him to think about? It’s not as if he could ignore you, you were the only woman around. Given the circumstances, it couldn’t possibly count as obsessive. And yes, technically he had dreamed about you every other night, but that was only because half the time the two of were literally drifting off in each others arms, huddling together for warmth. 

It must be the hangover fucking with his head. It hit him like that sometimes and then it usually took him until noon to stop going over everything he’d said and done when he was drunk, even if it was no more stupid and inappropriate than what he said and did when he was sober. What was it Columbus’d called it? Oh yeah. Hangxiety. Damned stupid expression.

Still, knowing the cause didn’t make those impulses go away. He felt it now: his hand itched to reach over and hold yours. Give it a squeeze, hope you’d squeeze back and give him the smallest signal that everything was still normal between you. 

Ghost a finger over your wrist and see if he could make you shiver again... Jesus, this was pathetic.

“...you look sick.”

“Huh?” he managed. Yep, Little Rock was staring at him now. Great.

“You look like you’re going to be sick. If you are, you should just go ahead and get it over with. You know, like you always say... better out than in.” 

 You were glancing his way again now, waiting for him to smooth this over.

“That’s just the sight of your face on an empty stomach, kid.”

“Uh-huh. Good one.”

“I guess none of us can recover from a party like we used to,” you said with an apologetic little smile. Shit. By now it’d be too late to backpedal and pretend like Little Rock had imagined it.

Tallahassee sighed and took a deep drink of his sour, black coffee. He’d been so sure he’d be able to play this cool, shrug this off, treat the whole thing like just a bit of harmless fun, and he was doing a miserable job at it. But even that wasn’t true, was it? The truth was that he hadn’t thought about the consequences at all, good or bad. It hadn’t mattered as long as he got to have you, to the point where he’d forgotten that there’d actually even be an after. And instead of getting you out of his system, now the old familiar pressure was building in him again faster than it ever had and all he wanted was to hurl Little Rock head first out through the kitchen window and then pull you down to the floor. 

And until he could have you again, he wanted you to smile at him, hold his gaze instead of slipping away, let him skip all of this awkward shit, skip the talking stage and let things be okay. Oh, he was fucked.

He cleared his throat. “I dunno. I’ve definitely had a lot worse.”

There it was, a flicker of a smile. He had to bite down hard on his lower lip to stop himself from grinning with relief like a complete idiot. 

Little Rock watched him with narrow eyes and Tallahassee quickly shoved an entire cracker into his mouth. This way, if she questioned him again he wouldn’t be able to respond. 

#tallahassee #tallahassee x reader #zombieland: double tap #zombieland #zombieland 2 #my fics #I think this needs editing #woody #just a short one this time #but I think the next part might need some more work

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 8 (Tallahassee/Reader)

You had gone. Tallahassee knew it before he’d even opened his eyes - he could feel the empty space beside him where your body had been, the cool hollow in the old mattress. Well... was he really surprised? 

The sun had already risen high enough to fall full in his face and the light was painful. He reached over and managed to release the blinds with the fourth tug on the string. The crash of the metal bouncing off the window ledge made his head hurt even worse. He must have been more drunk last night than he remembered, or maybe he was just getting too old to bounce back like he’d used to. And you must have been drunker than he’d thought too... Christ, the things you’d said. You’d sounded so desperate so quickly - he could almost still hear how you’d begged him. 

And you’d looked beautiful under him, better than he could have ever pictured it. Tallahassee sucked in a sharp breath and tried to ignore the memory of you squirming beneath him, shaking, holding on to him as if you wanted to swallow him whole. Because that memory would get him hard in an instant, and what was the fun in that when you weren’t here to take care of it?

You must be embarrassed, there was no better explanation for why you’d gone, why you’d slipped out of his arms without even an excuse or a good morning. He wasn’t feeling down enough to doubt that you’d enjoyed it - no one begged like that for something they didn’t want - but we all enjoy things in the moment and think better of it in the cold light of morning, don’t we? Especially since this plague broke out, his life had just been one rash decision after another so he ought to know. 

Tallahassee rubbed his head and felt naked. He’d slept in his jeans - you’d been in too much of a hurry for him to undress and afterwards he’d been much too tired and sated to care - but his hat was on the floor. You must have knocked it off the bed when... He leaned forward to grab it and caught a movement in the corner of his eye, tensed instantly and only relaxed slightly when he realised it was his own reflection in a mirror he hadn’t spotted the day before. 

Tallahassee knew he was probably a little more full of himself than he ought to be but normally he thought he’d more than earned the right to swagger. It wasn’t all about looks in any case, but what he saw now wasn’t too shabby. His face was a little crooked, maybe, and he’d been balding for so long he couldn’t even picture himself with a full head of hair but for a man his age it couldn’t be much better. A lot of women had gone wild for him back in the day, others had been more confused than turned off and even they usually came around to his appeal if he turned on the charm. He was fit, too. That never hurt. 

 But now you’d made him hesitate. He looked at himself and his own approval didn’t satisfy anymore. Whatever had sent you scurrying off, he wanted to fix it. He wanted to find you, right now, and remind you of whatever it was that’d had you so desperate for him last night. If you regretted it, he wanted to have you weak for him again, if not for long then long enough to give you something else to regret. It wasn’t that he needed you, especially not to reassure him, but, well... having a beautiful woman stroke your ego was so much better than having to stroke it yourself. 

That’s all this was. A bit of fun, an ego boost. Two people at the end of the world, making the best of a bad situation. As he dressed and freshened himself up, he didn’t hurry and he didn’t stall. He wanted to see you, but he wasn’t in a rush. And he wasn’t worried about what you might say, how you might look, how you might avoid his gaze and slip out of his reach... If his heart beat fast when he walked down the stairs, it was just the fatigue from the night before.

---

It was impossible to focus on anything this morning. Just when you thought you’d gotten yourself under control, you caught yourself coming back to reality after a full minute of your mind drifting. 

You were full of giddy, aimless energy and longed to channel and vent it any which way but your focus drifted away from any task you picked up and conversation was absolutely hopeless. Columbus was trying to be polite and regain normalcy by acting almost as friendly and calm towards you as ever but no matter how you tried, the tail end of everything he said turned into muffled nonsense as your attention wandered, and you couldn’t think of anything to say that might meet him half way. 

Keeping up friendships seemed so inconsequential now. You tried to wash dishes, looked down at your hands and remembered instantly what Tallahassee had felt like under them. That was all it took for you to get swept up again, for your pulse to quicken and for the world to fade away into another daydream. 

You’d left Tallahassee sleeping upstairs. When you stirred he frowned but didn’t come to and it seemed cruel to bother him if he wasn’t rested. Even climbing awkwardly over his long legs didn’t wake him up and you almost managed to convince yourself you were being nice and not at all embarrassed. With everything that had happened last night, for Columbus’ sake if nothing else, it would be nice to have some plausible deniability and not be spotted leaving Tallahassee’s room when everyone else was already up and at it... Shame had nothing to do with it and you weren’t even slightly worried about how he’d act towards you now that everything was different. 

It was different. It had to be. Right? Not even he could care so little that he’d pretend like nothing had happened. For all his talk of being a rock and an island, surely he couldn’t help but soften a little bit or at least act like it in hopes of a second ride. It wasn’t like you wanted him as a boyfriend... but you also couldn’t deny how good it felt to sleep beside him, feeling warm and safe, really safe, for the first time since all this shit had started. 

