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"Puppy Love" Chapter Fifteen: Zombaby! OR Snorting Powder

cw: mentions of depression, implied/referenced grooming, implied/referenced self-harm, childbirth, minor character death

chapter fifteen: 6.4k words

You and your friends were running down the streets of a city in Wisconsin, trying to get away from a pack of Z’s that had decided to show an interest in you. Serena had joined you, much to Murphy’s bitter dismay but eventual acceptance, and she was still heavily pregnant. Murphy and Cassandra were walking ahead of the rest of the group, not a single care in the world. Addy was helping Serena to run, pushing her gently forward and holding her hand tightly, and the rest of you were just trying to keep ahead of the zombie pack.

You turned a corner to a new street, and 10K read aloud a banner on the ground. “Wisconsin Cheese Day Parade?” You didn’t have time to stop and admire the floats that seemed relatively untouched since Day One. At least now you knew why all the zombies after you were dressed in various cheese-inspired parade attire.

Addy laughed and mimicked a Wisconsin accent when she said, “You betcha!” You chuckled under your heavy breathing and continued forward. Your feet pounded against the pavement as you tried to keep up with your group.

You passed Murphy and Cassandra, and as you did, Javier asked Murphy, “Hey, I thought you control these things?”

“Not that many,” Murphy said as he continued to fast-walk at a leisurely pace. “And not for you.” You scoffed as you passed him.

As you were running, you passed by a giant wheel of cheese—easily more than a dozen feet in circumference. “Woah, wait a minute. Is that cheese?” Doc asked. Addy and Serena stopped—not to look at cheese, but because Serena was puking.

“Real cheese?” you asked Doc as you came to an abrupt stop as well.

“No way,” 10K said. “The world’s biggest wheel of cheese?”

“Think it’s any good?” you asked. Doc shrugged and went to try it.

“It’s not real, Doc! Come on; we got to go! Puppies and kittens!” Warren reminded you.

“No, it is real!” Doc called after he carved off a hunk with his knife. You did the same and sniffed it. “Bon appétit, darling,” Doc said to you as the two of you clinked cheese shards. You cautiously watched him take a bite before taking one yourself. It was a well-aged cheddar that had somehow been completely untainted by years of apocalypse.

“Hey!” Javier said, getting your attention as you carved more cheese from the wheel. “Hey, come on. Let’s go; we got to move.”

“Hey, let’s go,” Warren repeated, ordering Addy and Serena this time.

“She’s not moving,” Addy said. You grimaced. Serena wasn’t doing great. It seemed like she was due any minute now, and you’d rather she didn’t go into labor in the middle of a cheese-themed parade, surrounded by zombies.

As you looked out at the horde of cheesily dressed zombies, your breath sped up slightly. Your mind was whirring to come up with a plan to get you all safely out of there, but Warren seemed to come up with one first. “Got an idea,” she said. She approached you and Doc near the cheese wheel and told you to get out of her way. “I need that cheese.”

“Oh, come on, Warren,” Doc whined. “Can’t a man eat a giant cheese wheel in peace?” You did as she told.

“No,” she said. “Remember Philly?”

“Oh no,” Doc said. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

“I am.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” Murphy said, shaking his head. Addy shot back the antonym as she rushed over to help Warren.

“Way to be my girl; thanks,” Warren told her.

“I got it!” Addy said. You walked over to 10K to watch the show. You offered him the second piece of cheese you had carved off the wheel, and he took it with a smile.

“What happened in Philly?” Javier asked.

“You’ll see,” 10K said before shoving cheese in his mouth. You watched Addy remove the wedge that was keeping the wheel in place. Then, she and Warren counted down before giving the wheel a big push. It started off rolling slowly, but the street was downhill, and it quickly gained momentum. It smashed into each Z in its path, either absorbing or crushing them. “How long you think it’ll go?” 10K asked.

“Could go a while,” Warren said. “I’m pretty sure it’s all downhill from here to the Mississippi.” You watched it roll, getting smaller and smaller the faster and faster it went into the distance. “Now,” she said, “it’s time to go. If anybody asks…”

“We were nowhere near Wisconsin,” you all—minus Serena, Cassandra, and Javier—said.

Back on the road again, Addy told Warren to pull over so that Serena could vomit. She obliged, and Addy once again helped Serena to expel her guts all over the side of the road.

As you waited, you and 10K played a game. “Okay, so what’s this called again?” he asked you.

“Twenty questions. It’s all in the name; we take turns asking each other twenty questions that the other has to answer. Usually if you want to pass on a question you have to take a shot, but we don’t have any booze, so…”

“We need to come up with another punishment,” he said, wriggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and giggled at him.

“Easy. You skip a question, I flick you.”

“You flick me?”

“Like this.” You used your thumb and your middle finger to flick 10K on the forehead.

“Ow!” he said as he rubbed at the spot you had hit. “Okay, fine, but only if I get to flick you too!” You laughed at him.

“It’s only fair,” you said as you poked his cheek. When he flinched and went to flick you in return, you pulled your hands back in surrender and said, “Not a flick! That was a poke. Completely different.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he said, but he smiled at you as he said it. “Who’s going first?” You nodded at him to indicate that he should start. “Okay, uh. What’s your…favorite color?” he asked.

“Pass,” you said. “Way too personal.” Before you could tell him you were joking, he leaned over and flicked you on the forehead. “Hey! I was gonna answer! Now you don’t get to know.” You crossed your arms against your chest in playful annoyance.

“I think I’ll live,” he said back, equally as teasing as you. “Your turn.”

“Hmm,” you said, tapping on your chin and pretending to think. You asked, “Favorite meal, pre-Z?”

He didn’t even have to think before answering. “Fish,” he said. “Fresh-caught and home-cooked. My pa taught me how.”

“To fish them or to cook them?” you asked. You already knew the answer to the first part of your question, but you wanted to hear more about his life before all this. “Yes,” was all he said. You chuckled and waited to hear all about how his pa taught him how to cook the fish he’d caught himself, but he didn’t elaborate. “Why do you hurt yourself?” The question hit you like a punch to the gut.

“What do you mean?” you stuttered. He repeated his question. “I already told you; I just get these feelings—” he cut you off.

“But why hurting yourself? Why not cry or talk or scream it out? Why does it have to be hurting yourself?” You’d never really thought of it like that before. Alternatives never really seemed to present themselves to you when you were in that foggy mental state. The pain was all you knew in those moments. Then, you remembered. You removed your jacket and button up until you were just in your tank top. You grabbed the meat of your non-dominant upper arm and showed him the scars. Next to the bullet wound, that had now fully healed and left a cool battle scar in its wake, were five, faded crescent shapes. He touched them softly.

“I guess,” you started, “I guess it has something to do with Luke.” You winced at his name coming out of your mouth and the reaction you were sure to get from 10K. You looked at him to see that same anger you’d seen whenever you brought up Luke before, but it was never pointed at you. His anger was pointed at Luke. You couldn’t blame him.

After Claire and Ajax had died, you fell into a deep depression. You never left the bedroom that you shared with the rest of the kids. Eventually, they stopped asking you to come play.

It was on one particularly bad depression day that Luke nearly knocked the door off its hinges as he was trying to get you to open the door and let him in. It wasn’t locked—you knew not to lock doors when he was around because he didn’t like it—but he banged on it anyway, wanting you to open it for him to prove that you were able to get out of bed. Once you had, he came in and grabbed you by the arm.

“You should answer when I call for you,” he said, eerily calm despite his iron grip on you. “I was worried about you.”

“I can’t do this anymore, Luke,” you’d said, not even trying to squirm out of his hold. “I’m tired.”

“Can’t do what anymore, cutie?” The nickname felt menacing, almost aggressive.

“Pretend! Pretend that everything’s okay! Pretend like you didn’t kill my best friend!” You regretted the words the second they came out of your mouth. “I didn’t mean that,” you stuttered. His grip around your arm changed, and you thought he was going to let you go, but instead his nails began to dig into the meat of your upper arm. “Ow! Luke, stop! You’re hurting me!” you yelled.

“I saved you,” he said. “Do you think anyone else would have saved you like that? And this is the thanks I get? That hurts me, cutie. And do you know what I do when something hurts? I make it real.” He rolled up his sleeve to show you the scars of cigarette burns covering his forearm. He then removed his hand from you, finally releasing you in a way that made you stumble backwards onto the ground. “Once I’ve made it real, it goes away. It heals. You need to let go,” he boomed. The cuts he had left in your arm were bleeding in little crescent shaped moons from where his fingernails had dug in. “That’ll heal. And with it, I expect this shit to heal as well,” he said, motioning towards your disheveled state from having been in bed for days. “And then you’ll thank me. Come on,” he said as he took your shaking hand and pulled you to your feet, “supper’s ready.”

“I guess that’s why I hurt myself. To heal. Saying it out loud, it sounds backwards as hell. Why did I…?” You looked at 10K, only to see him staring off into the distance. His hands were clenched into fists, and he looked to be almost vibrating with rage. “I’m okay now, T,” you tried to reassure him. “He’s gone, and I promise I won’t ever do it again. Will you help me keep that promise?” You took one of his hands in yours, hoping to distract him and calm him down. Ever so gently, you placed a finger under his chin and turned his face to you. You leaned in and rested your forehead against his. You could feel the muscles in his hand loosen and the furrow in his brow dissipate. He brought his free hand up to cup your face.

“Promise,” he said. He removed his other hand from yours and linked it with your pinkie before bringing his thumb to his mouth and kissing it. You did the same, and the only thing stopping your lips from touching his were a couple of hands in the way. You wanted desperately to rip your hand away and crash your lips into his. Unfortunately, someone had other plans.

A shot rang out and smashed through the windshield. You whipped your head around, and you and 10K ran to the van to use as cover, just as everyone else did the same. 10K hid behind the hood of the car, pointing his sniper rifle out and over it. “Got ‘em,” he said.

“What d’you see?” Warren asked as she cocked her pistol.

“Couple of guys in hunting caps. One seriously pissed off looking girl with…” he was interrupted as more shots were fired at him. “She’s got my same gun,” he said.

“Well, why’s she shooting at us?” Doc asked from the back.

“I dunno,” Javier said, “maybe it has something to do with this nice Zero ride we got. Can’t imagine our Mexican friends are too popular around here.” When 10K peeked his head over the hood again, he was shot at again.

Quickly, 10K shot back. “Winged one,” he said.

“Okay,” Warren said, “I’m thinking 10K and Addy, you guys lay down some cover fire.” She then motioned to herself, you, Doc, and Javier before saying, “And then we’ll flank them around—” she was cut off by the sound of more gunfire.

Serena, firing an automatic in the general direction of your attackers, was screaming, “You dirt-eating bastards! You filthy, goat-loving whores! There is a baby on board here! A mother-loving baby! I am going to rip off your arms and saw off your head!” The bullets ran out, and the gunfire abruptly ceased. It was quiet, and you all peeked over the hood of the SUV. Serena turned back around to you all and said, with a smile, “People are so rude.” You chuckled nervously at the strange woman. Try not to get on her bad side, you made a mental note.