And before that... it’d been thrilling to look up at him and see so plainly that, right then in the moment at least, and even if it was just sex, he needed you, wanted you and was willing to work for it. You knew what casual looked like, and Tallahassee hadn’t been it. He’d looked at you as if you were the last drink of water in a wide desert.

It wasn’t just between you and him that things would change. When your group was this tiny, every argument, every secret told, every side picked in an argument, no matter how inconsequential, could change the dynamic entirely. 

Did Columbus and Little Rock know? Little Rock was engrossed in a book with her breakfast growing cold beside it and hadn’t said or done anything out of the ordinary. She was pale and full of melodramatic regret, but that was clearly from the hangover. If she was embarrassed and disgusted with anyone it seemed to only be herself, else she would have given you some sort of grief by now. Or walked out as soon as you’d entered the room.

Columbus was different. When he’d joined you in the kitchen he’d looked at you almost as if you were jus a casual acquaintance, and he didn’t act particularly apologetic or deferential or hurt. He didn’t betray much of anything besides bemusement.

If he did know, and it was starting to feel very like it, that was understandable. Someone who’d choose Tallahassee over him must sink like a stone in his estimation - after all, Columbus liked clever people. Probably not even he was quite self deprecating enough to understand this preference...

As awkward as it all was, you couldn’t keep your thoughts from Tallahassee long enough to care when every time you moved you felt the pulsing of a fresh bruise or the twinge from a limb that had bent out of place. Your cunt was sore, too, in a warm, wonderful, dull way that made your face flush hot and your eyes lose focus every time you shifted your weight from one leg to the other. He’d stretched you wide, given you no time at all to get used to him and fucked you so hard you could still feel it. 

 The cut on your leg had nearly healed by now, but it was a miracle the sutures hadn’t ripped from the friction alone. At least that wound gave you an excuse for limping slightly...

It was a struggle to hide your thoughts; you had to force yourself to pretend to care what happened around you, swallow hard around nothing and press your lips together to keep your breathing steady. Sitting down was out of the question unless you wanted to leave a stain.

“...I don’t think that’s going to get any cleaner.”

You looked over at Columbus, and then down at the sink where you’d been scrubbing the same plate for God knew how long.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” And you turned to him again so you’d be able to see his reaction when you added “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

He held your gaze for a moment with a look of pained acceptance, then nodded and looked away. He knew. Fuck, how thin were those walls? Or had he noticed your bed hadn’t been slept in? “Yeah, it... I think it was a bit of a weird one for all of us.”

The tone of his voice, his little shrug and half smile made you almost love him, and you kicked yourself for being so harsh with him before. He knew, and he wasn’t going to make a fuss. He would quit the field and if he felt sore about losing, he didn’t seem to want to bother you about it. Without thinking it through, you slipped your hands out of the rubber gloves and squeezed his shoulder. 

Columbus smiled and cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about what?” asked Little Rock, and then Tallahassee came sauntering in from the hallway. 

It wasn’t often that a guy in his position looked even better in the light of day, but there he stood, tall, tanned and secure and you had to grip the edge of the sink to hold yourself in place.

Until the moment you saw him again, you’d almost convinced yourself that you’d be able to play this cool. That maybe last night you’d gotten over the worst of your excitement, that things, while different, would at least be calmer now that you’d had a taste... but you felt weak, speechless, rooted to the spot like a hunted rabbit without the sense to run. There was no possible way for you to feel steady and safe until he held you again. 

#tallahassee #tallahassee x reader #zombieland: double tap #zombieland #zombieland 2 #my fics #woody #I know this update is many years late #but what the hell. I like this fic. Let's see where it goes! #x reader #lmk if you don't want me to tag you!

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 7 (explicit Tallahassee/Reader)

(thank you all so much for the comments and reblogs, it’s been SO encouraging!! I’m grateful for it so please consider reblogging this too if you like it - the Zombieland fandom is pretty small so every little helps :D)

Just when you’d thought the evening couldn’t have panned out any worse... You stared up at Tallahassee and felt your stomach churn. “You saw that?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I saw that. It ain’t nothing to be ashamed of, darlin. We all got needs.”

You were growing hot already. Surely your embarrassment must be written all over your face. He’d think... “It’s not like that.”

“Oh no?” Tallahassee strolled over to the bed and sat down slouched against the wall, one leg outstretched, one dangling off the edge. It was unfair that he could be so comfortable in himself while you were so miserable. “What’d he do wrong? You might as well go ahead and tell me cuz I’m guessing you won’t be leaving ’til you’ve got everything off your chest.”

“I just...” you couldn’t face him, not now. More than ever it felt as if his eyes could see straight into your head. “I’m just not interested in him. Not in that way.”

You counted three breaths before he spoke again.

“Coulda fooled me.”

Now you had to look at him. He was still smiling faintly, still watching you. It was difficult to make anything out in the gloom - was he waiting for something? Did he know, was he letting you stew in this for his own amusement? And... if you said it out loud, if he forced you to admit it only to reject you... were you really too proud to give him the satisfaction? It’d be over. No more tension, no more doubt, no more hope and uncertainty.

You took another drink and without knowing you’d made up your mind, you heard the words slip past your lips. “Tallahassee, you know how I feel.”

He cleared his throat. “I’m flattered you think I’m so perceptive, but I got no idea how you feel.”

You stared at him, felt your heart beat pounding in your weak hands, watched his smile turn slowly into a look of rapt confusion. The mattress shifted beneath you as he tensed. Your voice sounded cracked. “How could I look at him that way when you’re right here?”

Tallahassee breathed out slowly, sat up, drew a little closer and took the bottle from your hand to place it on the floor. His expression was grim, almost pained. Then he slipped a hand around your neck, squeezed it in a tight grip, pressed his thumb against your jaw until you met his eyes.

“Don’t play with me.”

You whined and parted your lips, sucked in a sharp breath, went soft, all before you could gather your wits. “I wouldn’t... I’m not.”

He looked rough, almost angry. His jaw was stiff and his eyes, searching yours, glancing at your mouth, were narrow and cold. “No?” His thumb stroked your throat, your cheek, then grazed across your lips and pressed against your chin to test you.

You opened up for him and your quick, desperate breaths came out like whimpers. Then finally he kissed you, rough and greedy and graceless with your head still trapped and his stubble scratching up your skin, he groaned into your mouth and gave you only split seconds to catch your breath before he pushed on. Your strength left your body the moment your lips met and it took both your hands pressed weakly to his chest for you to not fall forward in a faint. He was so warm.

Tallahassee let go of you just long enough to shrug out of his jacket and you took the opportunity while his arms were trapped to tug his t-shirt up and run your fingers over his stomach, up to his chest. He moaned. If you’d been more patient and if he’d let you call the shots, you would’ve been sorely tempted to tease and explore him as revenge for all the times he’d left you hanging. But he had you back in his tight embrace in a heartbeat, his rough hands were at your back, he tugged at your clothes, pushed and pulled at you to get you closer. You did your best and your impatience had the two of you working at cross purposes. He tried to grope your ass, you tried to climb into his lap. Tallahassee growled impatiently and slipped off the bed, ran his hands up your legs, then seemed to falter.

“Just how much have you had to drink?”

That made you smile. Perhaps he really was a gentleman, after all. But the thought of him stopping now, even if it only meant waiting another night to have him fuck you...

“Tallahassee,” you whispered and stroked his cheekbone, teased his lips and felt your breath hitch when he groaned and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I’ve come thinking about you more times than I can count.”

“Fuck me,” he breathed. “Really?”

“Really.”

He slipped his hands up higher, under your skirt, spread his fingers wide to feel as much of you as he could. His uncertainty was fading and he held your gaze, then ran his thumb across the front of your panties and laughed. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. You get any wetter and you could drown a horse. You’re telling me all this is for me?”

You bucked your hips up for more without caring if it betrayed just how desperate he’d made you. “Yes... please, Tallahassee... don’t stall.”

“Oh, you think I’m stalling?” He yanked your panties below your ass and had them off your knees so quick you heard the seams tear. You squeaked and he laughed. “That better?”

Since you couldn’t see much in here, you had to explore by touch instead. When he moved to start on his belt you pushed his hands aside to do it yourself and took the opportunity to feel him up through his jeans. His cock was thick and hot against your hand and you could feel it twitching even through the denim... Tallahassee might be caught up in the moment, but not so much that he couldn’t grin down at you and raise his eyebrows, smug as ever. He knew he’d impress and you gratified him with a slack jawed whimper. You worked at his belt and undid his fly with renewed urgency, pulled the fabric down just enough to be able to lift out his cock.

God, he looked gorgeous, so thick and long it had trouble standing up even though he was completely hard under your touch. Of course he wasn’t wearing boxers, that just wouldn’t have fit his brand.

He gave you enough time to wrap your hand around him and stroke him once before he grew too impatient, got on top of you again, pulled you down so your head fell back against the blankets and your ass edged off the bed. He leaned in close and pressed hard kisses to your throat and slipped a hand down to hike up your skirt and tease your cunt - by now you were soaking his sheets and he pushed two fingers into you with a slick, wet noise that might have embarrassed you if you’d had the attention to spare.

“Oh, god!” you whined, pushed up against his touch and held on to his shoulders for dear life. Finally, some friction, finally something filling you, stretching you.

“Christ, you’re hungry for it.” As low as his voice was, you could still hear a tremble in it. There was no mistaking it - he was as desperate for this as you were. How long had he wanted this? Why hadn’t he pounced sooner? Had he really not spotted how affected you were whenever he was near? Well, you had to make up for it now.

You kissed him back clumsily, cried out when he curled his fingers, felt goosebumps all over when his stubble raked over your skin. It wasn’t enough, not for either of you. His cock pressed against your thigh, hot and sticky with precum, and you reached down, took it in your hand and guided him into you.

“Fuck...” Tallahassee groaned and leaned his forehead against yours, breathed deep and slow to regain his composure. Inch by inch he let himself sink deeper into your cunt until the head of his dick pushed against your cervix and he felt you tense. You wrapped your shaking legs around his waist to keep him there on top of you and you moaned and shook by his ear. It had been so long... so long. Clearly he was in the same situation because his breathing was already ragged and hot and he kept his movements slow as he drew his hips back and finally began to fuck you. His weight was on his elbows and his feet, he fucked with his entire body, making up for a slow pace with hard, long strokes.

Tallahassee recovered beautifully, opened his eyes again and turned his attention back to you, to kissing your neck, your ear, touching your face and burying his fingers in your hair. “You’re so tight, sweetheart... fuck, you feel good around me.”

“Please,” you breathed and tried to pull him closer with legs and arms, so desperate for more that you didn’t notice at first how you were trapping him. “Please, Tallahassee...”

“Shh, I got what you need.” And he gave it to you with a hard enough thrust that the bed slid across the floor with a pained screech and slammed into the wall. You squealed and laughed and held on to him but he seemed too far gone to care who heard it. He was panting, pawing at you, sighing against your ear and each time you ran your hands over his back or pressed a clumsy kiss to his shoulder he shivered. “So fucking good...” he mumbled, shut his eyes tight and pulled one of your legs up to press your knee to your chest as if he couldn’t get deep enough into you.

“You, too,” you breathed back. Every time he pushed his cock back in you felt yourself clench and squeeze around him, trying to keep him inside you. “God, please, promise you’ll fuck me like this again.”

Tallahassee made a pained noise and leaned his forehead against his shoulder. “Oh, every night, sweetheart. You kidding me? I’ll fuck you very chance I get...”

He was trying to hold back, you could tell. There was nothing of his usual playfulness left, none of his careless confidence - he was just desperate, slamming into you again and again as if his life depended on it, digging his fingers into your flesh, trying to shut you up so your words didn’t send him over the edge already. It’d been that long... or maybe he really wanted you that badly. And you pictured him coming, buried to the hilt, balls twitching against your ass, shooting his come into you and moaning your name... and you didn’t want him to hold back, the idea of it turned you on so badly. You wanted him desperate even if it cut this short.

“Tallahassee, your dick just feels so good in me,” you whined and shivered with pleasure when you heard him gasp as if you’d punched him in the gut. “So much better than I imagined it...”

“Uh-huh,” he managed and wrapped his arms around you, raked his stubble against your shoulder and kissed your neck hard enough to bruise. “And you’re perfect...”

You couldn’t help but laugh - for the first time, something besides rage had rendered him practically speechless and without his cool. At least tonight, he was all yours. The way he clung to you, the way he moaned your name, the way he fucked you as if he was punishing you... you wanted more of it, all of it. “Promise me you’ll always fuck me raw like this...”

Tallahassee leaned out to stare you in the eye and his own were wild and searching and hungry. “Oh, you want me to come in you?” He reached up to grab your hair, pulled it back, made you arch your spine and bare yourself to him, dared you to take it back.

“Fuck...” He might not be in complete control for once, but that look in his eye, the way he leaned back and rolled his hips to push up against the wall of your cunt at just the right angle proved he wouldn’t hand the reigns over to you without a fight. You looked up at him, licked your lips, pleading. “Yeah, Tallahassee, I want-I want you to come in me...”

“Keep talking like that and I will,” he growled and a grin tugged at his lips when he saw how his words made you shiver. “I’ll pump you so full of it it’ll drip all the way down to your knees.”

“Oh...!” There was no backing down now. His thrusts were getting faster, almost losing their rhythm - either way, this perfect moment would end. You watched him and moaned, took in everything you could in this dim light, his gorgeous, weird face flushed and tense with need, his rough hands on you, his scent surrounding you and filling you with each breath. “Please, come in me... god, I’ve been dreaming about it. I just want to take it for you...”

“You take it so good, darling. Fuck, I won’t be able to hold back...”

You pulled him down again and wrapped your legs even tighter around his waist, dug your heels into his ass cheeks so he couldn’t withdraw an inch and you would have egged him on but there was no need - he groaned and cursed loud enough by your ear to hurt and you felt his dick jump and twitch and pulse in you, felt your insides get hot and full, felt his balls tense against your skin and his shoulders shake.

The two of you just lay there panting for a moment and you wanted to stay in it forever, in pleasure and a good kind of pain, mind blank and without worries. Tallahassee kissed your neck and slowly, slowly started to relax - which meant his weight was on you and you had to croak and shove him to get him to pull out and roll off. He slurred something that might have been “sorry” and dropped himself gracelessly onto the bed. As soon as he’d left you you felt his come and your wetness trickle out and you moaned and grabbed his blanket to dry yourself off as best you could.