“I think it’s time for a new vehicle,” Warren said. Agreeing with her, you all packed up your stuff and climbed up the hill that your attackers were firing from. Serena had killed each of them. You took their truck, and you sat in the bed with 10K, Cassandra, Addy, and Doc. It was just like old times. Except everything was shittier now.

Javier knew of a Mennonite community nearby, and Warren had found it. As you parked on the dirt roads leading up to their barns and were getting out of the truck, Addy said, “Well, we’ve seen Amish zombies, Mormon zombies; we get Mennonite zombies, we’ve got ourselves a trifecta.”

“Something must’ve happened here,” Javier said. “Barn didn’t look that way six months ago.” He pulled out a pair of binoculars and peered through them. “Wait a minute, there’s some livestock. That’s a good sign.” You hadn’t seen many animals since the radiation fallout, so you agreed that it must be good.

“Yeah, well, we’re not going in there blind,” Warren said. You nodded in agreement. “So, Vasquez, you take the north fence. 10K, you go south. Addy and I got overwatch. Be back in twenty.”

“Fine, I’ll just take a nap,” Doc said.

“Good idea,” you said, ready to do the same.

“Ah-ah,” Warren said, stopping you in your tracks. “I need you to watch them.” She threw a thumb over her shoulder, back to the truck, but you knew she mostly meant Murphy. You were mildly annoyed to be stuck on Murphy-watching duty while Doc napped, but you weren’t about to complain.

So, you spent the next twenty minutes listening to Serena’s giggles as she teased Murphy. He did not seem to be reciprocating, but she didn’t seem to care. Doc didn’t ever actually take that nap, and you weren’t in the mood for one anymore. You tried talking to Addy about Cassandra, but it was hard when she and Murphy were right there. Mostly, you sat in silence.

“Whatcha scratching there, darling?” Doc asked as he looked over your shoulder. You were carving into the wooden handle of your hammer using one of your knives. It was the hammer with Luke’s initials carved into it inside a heart. You had already scratched out the L.N. Now, you were carving a different initial on it. A small letter ‘T’.

“Nothing!” you said. You quickly covered the hammer, hiding it from his view. He held his hands up in surrender and gave you a small, knowing smile. Your face heated up. “Shut up,” you told him, though he hadn’t said a word. His smile widened at this, and he patted your shoulder.

You looked away, shy, when you heard a soft grunt from Cassandra. “We got 10K,” Addy said from her place perched on top of the truck. “Vasquez?”

“Not yet,” Warren said. You followed her as she jumped out of the truck bed. Walking up to 10K, you watched as Cassandra began to sniff him more than usual. “Well?” Warren asked him.

“Yeah, there’s still people here, but they ran away from me.”

“Well, it’s no wonder why,” you said in your usual teasing tone. “Did you sneak into their coke stash?” You were referring to the white powder that was covering his face and torso.

He looked at you quizzically. “I don’t think Mennonites are allowed to drink that stuff.” You laughed aloud at this, unable to hold it back.

“Zombies?” Doc asked, rolling his eyes and smirking at your banter.

“The usual,” 10K told him. “Oh, there’s also zombie sheep.”

“Zombie sheep?” Doc said. 10K nodded, and you giggled. “Why not?”

“What’s all that?” Warren asked, finally addressing the white powder all over him.

“Uh,” he looked at himself, “came out of a Z’s head when I killed it. I dunno; maybe powdered brains?” Doc and you both laughed at that, but Warren just sighed. “Wash that crap off,” she said. “Who knows what kind of zombie cooties are in there.” She handed him a rag, and he began to wipe himself clean. You helped him with it, making sure to avoid any contact with the powder.

As you wiped his face, you said to 10K, “Only you would get powdered zombie brains all over you.” You laughed at him as he scrunched up his face.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“You’ve got shit luck, T,” you told him. He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it.

“That’s just cuz I went alone. If you’d gone with me—” you cut him off.

“I’d be covered in this stuff too?” you said.

“Nah,” he replied. “You’re my lucky charm. This wouldn’t have happened at all.”

“Oh, my god,” you said as you playfully nudged his face with your fist, pretending to punch him only so that you could turn his face away from you. You didn’t want him to see how flustered that comment actually made you. He shot you a cheeky smile and looked at you out of the corner of his eye as his face was turned.

“Are we going in, or what?” Murphy asked. You groaned at the sound of the man’s voice which had become grating to your ears the more you disliked him. You finished wiping the powder off 10K and turned around to face the rest of the group.

“Yeah,” Warren snapped, “but carefully. Something about this doesn’t feel right.” She opened the driver’s side door and hopped in.

“Never stopped us before,” Addy said.

“I haven’t felt right since 1973,” Doc said.

Warren drove you farther along the dirt road until you were well and truly on Mennonite land. You parked in front of a quaint homestead. You all got out of the truck, and there came Javier. “What happened to you?” Warren asked him.

“A few Z’s. I found this.” He was holding something in his left hand.

“What is it?”

“Cured ham.” Javier tossed it to Doc. “Maybe mutton.”

“Damn, we could’ve made a killer ham and cheese sandwich if we kept more of that cheese wheel,” you said.

“No bread, darling,” Doc told you. You sighed, faux disappointed at your hypothetical falling apart.

Javier ignored the two of you. “And for you,” he said to Warren, “strawberry jam. Top five missed foods, right?” You had no idea when he had learned this about Warren, seeing as it was something you didn’t know about her, and you’d been traveling with her for over a year. The two of them seemed to be getting pretty cozy. Javier handed another jar of jam to Addy and one to you. You both thanked him, though you didn’t feel right taking food when people were still living here.

“Now you’re finding food? How are you always finding this stuff?” Warren asked him.

“Well, he found the key to my heart: smoked pig,” Doc said.

“Why don’t you have white powder on you?” Warren changed the subject. You had also been wondering, considering you didn’t exactly trust the guy.

“White powder?” he asked, oblivious. Warren indicated towards 10K, who still hadn’t completely been cleansed of the stuff, and Javier’s face fell like he had just been caught in a lie. Before anyone could say anything, more zombies emerged from the house. Addy whacked one upside the head with her Z-whacker, and white powder exploded from its head and instantly covered her. She coughed as she inhaled the stuff.

“Pull back!” Warren called. “Pull back; come on! Get out of there!” You did as she said, but the rest of your friends—as well as some Mennonites who joined them—continued to pike and slay the Z’s. More powder exploded from their heads, and 10K was covered once more. As was Doc.

Once all the zombies were dead, the only English-speaking Mennonite told you, “You English should not be here.”

“We’re not staying,” Warren interjected. “One of our people…she needs a place to have her baby.” All of the Mennonites looked shocked, and they eyed Serena. “Can I talk to a leader? An elder?”

“No, no. I am leader now,” the Mennonite man said. “All elders are dead. And it is not safe for you here.” You looked at him with a question crinkling your forehead. “The white powder,” he said, gesturing to 10K. “We have anthrax here.” Your eyes widened, and you looked at Addy, Doc, and 10K in horror.

“Alright, folks,” Warren said, “time to go. There’s no room at this inn. Sorry for your trouble.”

“Everyone has trouble these days.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Wait!” you said. The man and Warren turned to you. “Are they going to be okay?” Your question was answered when 10K collapsed to the ground. “T!” You, Doc, and Addy dropped to your knees beside him.

Doc felt 10K’s cheeks and said, “Oh, man, he’s burning up.”

“He has it,” the man said, “this disease.”

“We got to get him out of here,” Doc said.

“And take him where?”

“I don’t know. Someplace without anthrax, or anthrax zombies, or anthrax sheep,” Doc said.

“We can’t move him like this!” you said.

“What he needs is antibiotics. You got any of those?” Javier asked.

“Yeah, maybe.” Doc went to look in his bag. As he did, Serena’s water broke.

You had to take 10K to the shed where the Mennonites were keeping their sick. As he laid in bed, a woman came over and gave him a pill. “What’s she giving him?” Doc asked.

“Cipro,” the Mennonite man answered. “From the next farm over. They use it for the animals, but it will help.”

“Why’s she only giving him half a pill?”

“We must have enough for everyone.”

“Enough for everyone to recover?” Javier asked. The man’s silence answered for him, and you returned to 10K’s side with fresh fear sweating your palms. You stayed with 10K even as the rest of your group left to deal with Serena. You knew from a high school chemistry class that anthrax wasn’t contagious between people, so you held 10K’s hand while he slept. He needed the rest, but you couldn’t help but wish he was awake so that he could tell you that everything was fine. You stayed with him even as Addy and Javier left to try and find antibiotics in a nearby town. You helped a few of the women to take care of the sick, but you stayed by 10K’s side for the most part. You pushed his hair back from his sweat-soaked forehead. You wet a cloth and dabbed it against his face, carefully avoiding the sores that were quickly forming. A lot of the time, you just held his hand and prayed over his body. You had seen some of the Mennonite women doing it, and you thought that it couldn’t hurt to try.

While he was sleeping, you spoke to him. You figured you could tell him anything, and no one would know. He was out cold, none of your friends had stayed with you two, and none of the people in the sick shed spoke a lick of English. You found yourself rambling and unable to stop as emotion poured out of you.

“T, you’ve gotta get better. I know you can, okay? We’ve been through a hell of a lot worse than this, together.” You told yourself you weren’t going to cry; you were going to be strong, for him. But your voice warbled on the words when you said, “You can’t leave me.” You held his left hand in both of yours, and you let your lips graze the top of his knuckles. You chuckled dryly, holding back tears. “You can’t die before I tell you how I feel. You can’t die before I tell you that I—” you paused. You’d never put a word to your feelings for him. It scared you, the prospect of love. Was that what it was? You’d never been in love; you didn’t know how it was supposed to feel. “Before I tell you that I care about you. That I have feelings for you,” you stuttered out, voice a croaky whisper. It felt like a cop-out, but you weren’t about to confess love to an unconscious person.

A woman came over and broke the bubble of isolation that you had imagined around the two of you. She asked you something in her native tongue, but you didn’t understand. She motioned to 10K, and you nodded your head and got out of her way. She nudged him awake, but before she could give him another half dose of the Cipro, he leaned over and coughed up blood. You were back at his side in an instant, urging him to lay back down. The woman shoved the pill in your hand and ran out the door, likely to alert someone of 10K’s worsening condition.

“Come on, T,” you soothed. You rubbed his arm to keep his attention, but he was already falling back into unconsciousness. You gently grabbed his jaw and squeezed his cheeks in a way that allowed his lips to part. You pushed the pill into his mouth, finger lingering on his lips for just a second longer than it should have, and you brought the glass of water to his mouth. You forced him to swallow the pill down. “Be a good boy; that’s it,” you said as you coerced him. He groaned, and his face was red. You knew it was due to his sickness, but you wondered if it also had anything to do with what you had called him. You tucked that information away for later, ignoring the heat springing to your chest and cheeks.

As you continued to care for 10K, your attention was divided when Warren and Javier came into the sick shed with their guns drawn. The English-speaking Mennonite said, “I thought you might come,” with his hands in the air in surrender. “It is the medicine you want?” he asked, but it wasn’t really a question.

“It’s just,” Warren started, hesitantly clearing her throat, “we got to keep going.” As she said it, she mimicked the leader’s surrender with her hands in the air. She put her gun away. “Our team, we got to get to California. And our man, Murphy, he’s immune. There’s a lab,” she continued explaining. “To make a vaccine. Medicine. Medicine that will help a lot of people. Save a lot of people.” When the Mennonites said nothing in response, Warren and Javier—his gun still drawn—moved farther into the hut.

“We believe that peace is will of God,” the leader began to pray. “We follow the way of peace, justice, unity.” The rest of them continued to pray in German as Warren went through the medicine. “We practice not to resist. Even through violence. Even through war. Our suffering comes from resisting what is.” Javier approached you and helped you to get 10K to his feet. “God has called us to seek justice and to make peace.” You held 10K up on one side while Javier had the other. 10K was still completely out of it and unable to move on his own. “To love our enemies. And to never seek revenge.”

“I am sorry,” Warren said as the four of you left. “Forgive me.”

Outside of the sick shed, none of the Mennonites came after you. “I’d feel a whole lot better if they at least tried to kill us,” Javier said. He took 10K from you and lifted him into a fireman’s carry over his shoulders.

“Are we really going to leave them like that?” you asked, feeling wary about the whole situation but knowing that 10K needed the medicine. And you weren’t going to let him die.

“Only in a messed-up apocalypse was that the right thing to do,” Warren said.

You, Warren, and Javier brought 10K to the barn in which Serena was giving birth. Javier laid 10K down on a pile of hay next to Addy, who was now sporting similar sores. “Addy too?” you asked. Warren nodded as she began to dole out the Cipro to the two of them. All the while, Serena was screaming in pain in the background. You stayed with Addy and 10K as Warren and Javier left to help with the labor. “How are you feeling?” you asked Addy.

“Like shit,” she croaked out. You smiled sadly at her. You wished you could do something more to help.

“Drink some water,” you told her as you helped her sit up to take a drink. She did so gratefully.

“10K seems really out of it,” she said, her throat less dry.

You looked over her to see him lying there, conked out again. You nodded before wetting a cloth and placing it across Addy’s forehead. “He’s been like that for a while now. I’m glad you’re talking, at least.” As you said it, you looked back to her just as she passed out. “Damn,” you said to yourself. You stayed with them, feeling completely helpless as you sat by their sides.

Eventually, you heard your friends yelling before Serena screamed out that the baby was coming. You ran over to meet them, hoping to be of some assistance while Addy and 10K were unconscious, and you were met with a sight that would scar you for the rest of your days. You watched as a blue-tinted newborn pulled itself out of Serena.

Warren helped to fully remove the infant, and she handed the baby girl to her mother. Serena was given a blanket to swaddle the baby and a fresh cloth to wipe her of amniotic fluids. She and Murphy wore big smiles as Serena said, “Congratulations, daddy.”

“You did good, mommy,” Murphy told her. You smiled despite the gruesome scene you had just witnessed.

“Well, what is it?” Doc asked.

“It’s a girl,” Murphy answered, but you suspected that wasn’t what Doc meant.

“Oh, of course.”

“Uh, Doc,” Warren said, “what is the cleaver for?”

“Umbilical cord,” Doc assured. Before he could cut it or offer Murphy the honor, the baby gripped the cord in her two hands and bit through it with teeth that she should not have had. “Woah! I guess she’s got that covered.” You thought you might be sick, so you quickly excused yourself without drawing attention to the fact that you were so disturbed. You returned to 10K and Addy, only they were no longer alone.

A handful of Z’s had made their way into the barn, likely attracted by Serena’s screaming. You froze in place, your eyes dashing to meet Addy’s. She was awake and wide-eyed, nodding her head toward the pack of Z’s. You nodded back, indicating that you saw them. You had left your weapons by Addy and 10K, but you couldn’t approach without calling the attention of the zombies to you or them. The zombies didn’t seem interested in attacking, however. It seemed that they were watching the other half of your group as though they were interested in the baby. You looked back at Warren just as she spotted the zombies.

The baby let out a wail, and the passive Z’s turned aggressive. You were able to slip by them as they rounded on your friends. They were going after the baby, you thought. You grabbed your sash of knives and your hammers and got ready to pike any Z’s that came near your friends. Javier joined you and headshot a Z just as you smashed in another’s skull. You didn’t need to waste much more effort, though, as all the zombies crowded around Murphy because he was holding the baby. There were too many of them for you all to fight, but you heard as Serena let out a battle cry. That got their attention.

“Get away from my baby, you damn dirty zombies!” Serena screamed. She then began wailing on them. “Go! Go!” she yelled.

“Come on, let’s go! Come on!” Warren called. You pulled Addy to her feet while Javier got 10K. You and Javier got them out of there ahead of Doc, Warren, and Murphy. Based on the struggle you heard and the gunshot that followed, you were able to reason that Serena had sacrificed herself to save her baby.

You all had driven a couple of miles out from the Mennonite farm—to avoid both zombies and Mennonite judgement. You were just sitting in the bed of the truck on the side of the road, trying to figure out what to do next. Javier had decided on a plan and a destination, and Warren went to retrieve Murphy. He hadn’t said a word to anyone except his newborn daughter since you all had abandoned and mercied Serena.

10K was still out of it, but Addy nudged him anyway. “Alright, come on,” she whispered, coaxing him awake. You were sitting to his left, holding his hand in your lap and absent-mindedly stroking it with your thumb, and she was on his right. “Hey,” she said, and you turned your head to see that his eyes were open, though still out of it.

“Hey, kid,” Doc said, suddenly hopeful.

“There he is,” said Javier.

“Hey, T,” you whispered. He looked at you before looking around.

“Hey, where’s…did she have the baby?” he asked.

“Yeah, Murphy’s having a moment with her,” Doc informed.

“And speaking of babies…” Addy said. It was a weird segue, and you had no idea what it was going into. She grabbed something from out of her bag of stuff and handed it to him. “Present for you,” she said.

He took it with the hand you weren’t holding, and you read over his shoulder while he read aloud, “Billy Boy brand condoms?”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, embarrassed on his behalf.

“Girl’s are still out there,” Addy said, giving you a look that you hoped 10K didn’t notice. “You are not gonna die a virgin. I promise,” she said to 10K, but you could tell she was aiming it at you as well. You buried your face in your free hand to hide the blush that was probably sprawling across your cheeks. “But when it happens,” she said, and you felt her eyes on you again, “don’t be stupid.” You snuck a peek at 10K, but he was already looking at you out of the corner of his eye. He quickly turned his head and looked anywhere but at you. You watched as a blush blazoned across his cheeks and over his ears. Was he thinking the same thing you were?

“Yeah,” Javier said, knocking you out of your thoughts, “like that guy.” He nodded towards where Murphy and Warren were. “I mean, how did that happen anyway?” “Oh, man,” Doc said. “You gotta understand. There was pie.” He said it as though pie-eating was the sexiest foreplay. You let out a chuckle, but you were glad the conversation had drifted from the box of condoms you continued to eye in 10K’s hand.

“There was pie,” 10K nodded and mouthed. You caught yourself watching his lips again. They quirked up into a half smile, and your mouth fell slightly agape as he licked his lips. You quickly turned away.

Doc asked, “Did you at least get him the good kind?” You all looked at him, questioning what he meant. “You know, the pre-lubed, feel-good kind.” Back to the condoms, it seemed.

“Probably hard to find good lube in the apocalypse,” you offered with a shrug, trying to force yourself out of your sexually restrained shell and shake off the tingling feeling you felt after staring at 10K’s lips a moment too long.

“You’d be surprised,” Doc said.

“Do I want to know?” Addy asked. “Scratch that; I definitely don’t.” You laughed along with the rest of the group, but you sharply inhaled when you felt the slightest squeeze from 10K’s hand in yours. It was still in your lap, which was becoming increasingly warm and feeling more tingly, and you quickly pulled your interlocked hands away from your crotch. You set them on your knee as he looked at you with a cocked eyebrow. You shot him a nervous smile, and he leaned closer to you.

“Hand me my bag,” he whispered in your ear. You shivered at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin and did as you were told. He thanked you and called you by your first name; it was something he hadn’t done for months since the two of you started calling each other by your first initials. It sent your stomach flipping, and you shot him a small smile. He smiled back at you before looking away, almost shy. He took the bag from you and shoved the box of condoms inside. You wondered, with heat spreading across your face, if you would ever get to use them with him.

tag list: @kimperfect244 , @yougrew-upunacave , @rensswritess comment if you want to be added!

#fanfic #x reader #z nation #10k z nation #10k x reader #10k z nation x reader #fem reader #x fem!reader #no use of y/n #cross posted on ao3 #puppy love #Chapter Fifteen: Zombaby! OR Snorting Powder

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yumebambi-writes · 15 days ago

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"Puppy Love" Chapter Fourteen: Batch 47 OR A Zombie Cure?

cw: implied/referenced grooming, minor character death

chapter fourteen: 4.9k words

You and Operation Bite Mark arrived at the lab in Minneapolis that was supposedly working towards an herbal cure for zombie-ism. It had been a long ride sitting in the cramped space of what used to be a medical wagon. You were glad to be able to stretch your legs, once you got out. It was unfortunate that said medical wagon didn’t actually have any medical supplies. Your wound from where a bullet had grazed your non-dominant arm was healing nicely, but Doc could always use more antibiotics and gauze for his supply kit.

You and your group approached the fence surrounding the lab, and a man behind the gate asked, “You guys harvesters here for the cure?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Warren said.

“You’re armed,” he pointed out the obvious.

“Uh, yeah,” Addy said. You flashed your sash of throwing knives, just to further illustrate that fact.

“Good,” he said simply before opening the gate. You walked single file through. “Harvesters wait in the garage until you’re called,” he said. “The others will give you the rundown.” You thanked the man as he closed the gate behind you.

“You think Murphy’s here?” Addy asked in a hushed voice once you had all made it through.

“Yeah, he’s here,” Warren said. “I can smell him.”

“I think you’re smelling the Z weed,” Doc said before you could. You looked to the side to see dozens of packages of Z weed being loaded into the back of a van. Doc inhaled deeply, appreciating the scent. Suddenly, you all heard screams for help coming from a greenhouse. You looked at one another and rushed over.

When you made it to the woman yelling in fear, Javier shot the zombie that was grasping her by the foot and holding her down on the ground as she tried to crawl away from it. He shot it, but it didn’t go down, so while the rest of you attempted to free the woman, he took some kind of makeshift blade-axe and chopped into the Z’s head. Once you had gotten the woman free, you could now see what made this zombie so strange. It and the woman were covered in vines, but the zombie seemed to be connected to the vines as if they were growing out of it—or into it.