You sat up awkwardly and looked over at him. Your left hip complained - you must have strained to give him room. Tallahassee was starting to catch his breath now and predictably he seemed incoherent and ready to pass out. He did manage to smile at you and you returned it.

“C’mere.” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, tugging you towards him. There might have been things you wanted to say to him, but there seemed to be no need for them now. Instead you stood on shaky legs and pulled off your clothes with as much grace as you could muster. He watched with silent, smug interest and made a noise almost like a purr.  “C’mere,” he repeated and did the same motion with his fingers.

“Patience,” you replied and he raised his eyebrows.

“‘ve we met?”

His bed was narrow and old and once again you wished you hadn’t kept him out of yours. But he made room between himself and the wall and pinned you there as soon as you climbed in, with both arms around you and his body pressed to yours. Your cunt was still hungry and wet and every touch from him made you sigh and long for round two, but Tallahassee was clearly spent and not apologising for it - apart from stroking your stomach and nuzzling his nose into your hair he was no use to you now. If you had known him longer or cared less you might have slipped your fingers in between your thighs to finish yourself off yourself, but now it didn’t feel right. Instead you lay awake a few moments longer than him, pondering every weird turn your life had had to take for you to end up here. It hadn’t averaged out into the positives lately, but if he kept fucking you like that and holding you the way he did now, with his strong arms and wide, warm chest shielding you from everything besides his bullshit... things might be looking up. You took a deep breath, shivered, stroked his wrist to keep it close to your heart and slowly settled in to sleep.

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee imagines #zombieland: double tap #Zombieland #zombieland fanfic #woody #my fics #piv tw #unsafe sex tw

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 4 (Tallahassee/Reader)

A jolt of movement woke you up and your startled brain tried to compensate for its confusion by running through a few scattered facts that you could cling to. Like your name and age, and that you were alive, and that you weren’t sure if it was still worth the effort, and that you felt absolutely sick to your stomach. Unlike the rest of your new motley crew, you had a good reason to keep track of, if not dates, then at least the number of days crawling past, so you also knew you’d been traveling in their company for at least two weeks. But you didn’t know where you were and you couldn't remember why you'd been unconscious. When you tried to sit up to check whether you needed to run or fight, your head forced you back down by giving your brain a good, hard squeeze.

“Aahh!” You would have complained more but somehow you couldn’t muster up the strength to form words. Tallahassee came into view above you. Things were real bad when that was the most reassuring thing you could have hoped for.

“Don’t move,” he said, too late.

“What...”

“You took a pretty bad tumble. We’re safe for now, just holed up in here until the other two bring the car over.” He was sitting by your side with his gun resting by his chair, breathing hard, sweat glittering on his forehead. The movement you’d felt must have been him laying you down... where? By gingerly running your hands down your sides you found you were propped up on some old blankets on top of wooden crates. Tallahassee must have been stuck for choices because it was not a comfortable surface.

Now he got up again, secured the door and picked up a first aid kit on his way over to his seat.

Boxes and debris took up most of the small room and the only light came from two small, dingy windows high on the wall and a flash light pointed towards the ceiling - it looked like the back rooms of shops everywhere, which was strange because the last thing you could remember was... running from a horde and finding yourself trapped against a fence cutting off the alley.

The wire at the top of the fence had been torn. As soon as that image entered your head, the sharp, hot pain from your leg made itself known and you squealed and drew your knee up as if you could protect yourself against it by shielding the area.

“Was wondering when you’d notice that,” Tallahassee said unsympathetically and pushed you gently down onto your back, not before you’d seen the gash running up from your knee and the blood drying into your jeans. “Gimme a minute to recover and we’ll get you cleaned up. You’re heavier than you look.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whined and saw the light begin to fracture and spread from tears.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Tallahassee drew his chair closer and leaned towards you, squeezed your shoulder, put his knuckles to your jaw to make you look at him. “Shh. You’re gonna be alright, come on now. Need some water?”

You reached out to take the proffered bottle but you shook so violently that he sighed and very gently slipped a warm, wide hand under your neck and helped you sit up to drink. His expression had softened now and that made it even harder for you to keep it together. When you’d finished, he poured some of the water onto his hands to get the worst of the red off of them, pulled the first aid kit onto his lap and zipped it open.

“Alright then. This ain’t gonna be pretty.”

He picked up the flash light and turned it on your leg and you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to see what he saw. With all that dried blood and fabric it was hard to tell how bad it was, but Tallahassee didn’t seem worried. The pain was intense but after the moment of surprise, it was beginning to be manageable. Was that a good sign? Or were you going numb?

“It ain’t deep but you’ll definitely need stitches...” He put a hand on your leg to pull the cloth a little out of the way and no, you weren’t numb because his touch instantly made you tense and grow hot. Tallahassee must have taken your sharp breath as a complaint, because he shot you an apologetic look. “Sorry, darlin. I’m sure I’m the last person you’d pick to play doctor, but it has to be done.”

After rummaging, he got out a pair of scissors and now the heat was climbing up your chest towards your face. He spotted your discomfort.

“Promise I won’t look more’n I have to.” As careful as he was, it still hurt like hell when he pulled the fabric away from your skin and slipped in one of the blades to start cutting. You licked your lips. If he was going to have enough room to work, you’d end up wearing something very similar to daisy dukes on that one side.

“Oh, it’s fine... you deserve some perks for getting me out of there.”

“Sweetheart...” Tallahassee chuckled. “I was just lying about that to make you feel better.”

“Right. Silly of me to expect anything else.”

If he was trying to distract you from the pain, it was definitely working - now you could add BO, pose and choice of underwear to your list of urgent worries.

His work was awkward going, especially when you had to spread your legs to give him room and try to make it look casual, but he quickly had at least the front of the pants leg cut free and peeled off of you, careful not to worry the cut.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Tallahassee looked miffed. “Course I do. You think I run crying to the nurse over every little scrape?”

How the hell should you know? He never talked about his life before all of this. Ten to one but he’d been an insecure office worker who’d seen the end of the world as the perfect opportunity to reinvent himself... but then that wouldn’t inspire much confidence in his surgical skills and no one else was queuing up behind him. Besides, you liked your romantic images of him, alligator wrestling, glassing bikers, chopping wood with his shirt off and whatever else it was that bad ass rednecks got up to.

You watched him as he did his best to wash his hands, pulled on some gloves, lined up his tools and patted his pockets for his flask. Before he could waste all of it on your leg you snatched it from him and took a swig. Vodka. He must be getting desperate.

“I’ll overlook that transgression, but only this once.”

With you sitting up and pointing the flash light as steadily as you could, Tallahassee cleaned the cut, first with more water, then with liquor and then, when you’d stopped complaining, with disinfectant from a nearly empty bottle. He must have noticed how you stopped squirming when he rested a hand on your bare leg and you could only guess at how he interpreted this. It was hot in here even though by now the blankets and the remains of your pants were soaking with water and sweat. When you shut your eyes you could still feel how near he was and the competing agonies of the pain and of wanting him even closer were neck and neck.