“Hey!” the man who had let you in called as he ran over with another guard, both wielding guns. “Told you people to move into the garage, where it’s safe.” “Safety first, huh?” Doc asked sarcastically as you helped get the woman to her feet.

“You got a problem?” the man asked as he got all up in Doc’s face. Doc looked as though he might come back with an affirmative, but he didn’t.

“No, no, brother. Just here for the cure.” Doc pushed past the man as you all made your way to the garage. You and 10K helped the limping woman.

In the garage, the two of you helped the woman down onto a mattress on the ground. On it was a sleeping little girl, who the woman seemed to know.

“You alright?” Warren asked the woman.

“Yeah, I think so,” she replied. Doc pulled a maxi pad out from his medical bag and used it to hold together the cut on the woman’s leg.

“Mama,” the little girl said as she came to consciousness.

“Hey, baby,” she said. “Hey. Mama’s here. I came back to you, just like I promised.” The sentiment stung you as you remembered the last words Luke had said to you.

You’d had enough. It had been two years since you arrived in Kansas, and Luke would barely let you leave the property. “I can’t watch out for you if you leave,” he’d say whenever you asked. No matter that he was constantly out foraging and scavenging with the hunting party. You were to stay at home with the other women and children. You hated it now that Claire and Ajax were gone. He was all you had.

It was another hunting day like any other. Luke was packing up to expand the searching grounds farther. They’d only ever made it a dozen miles out from the town just down the long, dirt road.

“Let me come with this time,” you’d said. “I can help!”

“Sorry, cutie,” he said. He rarely called you by your name. “You’ll just get in our way.” This pissed you off, but anytime you tried to fight him, he shot you down harder.

“But what if I—”

“No,” he said, cutting you off. “You’re gonna stay here, with the kids and the other females. This is a man’s job.” You hated it when he got all right-wing, Mr. Misogyny on you.

“That’s such bull, Luke,” you told him. “I’m better with a knife than half of those guys are with a gun! You know I am. What happens if you run into Z’s?”

“I’ll handle it, just like I always do. I haven’t let you down yet, have I?” He ruffled your hair before smoothing it back down and caressing your face. You closed your eyes against the touch. It wasn’t soothing, like he intended it to be. You didn’t remove his hand.

“I want to go. I want to help,” you said, more firm this time.

“No.” You opened your eyes and looked at him. His face was set in a hard expression, and you knew there would be no more fighting him on this. “I’ll be back. I promise,” he said as he turned and left.

You never saw him again.

You were snapped out of your memories by Addy nudging you. She looked at you with a question behind her eyes but dropped it when you just shook your head. She nodded for you to follow her, and you and 10K went with her to scout out the rest of the garage.

It didn’t take you long—it was a small space—and when you returned to Doc and Warren, they were still with the woman and her daughter. Addy sat with them, and you followed 10K as he went to stand by the open door of the garage.

“What do you think of this place?” you asked him as you leaned on the wall beside him. He was staring out the open door, and he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. “T? You in there?” you asked, softly poking him in the side of his head.

“Look,” was all he said. He nodded out the door and across the way to the lab. You moved from your spot and followed his gaze.

“What am I looking for?” you asked before you spotted it. “Oh, god. Cass.” Cassandra was crouching outside of the lab with two armed guards watching over her. She was wearing Wrecking Ball’s red jacket, and you tried not to think about what that meant. 10K whistled for Warren to come over. She and Javier approached, and you got out of their way.

“What’s up?” she asked you both.

“I think I know where Murphy is,” 10K said, pointing at Cassandra. Warren sighed deeply before saying her name.

“Kid’s right,” Javier said, “Murphy won’t be far. Must be in the greenhouse.”

“What’s he doing in there?” Warren asked no one in particular.

“What’s the plan?” you asked her.

“We’ll figure that out. Vasquez, with me,” Warren said, and the two of them returned to Doc to figure out what to do next. You and 10K stayed by the door, sneaking glances at Cassandra and trying not to get spotted.

“What’s he doing with her?” you asked, more to yourself.

“He’s using her. To do whatever he wants. That’s what he does. He uses people.”

“If his blood wasn’t so important, I don’t know what I’d do. He can’t just get away with this!” 10K looked back at you. You were fuming, and you knew he could tell. He put his hand on your shoulder, but it did little to calm you down. “When I see him, I’m gonna—wait, look!” you pointed out the door. 10K followed your finger to see Cassandra looking directly at the two of you. She stood there for a moment, just staring as you stared back. Before you could call out to her or make a move to approach, she stood and spun on her heel to head inside the lab. “Shit,” you said under your breath.

The two of you hurried over to the older members of Operation Bite Mark. “Cassandra just went into the lab. I think she saw us,” 10K admitted. She definitely saw you, and it was probably your fault for raising your voice, but 10K was covering for you.

“What do you want to do?” Javier asked Warren. “Wait for Murphy to come out and jump him?”

“No,” she responded, “I don’t like waiting. Bad things happen when you wait.”

“Well, we can take the guards hostage,” Javier suggested, “search the compound for him.”

“I like that,” Warren agreed. You had your reservations, though. “Doc and 10K, you guys create a diversion.”

“Or!” a voice said from behind you. “You could just walk up and say hello like civilized people.” It was Murphy, the blue devil himself.

Warren scoffed. “Hello my ass.”

A man in a white lab coat asked Murphy, “You know these folks?”

“Oh, we’ve covered a bit of ground together,” he answered.

“Yes, we have,” Doc said. “And, dude, seriously, I’m getting tired of chasing your bony ass all over the damn apocalypse.” You snorted in agreement. “What are we messing around for?” Javier asked, attempting to take control. “This man is our prisoner; we’re taking him to California.” Javier made a move to apprehend Murphy, but Warren quickly got in between the two of them and stopped Javier. Murphy just laughed.

“Chill out, Rambo,” he said. “That ain’t gonna happen.”

“Why not?” Javier challenged Murphy. Warren had to get between them once more before Cassandra used more aggressive means to protect Murphy.

“Because the whole trip to California won’t be necessary.” Warren turned towards Murphy, interest suddenly piqued. You were curious as to what he was going to say too. “There’s a cure for the zombie virus, right here, in that greenhouse. And all we have to do is go in there and get it.”

“Batch forty-seven is real,” the man in the lab coat said. “We just tested it. A Bonafide zombie miracle.”

Murphy looked pleased as he said, “Well, think about it! No more relying on me to save the human race. It’s a win-win, right?” You began to finger a throwing knife, ready to back up your threat of violence to the man as soon as Warren agreed.

“No,” she said instead, “that’s not our fight.”

“Please!” the woman you had saved from the greenhouse earlier said. “If there’s any hope…” Warren, softie that she was, gave in and agreed to try. Your grip on your knife loosened, but that didn’t stop you from shooting daggers at Murphy with your eyes.

“Your job is to return to Batch forty-seven,” the lab coat-clad man said, “and harvest the rest of the seedpods.”

Doc jumped in, “And not get killed, right? Is that—that’s part of the plan.”

“Well, it’s a secondary consideration, but sure.” You weren’t feeling confident in this plan. “I have protection for you,” the man said as he grabbed protective gear and tried to hand it out.

“That’s okay,” Warren declined his offer. “I’m gonna go like this,” she said, referring to her regular attire. “I need to be able to move to fight.”

“Yeah,” Doc agreed, “I like to be able to run from danger.” You turned to leave, also unwilling to weigh yourself down with protection that was really just old football gear.

“I wouldn’t take your guns,” the scientist said. “Bullets don’t kill plants. I would take these,” he said, motioning towards the table stocked with gardening tools.

“Alright, well,” Doc said, “I’ll take the garden weasel. Always wanted one of those.” He was handed the tool, and the rest of you began temporarily exchanging your firearms for gardening shears and hoes. You were more than happy to stick with your knives and hammers.

As soon as you were all loaded up, you prepared to make your way into the greenhouse. Javier, Addy, and Cassandra would be staying outside, to watch out for you. Warren told Murphy to lead you all, and he did so.

Inside, you waded through vines and foliage. The lighting was minimal, and you could hardly see ten feet in front of you. You gripped your hammers tight as you listened to the sounds of Z growls all around you.

“It’s like some kind of giant shop of horrors,” Doc called out from behind you. You shuddered.

You continued farther in. You weren’t sure what was waiting for you, but you knew you weren’t excited to find out. “Watch it!” Warren said, and 10K piked the Z with his slingshot. He called out a number, but the Z hadn’t gone down.

“Hey, you should be dead,” he said as he pulled back to aim once more. Murphy stopped him, saying that it wouldn’t work.

“They’re all interconnected by the vines. You can’t kill one without killing them all.”

“Then what the hell is the point of these?” you said, motioning to Doc’s garden weasel. Murphy ignored you and used his freaky Z mind control power to move the zombie out of your way. The four of you followed him after exchanging bewildered looks.

“There it is,” Murphy said as you approached Batch forty-seven. It was another plant zombie, hanging on the wall by its vines.

“Let’s do this and get the hell out of here,” Warren commanded. She said your name and Doc’s before saying, “You guys harvest the leaves. 10K, watch their backs. Murphy and I will get the seedpods.” You began to move, ready to follow her orders.

“Careful!” Murphy said, stopping you in your tracks. “Remember, these things have feelings.” You nodded as you began to pluck and stuff leaves into the bag you had been provided.

“Reminds me of my days back in Humboldt,” Doc said.

“Easy now,” Murphy warned. “You’re gonna wake him.” When Warren pulled a seedpod from the zombie source, it woke up. As Murphy tried to calm it down, you continued to collect, faster this time. The growls and snarls of nearby zombies increased as they began to surround you. “Quick!” Murphy called over his shoulder as he restrained the main Z with its vines. You gathered as much as you could, as fast as you could. “I can’t hold this for long!” The angry sounds of the Z increased tenfold as it continued to thrash against Murphy. “I’m losing it!” he said. He began to wail and scream with the exertion.

Warren slashed at one of the vines, and Murphy fell back from the Z due to the force of it. “Murphy!” she yelled as he ran back towards the zombie. She started to go after him, but a different Z stopped her. She turned back to face you all. “Okay, let’s go! Come on! Let’s go!” The four of you made a run for it out of the greenhouse, without Murphy.

As you finally found your way out of there, Addy came running up to you and pulled Warren aside. “What’s going on?” Warren asked her. “Where’s Vasquez? And Mur—” Addy coughed to cut her off. She looked to the left as a group of men with guns approached. Some of them—the visibly armed ones—wore skull masks pulled over their heads. They had seemingly seized control of the labs as was evident by the way they were pushing the scientist around. The leader of the skull-faced bandits, a man in a crisp suit, stopped in front of Warren. “Who are you?” she asked him.

“My name is Hector Alvarez. But my friends call me Escorpion,” he introduced himself. “I’m the Vice President in charge of sales for the Zero Cartel. How can I help you today?” He was cool, calm, and collected. It frightened you.

“Well, uh,” Warren began, “you can start by telling us what the hell is going on.”

“This?” he asked, nodding towards the scientist he had under gunpoint. “Just a little business between friends. I see you’ve been harvesting,” he said, looking to the bag Doc was holding. “Let me guess: Batch forty-seven?” Warren gave him a testy smirk, all but confirming it. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to give it to me.” Warren begrudgingly nodded towards you and Doc, telling you to give up what you had collected. You were more than happy to do so, worried that you’d be in some real trouble if you didn’t. The three of you handed over your bags. “I know what you are thinking,” the man called Escorpion continued. He told you horror stories about the old version of the Zero Cartel, stories you’d never heard before. “But that was then, and this is now. We are the new Zeros. The more user-friendly Zeros. Admittedly, the transition was not easy.”

“Yeah, well,” Warren said, “change is always hard.”

“You see, you know. But I digress. Where were we?” he asked. “Oh, yes. Batch forty-seven.” He turned his back on your group, but his guards did not relent. “So, this is the cure everyone is talking about, huh?” He seemed to have a test tube containing the first successful iteration of the cure. “Reminds me of the Crocodillo we used to sell back in the day.” You had no idea what he was talking about, but you weren’t about to interrupt to ask. “Step one: we need a fresh zombie.” One of Escorpion’s men took this as a cue to shoot the nearest civilian. Escorpion said something in Spanish to the man, who replied in Spanish. “Not that fresh, pendejo,” he said. They continued in Spanish as the man who was shot slowly began to bleed out. “I am very sorry about that,” Escorpion said. “Good help is hard to find these days.”

“I’ve only ever tested it on a zombie,” the lab scientist finally spoke up. “I have no idea what a safe or effective dose on a human is.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Escorpion said. “I’ve got a great idea.” He pulled something from his inner breast pocket. “The Power Vape 3000. Solar powered.” He seemed to be laughing. “The stuff you potheads come up with.” You watched as he dumped some of the powdered cure into the vape. “I can control the dose with this.”

“Well, it only takes a micro dose to stimulate the immune system,” the scientist said. “Any more than that could be fatal.”

“Says who?” Two of Escorpion’s men grabbed the scientist and held him still. He protested, but Escorpion plugged the vape into the scientist’s nose so that he was forced to inhale. “Say when,” he ordered. “Say when!” The scientist began to scream, but Escorpion just repeated himself.

“When!” Escorpion pulled the vape from his nose. “Oh,” the scientist said, sounding mellow. “Ha! Wow! I feel good.” You watched in wide-eyed terror.

“Good,” Escorpion said. “Bring in the zombie.” The man who had shot the now Z had captured it. “A bite from this zombie, and we’ll know for sure.” Unfortunately, as you looked to the scientist, he seemed to have already turned. “Really?” Escorpion asked. “Now what?” The thing was, you were pretty sure the scientist never actually died. Escorpion seemed to think the same thing. “What are you, some kind of living zombie? Yeah. The world needs that like a hole in the head.” He took out a golden pistol and shot the scientist in the head. Then, he turned around and shot the other Z. “So much for Batch forty-seven,” he said. “Grab the Z weed. Let’s get out of here, huh?”

Suddenly, one of Escorpion’s men pushed through your group, speaking Spanish and escorting a hooded man. “Who’s this?” Escorpion asked. When he removed the hood, you were shocked by what you saw. “Doctor Kurian?” he asked. It was the doctor from the lab in Colorado—the one who had falsely identified himself as Doctor Kurtz in order to get ahold of Murphy and his blood. You and your friends all looked at each other with wide, wary eyes.

“Hello, Hector,” Doctor Kurian said.

“What happened to your face?” Escorpion asked. It was horribly burnt on the right side, and his right ear was gone. “That looks like my mom’s chicharrones.

“It’s a long story,” the doctor growled.

“You can tell it to La Reina.” Escorpion nodded at one of his men, who promptly knocked Doctor Kurian over the head, rendering him unconscious. “Put him in the trunk, huh?” he commanded. “You two,” Escorpion said to two of his men, “you’re in charge now.” When they agreed, he continued, “Burn the greenhouse down with Batch forty-seven. We need to get back to our core mission.” Whatever that was, you hoped it would have nothing to do with you. You doubted it, though.

You watched Escorpion get into his large, black SUV while his men retrieved fuel tanks from the back. As they drove off, Warren turned to look at the rest of you. She clocked all your faces before asking, “Where the hell is Murphy?”

You didn’t want to go back into the greenhouse, especially considering it was about to be set on fire, but Warren seemed to think that was where Murphy had ran off to. You’d found Cassandra outside the entrance, so clearly, she thought he was in there too.

Inside the greenhouse, Warren cautiously led your group farther in. “Incoming!” she said before a figure ran past you. “Murphy! After him!” You turned and followed. He was headed back towards the entrance. As you approached, you heard him scream Warren’s name.

“Hurry! I can’t control it!” he said as you pushed vines out of your way. Murphy had his very own vines restricting him and pulling him back into the greenhouse. Warren grabbed his torso and pulled against the vines while you and Doc got to work sawing them.

“Will you hold still before I cut your foot off?” Doc asked. Suddenly, one of the plant Z’s—the one who had been at the center of Batch forty-seven—pushed its way through the door of vines blocking the entrance.

“I tried to save you!” Murphy cried.

“Dude,” Doc said, “it doesn’t care.”

“Get down!” you heard Javier say. 10K and Addy, who had been trying to fight off the Z, both ducked, and Javier shot at it. Murphy groaned in pain with each bullet punching through the zombie. Addy and 10K both attempted to pike the Z, but it was so strong that it threw them both off from its back. Javier ran in and stabbed it multiple times through its head, but it still wouldn’t go down. It threw Javier aside. You continued to hurriedly hack at the vines around Murphy’s squirming legs. Cassandra tried to disable the Z next, but it threw her back just as it had the others.

The Z was gaining on you. You knew, even with your back to it, because Warren yelled your name, saying, “Heads up!” You scrambled out of the way, giving up on the vines in favor of your own survival. Murphy just kept screaming as the plant zombie came closer and closer. “Keep pulling!” Warren said to 10K and Addy, who were pulling on the vines attached to the Z. They fed the vines through the spinning mechanism of a fan which began to pull the Z backwards towards it.

“No, don’t kill him!” Murphy yelled. “No, no, no!” he repeated as the Z was sliced up into exploding zombie-plant guts by the fan’s blades. He screamed once more in agony.

“Go, go, go!” Warren commanded as you, she, and Doc pulled Murphy to his feet. “Come on!”

As you ran out of the building housing the greenhouse, Doc told you and 10K to help Warren. You each supported one side of the blue man. “Addy, I need you,” Doc said, and he and she split from your group.

“Alright, I’ll meet you,” Warren promised. “I’ll meet you!”

When you got to a car, one of the SUVs Escorpion’s men arrived in, Warren opened the door and began to hotwire it. 10K pulled open a door to the back seat before helping you to get Murphy inside. Once you got him in, you and 10K hopped in the back. Cassandra jumped in with you to make room as Javier got in next to Murphy. Warren drove the car around to pick up Doc and Addy, and the former squeezed into the backseat beside Murphy while the latter got shotgun.

As you drove off, Doc said, “Well, that was fun.”

“You shouldn’t have killed him,” Murphy muttered.

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” Javier questioned. An uncomfortable silence fell over the backseat after that.

Murphy quickly fell asleep, unknowingly snuggling into Doc’s side. Cassandra, though in the back with you and 10K, was leaning over the back of Murphy’s seat and gently caressing the side of his face. It disgusted you to see her like this, but you had to remind yourself that it wasn’t really her.

It was hard, seeing her like that. It was even harder because despite your proximity in the cramped back of the SUV, she would flinch at any physical contact. When the car drove along a particularly bumpy road, your shoulders knocked against her, and she hissed softly each time. You tried reaching a comforting hand out to her, but she snapped her teeth threateningly. You exchanged exasperated looks with 10K. He leaned over to whisper in your ear, so as to not let her or the others overhear. He said, “Do you think there’s any Cassandra left in there?”

You whispered back to him, “Cassandra would have welcomed my touch. I miss her, T.” You buried your head into his chest, and he took your hand to rub soothing patterns against your palm. You could feel eyes on you, so you shifted your head and caught Cassandra staring. She was looking at your and 10K’s hands and back at you. She tilted her head and squinted her eyes. You almost felt as though there was some recognition there—like she knew she would have teased you about this had she been herself. You lifted your head to say something to her, but she snapped out of it and returned her attention to the passed-out Murphy. “Damn,” you muttered to yourself.

When Murphy startled himself awake, he was instantly complaining. “Why are we headed south? Shouldn’t we be going west?”

“Still too much fallout west,” Javier replied.

“We can turn west south of Missouri,” Warren said from behind the wheel. Which meant that you’d likely be headed back through Kansas at some point. The memory of your life there made you shudder. 10K took your hand in his and gave you a concerned look. He didn’t know much about your life there, so he couldn’t know why you were dreading even entering the state again. You hoped it wouldn’t ever come up, but you would probably have to tell him some day. Tell him about why you left and why you never wanted to go back to the farm you had called home. Warren’s voice brought you out of your far-off thoughts. “What the hell is some woman doing out here by herself?” she asked.

You craned your neck to look over the middle seats and out the windshield. Sure enough, a lone woman was walking down the dirt road, making her way towards you. “It can’t be,” you heard Addy whisper. “It’s Serena,” she said, louder.

“No way! Murphy, is that your pie girl?” Doc asked the blue man sitting beside him.

“Pie girl?” Javier repeated, confused.

“Pie girl,” 10K confirmed with a stupid smile on his face. You rolled your eyes and slugged him. “Ow!” he said as he rubbed his shoulder. You knew that he was thinking about the rustling of the tent and the implications of it.

“Drool a little more next time,” you teased.

“I was thinking about the pie!” he said defensively.

“Boy, is she pregnant!” Warren said as the vehicle began to slow in front of said pregnant woman.

“Pregnant?” Murphy asked incredulously.

“Yeah, like ten months pregnant!” Doc said. How was that possible? You had only left the Sisters of Mercy not too long ago. Maybe a couple of months at the most, but nowhere near long enough for a pregnancy to go to full term.

When the SUV rolled to a stop, Murphy asked Warren, “No, no. You’re not stopping for her, are you?” Addy just nodded that you were, and so you did. “No, drive!” Murphy demanded, repeatedly telling Warren to “go, go, go!”

Warren pushed Addy out of the vehicle, and the red head greeted her friend. They exchanged a hug and some words. Suddenly, Serena looked into the car and ran towards the side door. Javier rolled the window down, much to Murphy’s chagrin, and Serena asked, “Is that really you?” with a big smile on her face.

“Hey,” Murphy said, waving pathetically. Serena laughed and rubbed her belly.