“There’s no dirt or fabric in there that I can see... better to stitch it up now and hope we can find some antibiotics than try to get it perfect later.”

“Is it going to scar?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Good.”

Tallahassee peered up from threading the needle, questioning this. You licked your lips and pressed on, determined to have anything else to think about apart from what was about to happen. “I mean, it’s officially the post apocalypse. I was starting to worry I wouldn’t blend in without some scars.”

“Quit talking like a damned geek. You sound like Columbus.”

“Well, he doesn’t exactly look the part, either.”

“He looks like an accountant fucked a ball of yarn.”

You laughed and Tallahassee held onto your leg tighter and pushed the needle in. You’d been gearing up for this. All you did was tense and hiss and keep your curses to yourself. The impressed-despite-himself look he shot you was all the reward you needed and that strengthened your resolve when he pressed on.

“That’s too mean,” you replied once you were sure your voice would come out steady-ish.

“By all means, chalk it up to jealousy of his youthful good looks if it makes you feel better.”

“Why would you be jealous of that?” You were trembling. Because of blood loss and shock and pain. “You’ve got your own.” No other reason.

Now it was his turn to laugh and he looked smug and preening, if not convinced. Preening suited him. “What can I say? Clean living and a clean conscience.”

“Fine then, keep your secrets.”

Silence crept back in and he focused on his task. The prick of the needle hurt, but it was the sickening feel and sound of the flesh being basically skewered onto it and then tugged along weirdly by the thread that was really unsettling. The mood in the room was heavy and tense and Tallahassee frowned even deeper each time he had to inch his hands a little higher.

“You know,” you said at last because saying anything, no matter how awful, was better than nothing. “When I pictured you poking around in my gash, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Tallahassee turned a dumbfounded look on you and you practically giggled with nerves. He snorted, shook his head, grinning as if he couldn’t believe what his ears had passed on from you. “Terrible. You’re starting to get worse than me.”

“It had to be said,” you lied.

“Well.” Tallahassee took this opportunity to get liberal with the disinfectant, maybe in the hopes that the stinging would shut you up. “Guess that goes to show you should be careful what you wish for.”

He thought you were joking, not just because you were joking but because for the first time you were actually straight up hitting on him instead of stealing glances here and there and hoping he’d press the issue himself. Of course, he had reason not to believe you - you were delirious and lost and trying not to think about how close you’d come to dying.

Those excuses made excellent shields for you to tell him what you thought and still play it all off as nonsense springing from the heat of the moment. Still, the tension built and now the awkward question wasn’t something only you had to wrestle with. He looked at you less but when he did, his eyes were quick and sharp with meaning and uncertainty.

You had run out things to say because the stitches climbed with agonising slowness and the first manic rush of adrenaline was fading fast. If he wanted to break the silence, it was definitely his turn and a few sly glances from him finally convinced him that the ball was in his court. “By rights, it really ought to be the other way around.”

“You lying on your back?”

“Well, yeah. With my shirt off, all heroic-like, and you fussing over me.”

“Oh, you’d love that.”

“Seems more in keeping with your feminine nature.”

That was bait, and you ignored it. “Are you saying I’d have to injure you to get your shirt off? Because I might.”

Perhaps Tallahassee hadn’t picked this topic as an invitation for you to keep flirting, but he didn’t look at all as if he minded. This time his smile bordered on predatory. “Darlin’, all you have to do is ask.” When his voice dropped low like that it became a low, rich rumble, difficult to handle even when you were at your best.

Now you felt faint, and you sighed and shook so hard that he could see it. Whatever reaction he’d expected, that hadn’t been it. Tallahassee’s grin faded, slowly replaced by something dark and hungry, his body held still in a way that suggested it took some considerable willpower for him to keep himself in check. But the uncertainty hadn’t left. He broke eye contact, just a moment too late to leave any doubt of what he’d been thinking, swallowed and brought his shield back up. You had pushed him as far as you dared. Whatever held him back was beyond you, especially now, and everything else was crashing.

Tallahassee dispelled the mood in the room with casual body language and all business attitude. He kept working, ignored your shallow, quick breathing and your fingernails digging into his shoulder for support and finished sewing after what felt like a life time.

The rest was easy. He cleaned the cut one last time, neatly covered it with squares of compress and lifted up your knee so he could wrap it all in a tight bandage. By now you shook uncontrollably, your limbs felt cold and your skin clammy and blocked. He drew you close to help you test your leg and you almost wished you hadn’t teased him so that he could hold you as a friend and think nothing of it. He’d held you before. His gruff manners now suggested he wouldn’t do that again.

You were so tired now, your head spun when you moved, the pain was hot and crawling, less urgent but more difficult to ignore. It had all gone wrong. Familiar voices drew near beyond the door and Tallahassee wouldn’t risk tenderness with an audience; he looked down at you with an impersonal, encouraging smile, took some of your weight and steadied you with his arm around you without it ever feeling as if he’d come any closer.

“In here,” he called out and helped you hop and shuffle your way towards freedom. Whatever this moment had been, it was over and when the door swung open and Columbus stretched out his arms to catch you, Tallahassee killed it for good by pressing the back of his hand to your forehead and looking grim and satisfied to find you had a temperature.

The light and noise past that left you delirious. By the time you reached the truck they’d parked right outside the shop’s front doors you’d cried yourself to sleep without a sound.

#tallahassee x reader #tallahassee imagines #zombieland: double tap #Zombieland #zombieland 2 #my fics #woody

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 5 (Tallahassee/Reader)

You had found a house. You’d found plenty of houses along the way, but this one looked especially promising with its two stories, a tall foundation that left the front door as the only entrance you’d need to guard, wide fields spreading out in every direction to lay bare anyone, dead or alive, who might try to sneak up on you. There were old tire marks in the soil running towards and away from the building, the latest set belonging to a car parked awkwardly against a wall with leaves and debris scattered on the roof - no one living was staying here.

Tallahassee tried to kick in the door and made a wonderful scene when it swung open without any effort, leaving him to land face first on the hallway carpet.

He looked so baffled and crestfallen when he got back to his feet that the three of you laughed at him even harder and he turned tail and ran on into the house until he found a door that hadn’t already been kicked in by some other survivor. You heard a crash, boots running across wooden floors, then another crash. Columbus and Little Rock entered after him and fanned out like a well practiced SWAT team to make sure Tallahassee’s display hadn’t awakened anything.

You carried in the bags, pushed the door back into its frame and secured it with the hallway cabinet and, gun at the ready, went to explore the next floor up. Those fools were making a lot of noise down there but you were sure by now that the house was empty. Thanks to their eager bad-ass antics, you had first choice of bedrooms.

Tallahassee came up the stairs once he’d gotten some of the smashing out of his system and he froze in the doorway to the master bedroom, his grin twisting into a mask of utter grief.

“No,” he breathed.

You were sprawled on the king-size bed, arms crossed behind your head, legs stretched out and luxuriating on the soft sheets. With a smile, you made the bed bounce and there wasn’t so much as a squeak of complaint from the springs. Three of you could have fit on the bed without brushing up against each other. “Oh yeah,” you purred. “This house was a great pick, Tallahassee - I can really see us making ourselves at home here.”

The other two finally caught on to what was happening and followed close behind. Little Rock elbowed Tallahassee aside and cursed at you. “Come on! I’m not sleeping on the floor again - Tallahassee, tell her.”