“He’s here, BaBa,” she said. “Daddy’s here.” You all leaned to look out the window and at her stomach. As she lifted her shirt, you watched in horror as two hands pressed against the inside wall of Serena’s stomach, protruding out before the head launched itself against the lining.

Chapter Fifteen: Zombaby! OR Snorting Powder

tag list: @kimperfect244 , @yougrew-upunacave , @rensswritess comment if you want to be added!

#fanfic #x reader #z nation #10k z nation #10k x reader #10k z nation x reader #fem reader #x fem!reader #no use of y/n #cross posted on ao3 #puppy love #Chapter Fourteen: Batch 47 OR A Zombie Cure?

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yumebambi-writes · 16 days ago

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RAHHH THIS IS SO CUTE I'M EXPLODING thank you for your service

Movie Night

Summary: Charlie invites you over to show you his movie collection and prepare you for the next few topics of discussion for the film club. He finds himself to be a nervous wreck, desperate for your attention.

When Charlie had asked if you wanted to come over to watch a movie, he’d tried to do it in a way where he could play it off like a joke. He’d been a little worried that you’d say no or be weirded out, so he figured it would soften the blow if he could play it off as something less serious.

He watched you for weeks before even introducing himself to you, and when he did, it was with a racing heart and sweaty palms after he’d collected enough intel to know what to say to you.

You liked slasher movies.

He knew this only because he’d followed you home one night and spent several nights a week since then perched in a tree across the street with a good view of your bedroom window and had a pretty solid view of your TV most nights.

It was always the same few movies, over and over again, and he was struggling to understand why and how you didn’t get sick of the repetition.

At first, he thought that you just really liked your rotation of movies, but when he eventually got ballsy enough to actually venture into your bedroom after you’d left for school one morning and left the window cracked, he realized that they were the only movies you owned.

Your house was in the rougher part of town, and it wasn’t anything special. He hadn’t even thought to consider that you might not be able to afford any new movies until he was standing there looking at them.

He’d taken the time to rifle through your things, putting everything back carefully where he’d found it before pocketing a pair of panties from your hamper and leaving.

You’d be surprised how much you could learn about a person by invading their personal space without giving them a chance to clean up first.

Charlie had managed to convince you to join his Cinema club and was sure to make one of your films the topic of discussion for the day.

He knew that it would pique your interest and convince you to keep coming, and it did.

Every time you walked in and saw that the movie of the week was one of the very few that you had in your possession, your eyes lit up, and you eagerly partook in the discussion.

But Charlie quickly ran through your little rotation, and noticed the way your shoulders slumped or your cheeks warmed when you realized it was a movie you’d never seen, but wanted to, and couldn’t join in on the excited rambling.

So, he went out on a limb and asked if you wanted to come over that Friday night and watch the next few movies up for discussion, and you excitedly agreed.

He tried not to look too shocked by your eagerness or the genuine excitement in your eyes, but he was.

There was no hiding the way his eyes bugged when you scribbled your phone number down on a piece of paper and told him to text you his address before sighing contently and saying the words that would plague his thoughts relentlessly for the next three days.

“Perfect! It's a date.”

In preparation for the big night, Charlie scrubbed his house from top to bottom. He even dusted the baseboards and wiped down the insides of the kitchen cabinets as if you were ever going to look around inside them.

He made sure that the fridge was stocked with every kind of drink that he could think of and grabbed an armful of your favourite candies (which he only knew because he’d seen a bunch of wrappers in your nightstand when he’d been snooping).

He almost displayed them on the kitchen island, as if you were going on a real date at a movie theater, but decided that it was toeing the line on trying too hard.

By the time the doorbell rang, he was a nervous wreck.

Charlie ripped the door open so eagerly that it made you jump, eyes widening slightly in shock when you were suddenly face to face with him.

“Sorry.” He grimaced, stepping aside to let you in. “Old door, it sticks sometimes, and you’ve got to yank it.”

The lie fell from his lips easily, and you seemed to buy it.

You looked so cute in your yoga pants and crewneck that it made his chest hurt just to look at you.

“Don’t worry about it.” You gave him a warm smile and toed off your sneakers just inside the door, taking in the grand entryway with poorly concealed awe.

It was no secret that the Walkers were well off.

Most of the kids you went to school with were, save for the stragglers on your bus route that lived on the literal other side of the tracks like you did.

Knowing that walking in didn’t ease any of the nerves you had stepping into the pristine home.

It had to be ten times bigger than your own.

“Whoa.” You breathed, while Charlie wrung his hands out in front of him awkwardly. “Nice digs.”

Your choice of words eased his fidgeting a little, or at least enough to chuckle under his breath while leading you towards the living room.

“Thanks,” he bit back a grin. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure.” You leaned against the counter, watching him open the fridge.

“Holy shit.” You gasped when you saw the rows and rows of different drinks. “Is this fridge like, only for drinks?”

“Pretty much.” He shrugged far too casually, waving you over. “Take your pick, Doll. Anything you want.”

Both of you looked surprised by the pet name, but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it.

Your cheeks warmed slightly, but there was no hiding the ghost of a smile fighting its way onto your face as you reached for a can of Coke.

“So,” You cleared your throat, “What are we watching?”

“You can pick.” He led you over to a massive flatscreen TV in the next room and the seemingly endless shelves of movies surrounding it.

Your eyes were wide, darting over the shelves.

“It’s like a fucking Blockbuster in here!” You gasped, turning to look at him in disbelief.

“A Blockbuster?” he clutched his chest as if you’d stabbed him, “you wound me. There are no shitty movies in here, just a collection of the greatest movies of all time. Blockbuster could never curate such an archive.”

You giggled cutely and knocked your shoulder into his playfully.

It was the first time the two of you had ever touched.

“I thought we were gonna watch the next topic of discussion for film club.” You muttered, a little overwhelmed by the selection.

“That’s one of the perks of being the club president,” he nodded coolly, “I get to pick what movie we talk about, so take your pick.”

“There are so many.” your head cocked to the side cutely as you scanned the titles “How am I supposed to decide?”

“We can watch as many as you want.”

“What if I want to watch all of them?” You turned to look at him with a raised brow and a flirty little smile.

“Then we’ll watch all of them.” Charlie tried and failed to bite back a grin.

“Which one is your favourite?” You asked after another minute of being unable to decide.

“Personally, I’m a Stab series fanatic.” He nodded pensively. “But a lot of people think it’s played out.”

“Stab?” You frowned, eyes sweeping the shelves in search of the title.

They weren’t hard to find.

They had a shelf of their own with little figurines and what was essentially a shrine.

“These ones?” You nodded towards them.

“Wait,” Charlie squinted at you as if you’d just said something crazy. “Have you never seen any of the stab movies?”

“No-”

“Seriously?” His eyes just about bulged out of his head

You just shrugged.

“That won’t do.” He reached over you to carefully grab the first movie from the series. He was so close to you that he could smell your shampoo, and it made his head spin for a moment. “You’d better settle in, 'cause there’s seven of them, and I’m gonna need you to watch them all.”

“Seven?” You gasped softly, “There’s no way they’re all good if there are seven of them.”

“Please.” He held a hand out to stop you. “There will be no Stab slander in this house.”

You laughed at his attempt at being serious, and he couldn’t help but let his lips curl upwards as he got the movie set up.

By the time he was done, you’d curled up on the couch with your legs tucked under you, not quite at the end of it, but not quite in the middle either.

It felt like an invitation, but he was way too nervous to sit right next to you, so he left a good three feet of space between you and tried not to sit too stiffly.

The beginning credits rolled, and immediately, Charlie was fighting not to look over at you and stare.

Despite usually hating when people talked during movies, he rambled about the actors and set design while you hung onto every word.

You were a little too busy focusing on how cute he was when he was nervous to engage in conversation or ask him follow-up questions about his list of fun facts.

You’d been thrilled when he invited you over.

Charlie had always been so nice to you and went out of his way to make sure you felt included in his film club. You’d always found him cute and had been buzzing all day with excitement to spend the night watching movies with him, hoping that it one day would turn into more.

It took him a solid twenty minutes to realise that he’d been rambling like a madman, and when he did, his cheeks warmed as he looked over at you and met your gaze.

“Sorry,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Guess I’m a little nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” You asked as if you didn’t already know.

“You’re just-” he swallowed thickly “You’re really pretty and I’m just glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you invited me.” You told him, hoping that it helped ease his nerves at least a little, “I think you’re pretty too, Charlie Walker.”

Hearing his name fall from your lips never failed to make him shudder, but this time, it completely flustered him when paired with a compliment.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to come up with something to say, and was glad that you’d gone back to facing the TV so you didn’t have to see it.

You’d called him pretty.

That had to mean that his feelings were at least a little bit reciprocated, right?

Charlie sank into the couch cushions, feeling a little less nervous, with a little, goofy smile tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t focusing on the movie at all.

Instead, he was slowly inching towards you, scooting just the tiniest bit closer every few minutes until your pinkies were just barely touching between you.

Your fingers twitched and, for a second, he thought that you were about to pull away.

But you didn’t.

Your fingertips brushed up against his knuckles, almost absently, as if you didn’t even realize you were doing it. Like it was something you did every day.

It wasn’t until more than halfway through the first movie that Charlie mustered the courage to slide his hand into yours and lace your fingers together.

Neither of you dared to move until the end credits were rolling and Charlie had to get up to switch out the DVD for the sequel.

Begrudgingly, he gave your hand a light squeeze before letting go of it to stand.

His palm tingled until he was back on the couch next to you.

He sat closer this time, about where he had been previously, but was a little scared to just grab your hand, so he rested his on the cushion, palm facing upwards.

A clear invitation.

He felt like he could breathe again when you immediately reached for it and went back to holding his hand.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you smiled softly to yourself, wishing he were closer.

Eventually, he did end up getting closer, just as slowly as he’d been with reaching for your hand, but you didn’t mind.

It was nice to hang out with a guy and not feel like he was trying to drag you to his bedroom or take your top off. Charlie’s touch was entirely sweet and innocent. As if he’d be content just holding your hand forever.

His warmth neared your body until the sides of your thighs were flush against one another.

When you let go of his hand, he was scared that he’d taken things too far or that you were going to push him away. But then, he felt your head rest on his shoulder and was flooded by the smell of your perfume, too distracted that he didn’t even notice right away when your hand rejoined his.

His heart was pounding inside his chest, and he was hoping that you couldn’t somehow hear it through his arm.

His thoughts were racing.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Are we cuddling right now? Should I put my arm around her?

What if she’s just using me as a pillow?

Who am I kidding? I’d be her pillow any day.

God, she smells good.

Eventually, he managed to get himself together and tried to focus on the movie, only to start rambling again minutes later, this time about what they’d used as fake blood in each of the movies.

You listened so intently that he started to think that maybe you didn’t care that he was ruining the movie by talking the whole way through it.

Whenever you looked at him, you kept your chin resting on his arm and looked genuinely interested in what he had to say.

By the time Stab 4 was halfway through, he’d managed to put an arm around you by using the oldest trick in the book, the fake yawn.

You’d laughed and muttered something about him being cute before curling into him, and he thought for a second that he might die.

It was getting late, and you didn’t seem to be in any rush to go home, so Charlie just kept putting in the next movie until the end credits of Stab 7 were rolling.

“So, what did you think-” He started, but paused when he looked down at you and found you fast asleep.

His heart flipped inside his chest as warmth spread through him.

You fell asleep on him.

In his arms.

Felt safe enough to be in your most vulnerable state.

With him.

He took a few minutes to appreciate the weight of your body slumped against his and the soft sound of your breathing, warm and peaceful through his shirt.

Instead of waking you up, Charlie pulled you closer and shut his own eyes, not in the least bit worried about his neck hurting in the morning.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#Charlie Walker #Charlie Walker x reader #Scream 4 #not my writing #lucydixon #Fluff

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yumebambi-writes · 22 days ago

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"Puppy Love" Chapter Thirteen: Zombie Road OR Gone Truckin’

cw: implied/referenced grooming, mention of alcohol abuse, minor character death

chapter thirteen: 5.4k words

You had been walking for miles in the Middle of Nowhere, Wyoming with what was left of Operation Bite Mark. You’d had to dump your van about a dozen miles back. Murphy was your prisoner, and he was not happy about it.

“We are going the wrong direction,” he said. “Again.” You rolled your eyes at the man, but he didn’t see you as he was walking ahead of you.

“You left us no choice,” Warren said. “Too much fallout in the West.

“Again: that was not my fault,” Murphy insisted. You snorted sarcastically.

“Murphy, don’t make me have to explain the term ‘failsafe doomsday weapon’ again. Please,” Doc verbalized what you were thinking.

“How do you even know California’s still there?”

“You’re looking ripe. You better hope it’s still there,” the bounty hunter who introduced himself as Javier Vasquez said. “Move,” he said as he pushed Murphy forward. Murphy turned to the other man, shooting him a look of bewilderment.

“You are not the boss of me,” Murphy said. “She is,” he said, nodding to Warren. Before Javier could escalate the situation, Warren stepped in.

“I can handle this.” She pushed Murphy the same way Javier had. “Move,” she said, in a nicer tone. Murphy complied. “You’ll get used to him,” Warren said.

“Unfortunately,” you mumbled. The eight of you—Warren, Javier, Murphy, Doc, Addy, Cassandra, 10K, and yourself—got a move on.

Not long after, your group climbed a hill overlooking a road. Warren borrowed 10K’s scope and saw something on the road. You stood to her right while 10K was on her left. You squinted out towards the road, cupping your hands around your eyes in mock-binocular fashion. “T, give me your goggles,” you asked him. He looked at you funny but handed them over. You placed them over your face, re-cupped your hands in binocular fashion, and peered out. “Nope, that didn’t work,” you decided. You pushed them up onto your forehead, and 10K tried to grab them back. You skirted out of his reach, with a teasing smile, and he gave up and rolled his eyes at you.

10K spoke up, asking, “What are we gonna do about her?” You didn’t need to look at him to know he was talking about Cassandra.

“Cassandra?” Warren asked as she looked over her shoulder. You followed her gaze to see Cassandra perching over Murphy, rubbing his shoulders and giving him a massage.

“She’s not Cassandra. Not anymore,” 10K said. You pushed down the urge to cry, knowing that the Cass you knew would have rather died than become whatever it was she now was.

“Maybe there’s a way back for her,” Warren said, “when we get to California.”

“Don’t get my hopes up, Warren. That’s just cruel,” you said, removing the goggles, giving them back to 10K, and walking away to stand near Doc.

“What’s up, darling?” he asked you. You just shook your head. He hugged you to his side, and you winced as he accidentally squeezed your bullet wound. 10K had wrapped it up for you, but it was still sore. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to need stitches. You weren’t sure you would have trusted Doc to stitch you up. The two of you and Addy rejoined Warren and 10K overlooking the hill. A monster semi-truck, decked out with all sorts of expansions and upgrades, was driving down the road. “Is that some kind of post-apocalyptic wagon train?” Doc asked.

“Well, it ain’t the 3:10 to Yuma,” Warren remarked sarcastically. You watched as they approached a flaming vehicle that you assumed to be abandoned. However, as they got closer, gunfire suddenly showered down on the truck and the cars that were following it. The truck veered to the left, off road, in order to avoid the bullets that ricocheted off the front of it. The truck stopped, and Warren said, “Don’t get out the truck.”

“It’s gonna be a slaughter,” Addy said. They were some of the first words she had said since you left Cheyenne.

“Can’t expect to travel through a valley without an ambush,” Murphy spoke up. “Didn’t nobody ever watch westerns growing up?” You ignored him and turned back to watch the road.

A man on a four-wheeler was coming up behind the truckers, meaning to surround them. The group of people from the truck, who had left the safety of their vehicles and were out in the open, began to return fire. Some of their men went down, and you felt the urge to help them. Eventually, the truckers fell back.

“Looks like they’re holding off, for now,” Doc said.

Warren chuckled. “Not bad, for a bunch of sitting ducks.”

“Well, you think we should—I don’t know—help them?” Doc asked. You nodded, but Javier came over and pushed 10K’s rifle away from Warren so that she could no longer see out the scope.

“Think less like a missionary and more like a mercenary. Let’s wait and steal the vehicles from the victor.”

“You’ve been here all of three hours, dude,” you said, frowning at him. He shot you a menacing look, but you didn’t back down. “Last I heard, Warren was in charge.”

“We may not be able to save the world,” Warren said, quieting you and ripping the rifle from his grasp, “but maybe we can save them.” He rolled his eyes but didn’t fight her. “10K and Vasquez, that way. Addy and,” she said your name, “you’re with me. Doc, you watch him and her,” she said, pointing a thumb towards Murphy and Cassandra. You all filed out, ready to follow Warren wherever she led you. You felt vindicated as Javier begrudgingly turned and went after 10K, shooting you one last stink eye as he went.

You, Addy, and Warren approached the truck and its inhabitants. Warren told them you were here to help, and the three of you hid to wait for the attackers to come over. One did, and Addy smacked him with her Z-whacker. “Good luck where you’re going,” Warren said as she shot him in the head.

You walked around the side of one vehicle’s trailer, only to find a handful of sick survivors in the bed. Radiation poisoning, it looked like. “I’ll get this,” Addy said. You and Warren nodded and left her to deal with them. The two of you approached the tractor of the semi-truck.

“On your toes, people,” the leader of the truckers said. “They’ll be back!” Javier joined you and Warren. It seemed that he and 10K had taken out or drove off the rest of the bandits. “Sam Custer,” the man introduced himself, holding his hand out to Warren to shake. She did so and introduced herself. “Your timing is what we might call fortuitous.”

“Sometimes things work out,” she said. You could tell you weren’t needed for the coming conversations, so you tapped Warren on the arm and nodded, indicating that you were going. She nodded back to you, patting your hand. You ignored Javier as you walked away.

Walking around the truck, you found Doc and 10K. Doc had been given a can of some sort of food and was eating it straight from the can with his fingers. Before you approached, you watched as a woman came over to offer them both water. She smiled at 10K in what looked like a flirtatious way to you. 10K just nodded and accepted the offered water, and she walked on, her smile dropping into a disappointed frown. You wondered why 10K hadn’t smiled back at her. A year ago, he would have, just like he did with that Brittany girl in Kansas. Back then, he was awe-stricken by any feminine attention poured his way. Still thinking about it, you walked up to the two men and sat down next to 10K. You poked him in the side as you did so, and he started, surprised to see you.

“Oh, hey!” he said as a slight pink tint bloomed on his cheeks. “I was just—” Doc cut him off.

“You’re a hero, kid!” He looked to Doc with a look in his eye that you couldn’t name.

Before you could ask about why 10K was a hero, some guy in a Hawaiian shirt and red jacket walked over. “You know,” he said to Doc, “you can have soup.” He pointed to the can in Doc’s hands. “You know, just add water.”

“Cream of ‘shrooms, dude. Water just dilutes the flavor.” You fake gagged at that, and 10K smirked at you, all sense of anxiety seemingly lessened. He leaned into your side.

“You sure you don’t want some? Either of you?” the man asked you two.

“I had minestrone loaf for breakfast,” 10K joked. You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed your shoulder into his. He shot you a smile, and there went the butterflies. Your face heated up, and you had to look away from him when he tilted his head in a question as though he noticed the blood rushing to your cheeks. You hoped that wasn’t the case. The two of you turned your attention to the man as he sat beside Murphy, who instantly told him to go away.

“So, darling,” Doc said to you, “what do you make of this set-up?” You turned back to him, and he and 10K were looking at you expectantly.

“It’s cool, I guess. But did you guys see? They have a whole wagon full of sick. I think we should just take whatever food they’re willing to share and get the hell out of here. I don’t know if I could handle more people right now. Javier’s enough as it is.”

“You got that right,” Doc said, nodding. “What’s his deal?”

“Men like that scare me.” You turned your head and looked into the distance, but you could feel as both of their gazes watched you intently.

“Luke?” 10K asked.

“He was a military man. Very tough, all business. But he had different sides to him—softer sides. The softness wasn’t exactly better.” You trailed off, still wary about your feelings regarding Luke and your relationship to him. 10K put his hand on your thigh, but when you jumped, he automatically removed it. You took a deep, relieved breath when you realized that it was a safe touch that you welcomed. You took his hand instead, holding it with both of yours and keeping it in your lap. You leaned over and laid your head on his shoulder.

“Who’s this Luke guy?” Doc asked as he slurped cream of mushroom off his fingers. “Wait, is that the man that showed you that porno?” You choked on saliva as the question startled you. You felt 10K’s head whip in your direction, and his eyes nearly bore a hole through your skull.

“What?” he asked, shocked. “What’s he talking about?” he said with some kind of gruffness in his voice.

“Say it a little louder next time, Doc,” you said. “It’s nothing.” You looked up into 10K’s eyes from your head’s spot on his shoulder. “He just happened to find a video store one day, and there happened to be an adult section and working video player. So, he brought it back and popped it in and showed me.”

“Why would he do that?” 10K asked.

“He thought it would be funny. Said my reactions were cute,” you mumbled that last part. How had you not seen before how weird that was? A grown man—who you’d only known for a couple of months at that point—showing a still teenage girl porn? Not okay. You wouldn’t have stood for it if someone did the same thing to Claire, the girl who had become like a sister to you when you stayed in Kansas for a few years during Black Summer.

“If I ever meet this guy…” 10K growled. Your eyes widened as you lifted your head from his shoulder. You could feel his hand shaking in your lap. You’d never seen him like this before.

“I’m okay, T,” you told him. “He’s long gone.” You stared into 10K’s big eyes, and he stared back into yours. It seemed to soothe him a bit, and it soothed you even more so. You were happy to have someone like 10K in your life, even if it was just as friends, though you wanted something more.