“Oh, wow,” came Columbus’ voice from somewhere down the hall, “this room is so nice! Hm, doilies.”

Little Rock bolted immediately and through the walls you could hear her flinging herself onto the bed in there and shouting “dibs!”

Tallahassee’s face was dark, and he glanced towards where your hand rested on your gun. “I could have you over my shoulder and out of here quicker’n you could get the safety off of that thing, missy.” He drew himself up with injured dignity and pressed a hand to his chest. “But I... am a gentleman. A gentleman with a sore neck and aching muscles and very long limbs.”

You raised your eyebrows and wondered if you could bring him back to the idea of lifting you up bodily. “Yes, that’s what we all call you behind your back. Gentleman.”

He shook his head. “You know, I give you kids everything I have and I get nothin’ but lip in return. I despair of your generation.”

Tallahassee did that a lot, drew attention to his own age and the gap between his and yours. He was welcome to fish for reassurance about his own all he wanted and you usually obliged, but lumping you in with the other two?  “Watch who you call a kid. Columbus makes me feel ancient by comparison.”

He looked at you oddly before he smiled. “Figure of speech, sweetheart.” Something made him pause, as if he was weighing up his options. Then he sighed with exaggerated melancholy. “Well... if you won’t take pity on me, I’d better find somewhere else to bunk up.” Tallahassee touched the brim of his hat to you and walked off with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder before you could gather up the nerve to point out the bed was wide enough to fit both of you. ----

In the end, there were enough bedrooms to go around and then some - this house had obviously belonged to a real old fashioned country family. No one wanted to speculate further than this in any real way, but Little Rock made fun of all the framed photographs she found and amused herself by throwing them out the window, trying to hit the roof of the old abandoned car. Maybe she was working through something.

The other survivor(s) hadn’t stayed here long enough to ruin much. Their footprints had stained some carpets and there were broken egg shells and empty packets of food clogging the kitchen sink, but all of that would have expired by now in any case and in the cabinets there were cans, spices and nonperishables galore. There was also a corpse in the sitting room, but it was the still sort, so you pulled on some long rubber gloves, grabbed the edges of the rug it was lying on and dragged it, half wrapped up like a perversely over-stuffed burrito, slowly out and down the front stairs.

There were a few offers of help, but you wanted to stay busy so you declined, found a bucket and some soap, opened all the windows wide and eventually with a lot of elbow grease and retching, got the worst of the stink and the goo out. Tallahassee kept himself busy and alone in the rest of the house doing something mysterious, Columbus and Little Rock split up to rest a while and came together in the kitchen to cook and after a good few hours of quiet, hard work you felt your stomach rumble as the smell of death was replaced by the (honestly speaking, only barely) preferable smell of food.

It was amazing how quickly the unacceptable became commonplace - if you couldn’t learn to build an appetite with maggots crawling on your hands, you would have starved a long time ago.

When it was all done, the four of you sat down exhausted on the porch to the first hot meal you’d had in ages. The table was covered by an old sheet, there were wild flowers in a jug of water, there were beers to drink and the already empty bottles held flickering candles that picked up some of the slack from the setting sun. Someone, perhaps all three of them, had obviously had a hankering for the domestic and right now it didn’t seem like the sort of thing that any of you wanted to mock.

Tallahassee had gone to work with hammer, nails and whatever wood he could find and had already boarded up most of the windows that could be reached on the first floor. Everything that could and should be done today had been done and there was as much stillness and safety now that there would ever be again. In short, this was exactly the time when at least one person would be gearing up for a breakdown. The silence around the table could be excused while everyone was still ravenous and busy shoving the weird combinations of pickles, spam, noodles and preserves into their mouths but it worried you when things slowed down and there was still no talking. Something had to be done.

“Anyone feel like they’re going nuts?”

Well, that made them sit up. Columbus coughed and Tallahassee froze, fork half way to his open mouth.

Little Rock sighed. “I mean, yeah. Obviously.”

“You ever gone proper camping, like strapped into a heavy rucksack?” You addressed the question to her since she’d made the mistake of replying first.

“Ew, no. I had better things to do than subject myself to ‘nature’.”

Tallahassee kicked her chair under the table and she jolted and gave him the finger.

“Well,” you pressed on. “My point is, when you take the pack off and sit down, that’s when you feel how tired you are. And it’s almost impossible to lift the thing back up again after.”

Silence descended again. No one looked like they disagreed with you or were in doubt of what you were getting at. After a moment, Tallahassee opened another bottle with his teeth, took a drink, belched and said, “that’s a fair point, princess, a good analogy.” There was no knowing whether he meant it or if he was being sarcastic.

“You’re saying we shouldn’t get comfortable here,” said Columbus. He hadn’t looked away from you since you started talking, which was rare for him.

“No... we’ve got plenty of supplies, this place looks safe enough and the propane tank is almost full. I think we need to rest. I’m just worried, if we’re not focusing on moving and surviving...”

“Well, my plan,” Tallahassee said and leaned back in his chair, “and you’re more’n welcome to join me, is to get absolutely, incoherently, pants-shittingly hammered. Ain’t nothing in this world can’t be solved by drinking.”

“Drinking what? Did you find liquor and just... hide it from the rest of us?”

He smiled and trailed his fingers lazily up and down the neck of his beer bottle, and you’d gotten completely off the subject but everyone was talking and ready to strangle Tallahassee, so for the moment at least the crisis was averted.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he drawled. “Bet you wish you’d given me the master bedroom now...”

“That’s such a great plan, Tallahassee,” said Little Rock, each word dripping with insincerity and with only lemonade in her glass. “And are you finally going to let me have some? I mean, I can find other ways to let off steam, if you think that’s better. I still say your hat could use some glitter... who knows what I’ll get up to while you’re passed out in a pool of your own vomit.”

Tallahassee drew himself up, puffed out his chest and held on tight to his hat. “I swear to God, you so much as touch this hat and I’ll show you what your own kidneys look like.”

“I’m practically 13! Give me a goddamn beer!”

“Actually, you’ve got almost another three months.” Columbus looked thoughtful. “Wow, I’d better start looking out for some toy stores...”

“Toy stores? Are you deaf? I’m a teenager.”

“Hah!” Tallahassee cackled. “Give me a break - you’re barely out of your diapers. Oughta get you some velcro shoes, I’m sick to death of watching you struggle with your laces.”

Little Rock turned her indignation back on Tallahassee and he welcomed it with open arms.

You’d never articulated this thought to yourself before, but he really did rile people up on purpose and you were beginning to see why. It might very well have started as a way to keep them at arm’s length, but he had another reason now - better they were angry at him than sad. Or numb. As the saying went: don’t mourn, organise against the idiot who hogs the booze and farts on your pillow ‘to remind you of home’. It wasn’t a very nice favour he was doing them but you couldn’t help feeling cheated that he never needled you the same way. It’d at least meant he was giving you some attention.

...Christ, you must be getting desperate indeed if that’s was the sort of attention you were willing to settle for.

“Tallahassee.” Columbus’ voice was soft but firm, and he glanced over at you. “Bring us your stash and pour Little Rock a very small drink.”

“Make me.”

“I don’t have to make you. You’re outnumbered. I favor a nice merlot, myself, but I will settle for whatever you’ve got.”

#Tallahassee #tallahassee x reader #tallahassee imagines #Zombieland #zombieland: double tap #woody #my fics

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 2 (Tallahassee/Reader)

Explicit (eventually) Set just about after Zombieland (2009) in an AU where you take Wichita’s place, in some ways more than others.

Tallahassee hated the way Columbus was always looking at you. Always glancing, staring, eyeing, looking and pretending not to look, ogling... When you two were together, Columbus played it cool, or at least what he thought was cool, and barely had the stones to make eye contact for more than a second. When you had your back turned or were otherwise engaged, Columbus saw his chance to just sit there like a drooling moron, staring at you as if the sun shone out of your backside.

And Tallahassee hated the way Columbus talked to you. He’d thought Columbus was a squeaky, jumpy little thing back when it was just the two of them but around you he couldn’t get two coherent words to stick together. It was all um-ing and ah-ing, stuttering, mumbling, clearing his throat, nervous laughter, changing his mind halfway through a comment and back pedalling awkwardly to say something else. And the constant, just constant agreeing with everything you said. All your favorites were his favorites. All your opinions were his opinions. Every word out of your mouth was the cleverest, funniest shit Columbus had ever heard. The only times it didn’t push Tallahassee just another few inches towards the edge of his limits were - and thankfully, this happened pretty often - when Columbus mistook your jokes for sincere statements and vice versa. Then it was Tallahassee’s turn to laugh.

The only thing worse than having to listen to Columbus talk to you was having to listen to Columbus talk about you. The boy did not know when to quit.

“She’s just so... smart. It’s like she gets me.” “Which shirt do you think is better, blue or plaid? ...she likes blue, right?” “I really sounded like a jerk back there, didn’t I. Do you think I sounded like a jerk? God, I was such a jerk. Why can’t I just learn to shut up.” I don’t know, kid - I’ve been asking myself the same question for a long time. “Does she ever... you know. Mention me?”

Tallahassee had pretended to hate Columbus ever since they first met. It didn’t do to let people get too close in this world, especially now, and the kid was probably so used to being mocked it wouldn’t hurt him much. Anything to stop him turning Tallahassee into some sort of father figure. But lately, acting like he hated his guts was less and less of a stretch.

The two of you, you and and Columbus, were young. He didn’t know how young you were because that’s not the sort of thing you ask a lady, and Columbus had the hunched frame of a geriatric and the common sense of a five year old and that balanced out to just about his age in years, which was definitely closer to yours than yours was to Tallahassee’s. He’d been no genius in school, but that kind of math was not beyond him.

Maybe Columbus had a certain charm. Maybe you were the type of woman who wanted to be treated like a princess - maybe the ass kissing, worshipping the ground you walked on approach would work for you. It’s not like beggars could be choosers. The two of you were young, and bored, and scared, and stuck together day in and day out. It was like high school all over again, including the bit were you thought you were the only two smart people in a crowd of smelly, evil, braindead shit heads with a pack mentality. Probably any day now you’d give in to the inevitable and start fucking like rabbits. The day that happened, the day Tallahassee had to walk in on that, well... that’s the day this little family fell apart, one way or another.

He knew he had no right to be so pissy about this. Oh, he knew it. He shouldn’t even be thinking about you that way and he’d done the best he could, he’d held out. Looked you square in the eye, not letting his gaze drift anywhere else except once or twice when you wouldn’t spot it - just out of curiosity, of course. Nothing wrong with a man admitting to himself that he knew what a beautiful woman looked like. But he’d been as respectful as he ever was with anyone, hadn’t flirted, hadn’t so much as tested the waters. Columbus had been in love from the moment you’d been introduced and Tallahassee hadn’t thought much of that, apart from being struck yet again by just how predictable some people were.

But then Tallahassee had pulled you in for a hug once after a particularly close call because he could see it was either that or watch you fall apart. You’d pressed yourself against him and he hadn’t even minded getting zombie blood all over his best jacket, he’d felt you shake, he’d felt your heart beating so hard and he’d made the mistake of holding you a moment too long.

You’d rested your head on his shoulder while you slept, with your hair tickling his neck and he’d been dumb enough to take a deep breath in. You’d joked and made him laugh, and Tallahassee had tried to return the favor over and over until he succeeded and he knew once was not enough, he had to hear that sound again.

You’d gone for a swim, you and the others had stripped down and run into a river and he’d elected to stand guard by the camp because he wouldn’t think about you that way and if he saw you in the water, droplets trickling down your belly, whatever clothes you still wore slowly soaking and sticking even closer to your skin, he would think of you that way. He’d reached down and ran his hand over the t-shirt you’d thrown on the grass and... Jesus, it had been such a long time. Just your scent on it and your warmth clinging to it had made him hard.

During that whole time, Columbus had gotten closer to you. He was always hovering around you and if you ever wanted or needed anything, he materialised at your side, ready to bend over backwards to please you. No need for Tallahassee to crowd you even more, even if he might have better ideas of how to set things right. One such great idea would be for Columbus to leave you the fuck alone every now and again - not so that he could swoop in in his stead, but so you could get a minute to think, breathe, work shit out in your own time. But Columbus never took his advice on anything. Of course that included how to behave around women.

Tallahassee heard the two of you whispering together sometimes when you thought he was asleep. Sometimes there was a giggle and he longed for ear plugs or maybe a shot to the head. It never lasted long, you went to bed soon after he did because Columbus, ever chivalrous, always elected to take the first watch.

Sometimes it was cold out. Sometimes you edged a little closer to Tallahassee and he would pull his own blankets to cover you, never saying a word.

After that happened the second time, he started sleeping with his boots on to make up for the cold. It was sensible, anyways. You never knew when you’d need to run for your life.

After that happened the fifth time, Columbus accidentally kicked Tallahassee’s cup of coffee into the fire the next morning, and Tallahassee made sure to be a little extra curt with you so no one would get the wrong idea.

No, he’d bowed out without ever getting into the fight. Because you were so much younger and this group was fraught enough and probably if he did fuck you the shine would come off and you’d be on his case, bitching about everything he did non stop, expecting him to turn into a different person. And, well... getting rejected by a woman didn’t sting much, but it was a little different when she might be the last woman on earth. And when her smile was that pretty. He was well out of it.

But he still hated how Columbus looked at you. It made his grip tighten on his rifle, it made his jaw work until his teeth ached, it made him reach for another drink and wish he’d never picked up either of you. It wasn’t helped by how whiny the kid had gotten and how Tallahassee had to find endless requests for moisturiser and kitchen towels on his shopping lists in that anal retentive writing, as if Tallahassee would believe he’d decided to develop a skin care routine and start helping out with the cooking.

It wasn’t helped by your look of surprise when he knocked on your door, on the days when you had a door, and stepped in to be greeted by an “oh! I thought you were Columbus”.

The four of you had been traveling together for a good few weeks now and it felt like years. Columbus still kept track of the dates so he could inform him exactly how long it’d been but Tallahassee had started hearing carnival music playing in his head whenever the kid opened his mouth these days.

The adults took turns driving and keeping an eye on Little Rock. You drove, raided houses and shops, found places to sleep on your way either indoors or out. You’d been going for so long, Tallahassee wasn’t sure any of you still remembered why you were heading where you were heading but it kept you all busy and that could only be a good thing. He definitely needed the distractions, because about a week ago the dreams had started.

The first time, Tallahassee was resting his feet on the dashboard and he could have sworn he’d only shut his eyes for a second. Then he was in a bar, back in the real world, with live music playing and you standing by his side, with your arm brushing against his... there was the usual dream bullshit with the setting changing moment to moment and weird people and old friends coming in and out, even the Showbiz Pizza bear made an appearance at one point.

But he remembered little of all that because eventually his subconscious threw his bone a bone and somehow he was on top of you in his bed back home. You were crying out his name, his real name, and he was tearing off your dress... you were pawing at his jeans, you were so eager, your breasts looked just like he’d pictured them (obviously - his mind had nothing else to work with) and he leaned in and kissed them, sucked on them, making you squeal and tense and shiver. You finally got his dick free and pulled him down and into you and he fucked you, held you down and fucked you deep and hard, giving you everything he’d got. That look on your pretty face, tensing and needy and shining with sweat was the most gorgeous thing he’d seen and in the heat of the moment he pressed his nose to your ear and told you just how badly he’d wanted you, what he’d do to keep you...

Then a bump in the road jolted him awake and the shock of going from that to this and his utter panic made him shout out. After the first reaction to this no one kept staring at him funny, so at least he hadn’t been talking in his sleep. All he could do was drop his hat into his lap, complain about his back and insist you spent the next night camping instead of driving. He would not risk falling asleep in the car again.

The next time was a few nights later and he woke up panting, sweating and with his dick as hard as iron, twitching and aching on his stomach. Like he was a fucking teenager again. Thank fuck he’d scored you all some camping gear and tents - it meant that at least this time he could sort himself out. Tallahassee didn’t care who heard his sleeping bag rustling, he slipped both hands in there, pulled off a sock and pictured you spread eagled on the hood of his truck, then pressed up against the wall in a shower, then face down in the dirt with his handprints on your ass... it did not take him long before he came so hard he thought he’d ruined his back for real this time.

After the third dream, Tallahassee stooped lower than he’d ever stooped before - he followed Columbus’ example by helping himself to a super value pack of wet wipes and just plain quit hiding the fact that he was sneaking off to jerk off. You made the mistake of teasing him for it once and he cut back with “you should try it sometime, sweet cheeks - might help you relax, might make you a bit less of a buzzkill.”

It took, at least for a while. You left him alone, grew a little more quiet, stopped reaching over him for the salt and directed your jokes at the others. Sometimes Tallahassee turned his head and could swear he caught you watching him with an expression he couldn’t read, but you looked away each time. He’d really thought it’d help if he spent less time with you so close but all it did was make him miss you bothering him and even more jealous of Columbus’ familiarity. Short of bailing altogether or by some miracle getting to have you, at least once, Tallahassee saw no way out of this. Something had to give.

#Tallahassee #tallahassee x reader #zombieland: double tap #Zombieland #zombieland 2 #my fics #woody

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 3 (Tallahassee/Reader)

Explicit (eventually) Set just about after Zombieland (2009) in an AU where you take Wichita’s place, in some ways more than others.

Your initial suspicion dissipated quicker than you’d expected, because they were, by and large, normal, or at the very least nice. By their constant mutual bickering and teasing, you’d thought they were related at first but no, they were a family only in the sense that all people were family once the chips were far enough down.

Tallahassee farted in the car and laughed as if he’d single handedly reinvented comedy. Columbus corrected people’s grammar, kept a diary and seemed uneasy in his own skin. Little Rock rolled her eyes at everyone and saw more than either of the other two. You felt for her - twelve had already been awful before the world ended.

Even though she was edging towards tween as if she couldn’t wait for more pimples, Little Rock was the easiest to get to know and get along with, especially if you didn’t lean into the big sister act too strongly. She was wonderfully relaxed and quickly sorted out your reading list, music taste and general knowledge with that absolute certainty that rarely survives past puberty. Not least, she gave some pretty good advice on marksmanship.

Columbus talked a lot, too. At first he mostly talked to the other two, undeterred by their annoyance, and portioned out attempts to get to know you into manageable chunks, a bit of movie trivia here, some small talk there. Whenever he found out you already knew something he knew, he was shocked and it would have been irritating if he hadn’t also been so utterly delighted. It seemed he was determined to like you, and it’s hard not to like someone who’s convinced you’re worth liking.

Tallahassee... Tallahassee had two moods - he was either gleefully coarse and jovial, violently happy and happy to be violent, or he brooded. And since you weren’t spoiled for choice, it didn’t take you long to notice that he looked good when he was happy. He had a mean, sleazy smile and his giddiness was infectious. His face was chiseled, oddly chiseled maybe, but still chiseled. His clothes were terrible and his hair was thinning but it didn’t bother you for long, if anything his sense of fashion was just another good reason to wish he’d strip down now and then and let his chest finish what his neck had started.

Tallahassee looked good brooding, too. His jaw jutted out even further, his eyebrows lowered and his clever eyes glowered at the world, sharp and quiet. He spread his legs out even wider to extend his personal space, gripped the wheel when he was driving until the veins running down his strong arms stood out thick and coiled like snakes. He’d snap at people then, so you soon stopped trying to get him out of his moods and just watched him and enjoyed the show. The longer you traveled with them, the more Tallahassee brooded and you wondered what was getting worse. Columbus hinted at a tragic past, and you agreed that you should find out the truth about it from the man himself or not at all.

Tallahassee liked a lot of things in life still, good music, good food, drink and weed, his dumb hat, being argumentative with everyone about everything and beating, shooting or hacking at anything that’d break apart loudly enough. Watching him go to work on a zombie with single minded passion, all fit and smug and eager, made you look at death in a whole new light. But unlike the other two, he was not eager to have you along. Little Rock and Columbus insisted to you that he started out that way with everyone. Then a few weeks went by and they stopped saying it, because Tallahassee didn’t seem to be getting any more comfortable.

Sometimes the two of you were alone together or the only ones still awake and you got on well, you teased him a little and he laughed and graciously let it pass, he asked you about yourself and listened carefully to your responses. He seemed willing to help when you needed it, wordlessly passed you pen and paper when he was preparing for another raid, didn’t stare daggers at you when you took a swig from one of his many bottles. Once he asked you to help keep him awake while he was driving the truck, and you woke up in the passenger seat at dawn with his jacket blanketing you and he only called you selfish and unreliable once or twice the next day. The jacket had smelled nice. It was a shame he took it back so soon.

All of this should have reassured you that Tallahassee at least accepted that you were a part of this now, but still he mocked you less than he mocked the others, surprised everyone by opting for bed instead of hogging the remote when you finally found a house with a generator and a working dvd player. He was uncomfortable and you guessed he missed the good old days when it’d only been the three of them. Maybe he simply hated women in every other setting than kitchens and bedrooms - there were plenty of men like that, after all, and he was definitely an old school, salt of the earth, working-with-his-hands type sexist who groaned whenever you admitted to liking anything feminine and left the laundry to you as if it was a matter of course. Combining water, detergent and dirty clothes was too complicated for him, apparently.

When you couldn’t stand it any more, you decided you would ask him about it. Once the time was right.

#tallahassee x reader #Tallahassee #Zombieland #zombieland: double tap #zombieland 2 #my fics #woody