“What a weirdo. Sorry, darling,” Doc said, rubbing his neck and looking away.

Eventually, it was time to head out. You and 10K were sitting in the makeshift crow’s nest on the body of the semi-truck. Murphy and Doc were getting high in a car with the red-jacketed man—Wrecking Ball, you’d heard him referred to as—from earlier. You could smell the weed from where you were sitting. “Have you ever smoked weed?” you asked 10K, out of the blue. He looked at you with an amused smirk.

“No. I’d never even smoked a cigarette or had a drink until all this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the apocalypse. “Ma wouldn’t have liked it. You?”

“I drank some. Not a whole lot because I rarely went to any parties, but I’d sneak some here and there. But once the first Z’s started turning, I got into some stuff.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was in a supermarket on day one,” you told him. “Was stranded there for months. Eventually, other customers left, but I stayed because of the huge supply of food, right? Got lonely. The wines were my favorite, but I liked to mix rum and cokes sometimes, when I was feeling extra doomed. It was nice, you know? To have something to take me away from all this shit. But one day, I got drunk. Like could barely get off my ass type of drunk. A Z found its way in, and I almost died. I try not to drink much after that.”

“What about the country club?” he asked.

“That stuff was good. Would’ve been rude not to drink it. Paid the price for that though, didn’t I?”

“What about Kansas? The shooting competition.” You paused, remembering.

“That was only one drink! I was…upset. You weren’t talking to me, remember?” you told him.

“I drove you to drink? Break your sobriety?” He looked genuinely distraught at the thought.

“No!” you giggled slightly, at which he frowned. “It was just one drink! I wasn’t exactly ‘sober’ either because I wasn’t exactly addicted.” He lightened up a bit at this, but the next thing you said deflated him even more so. “You know, Luke was an addict. Didn’t have much opportunity to drink, though, so he was mostly sober. But his friend, Jeff, started making moonshine one day. I didn’t like Luke when he drank.” You thought about the way he would yell and throw things, the way he would touch you. You snapped out of it, shaking your head. You hadn’t meant to darken the mood twice in one day, three times if you counted your outburst about Cassandra earlier. “Shit, sorry,” you said as you wiped at your eyes. You were surprised to find that there were no tears there. “Huh.” You turned to him, and he was looking at you. “You’re just really easy to talk to, T. Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being there.” You hesitated. “For being my friend.” You could’ve sworn you saw the smallest glint of disappointment in his eyes. Did he not want to be your friend? No, surely, he would have said something. He leaned in closer to you, and your eyes widened. He looked serious as though he was about to confess something, but the sound of the man in the tractor, telling you to roll out, distracted him. He shook his head, and that was that.

Driving along down, you were greeted by the gruesome sight of bodies littering the sides of the road. Their faces were completely ripped off, exposing the bloody skulls underneath. Warren asked the truck driver about them, and he informed her of a new mutation of zombies that they called blasters. She relayed the information to you, telling you that they had been killed or changed by the nuclear blasts. You kept a sharper eye out for them.

Javier was the first to spot one. “Warren, blasters!” he called out as he lifted his gun. She lifted her own gun.

“Where?” she asked. “Where?” You looked out, but you couldn’t see anything. They couldn’t either, anymore.

“I’m glad I’m not on foot,” Javier remarked. It was the first thing he’d said that you agreed with. Then, there it was. The blaster made an appearance, and Warren and Javier wasted multiple bullets shooting at it. Not one bullet knocked it down, and it crab-walked away. Weird, you thought as a shiver ran down your spine.

10K spotted another one farther down the road—or was it the same one? He shot at it with his sniper rifle and missed. Those things were fast. He shot twice more, the second shot taking it down. You hollered in celebration, and he looked back at you with a smile.

“Three thousand ninety eight,” you both said in unison.

“You’re one hell of a shot,” a female voice shouted to him. You stood up from your seated position in the crow’s nest to look at who had complimented 10K. She was probably the prettiest girl you’d seen in all the apocalypse, with her painted face and flowing dress. 10K just nodded at her but didn’t say anything. He sat back down, and you turned and did the same.

“She was pretty,” you said, fishing to see what he thought. He shrugged. “I think she likes you,” you teased, toeing him with your boot from across the nest. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Not interested,” was all he said.

“And why’s that?” you asked, genuinely curious as to why he wouldn’t be interested in a pretty girl that liked him.

“Not my type,” he said. As he said it, he eyed you up and down and licked his lips. It was an involuntary tic of his, but it seemed especially intentional this time. Before you could ask him what was his type, two more bandits on bikes rode by. 10K fired at them, but they were driving too fast and shooting all the way, so he couldn’t knock either one down.

Warren went to the tractor and spoke to the driver, and the truck sped up. The sudden change in speed lurched you forward, and you fell into 10K’s lap. “Sorry!” you said as you scrambled up. He steadied you and went back to firing out of your shared crow’s nest. You watched as Warren headshot one of the bandits. More gunfire came from somewhere you couldn’t see, and Warren asked where they were coming from. You ducked down into the bottom of the nest as 10K, Warren, and Javier continued shooting.

You peeked over the edge and noticed that the rest of your herd, including Doc, Addy, Murphy, Cassandra, two cars, and a truck full of sick, had all fallen back. “10K!” you called. “Doc!” You pointed, and 10K looked through his scope. It seemed two four-wheelers of bandits had taken control of one of the cars—the one Doc was riding in.

“Take cover!” 10K yelled out. The pretty girl in the vehicle behind you didn’t listen. She shot at the bandits as they passed, but one shot back and hit her square in the forehead.

“Oh, shit!” you yelled as you ducked back down, covering your head with your arms. 10K continued shooting. You felt the truck speed up, and you held on tight. Then, just as fast as it had started speeding, the truck came to a rolling stop. As it did so, 10K pulled you to your feet, and the two of you looked at the dead body of the pretty girl. “Goddamn it,” you muttered, upset at the loss of life.

You watched as two men pulled her corpse from off the top of the vehicle. They wrapped her up and carried her off the road and into the field. 10K stayed in the nest as a sniper, even though the bandits were long gone, but you climbed down. You felt wrong just standing around, so you went to help with the burial. You used your hammers to make a wooden cross out of two pieces of plywood. You used a throwing knife to carve her name into it—ATHENA. It was about as good of a grave marker as you could get. While her grave was being dug, you picked some dandelion weeds to use as a flower bouquet. You placed them in her hands, already growing cold. You stood by as they buried her, but you left as they began to offer words to her grave. You didn’t want to intrude.

You were making your way back to your group when the lead trucker—Custer—pinned Wrecking Ball to the truck. You watched as Custer cussed him out. “You were supposed to protect that car! And her! That’s Athena!” he said as he pointed back to her gravesite.

“Oh no, no,” the other man whined. “She was my friend! She didn’t like me, but she wasn’t mean to me either.”

“Look at me,” Custer said, forcing the younger man to focus. “Two mothers. Two daughters. They die of starvation; they turn Z!” It seemed to be some sort of riddle. “Athena’s dead! I can’t think straight.”

“What happens after five minutes of—” Doc cut Custer off as he had just began his ranting and raving of riddles.

“Look man,” Doc said, “things got pretty heavy back there.”

“Hey, pipe down hippie!” Custer said. You scrunched your forehead at that. You wanted to intervene, but what could you do? Warren approached the small group, and you stayed behind to watch from a safe distance. “If the radiation gets the better of you, you’re a threat to the whole group.”

Wrecking Ball pleaded with Custer, but the latter man banished him to the medical wagon to be with the ill people. “Check yourself, Custer,” the younger man said. “You don’t look so good.”

You watched Warren deal with Custer—telling him it was time to move out. You climbed up onto the truck, ignoring the hand Javier offered you. When 10K offered you a hand to get back into the crow’s nest, however, you took it. He helped pull you up, clasping your hands in his. He was careful not to pull too hard on your wounded arm. You noticed the muscles in his arms bulge, and you couldn’t help but realize that you liked the way it looked. He wasn’t a very big guy, more lanky than anything, but he had gotten stronger over the course of the year you both had been with Operation Bite Mark. Every day, he was growing more and more past young manhood and into a man-man. Your face heated up at the thought as you remembered the cute boy you had first met, not too long ago, and you compared him to the one in front of you now.

Once he pulled you into the nest, before you could even say “thank you,” he whipped his rifle out and shot at a blaster that was running towards the vehicles. When his bullet missed, that blaster and some of its friends attempted to make their way past the barricade separating all of you from them. One did, and it jumped on and attacked Javier. Warren was able to get one shot out on it which jolted it off him. It seemed to give up then, and it ran back the way it came.

Warren pulled Javier up from the ground. She then commanded Custer to get moving, and she yelled out, “Let’s go!” Once the truck was moving again, you finally allowed yourself a moment to breathe.

It wasn’t long until Custer slowed the truck down to a stop. He had spotted his lost car that the bandits had taken. You looked out of the crow’s nest, 10K peering through his scope, and all you were able to see was a bloody mess. “Cassandra,” he said. He handed you his rifle and allowed you to look through it yourself. You did so, and you saw what he had seen. Cassandra, heaving and covered in blood, standing over the mutilated corpses of what you could only assume were the bandits. Once the truck came to a complete stop, the two of you ran down to greet her. “Cassandra!” 10K repeated as you approached.

You took her face in your hands, but she didn’t look at you. “Cass? Are you in there?” you asked. It was a rhetorical question. A small part of you had hope, but most of your thoughts were forcing you to accept the reality that the Cassandra you knew was dead. And Murphy had killed her. You pulled her into a hug, not caring that you would get covered in blood, and you sobbed into her shoulder.

Doc came over and winced as he walked around the two of you. “You got a little something right here,” he said as he pulled an axe from her back.

“Does it hurt?” 10K asked her.

“Could use more Z weed,” she slurred. It was all you had heard her say since you found her after the blasts. You didn’t even know she could still talk.

“Okay, okay, yeah. Z weed. Whatever you need,” you said, nodding and pulling yourself away from her. You wiped your eyes with the backs of your hands. “What’s Z weed?” You turned to Doc. “That stuff you were smoking wasn’t regular pot?”

“Not exactly,” he said. All of a sudden, Cassandra seemed to come to out of her inebriated state. She made a beeline for Murphy. You sneered as she hugged him. She hadn’t hugged you back. But she hugged him.

“Do you think Cassandra’s more dead than alive?” 10K asked you and Doc.

“You mean is she more Z than a person?” Doc clarified.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“I don’t know, kid. She kind of comes and goes.”

“Whatever she is,” you said, still sniffling, “she’s not the same Cassandra we knew.” You stomped back to the truck. When you climbed into the crow’s nest once more, helping 10K as well, the two of you sat in silence as you waited for the trucks to start moving again.

Unfortunately, just as Warren had compromised with Custer and decided that she would drive the newly retrieved car, you all watched as it sped off down the road. A single, blue hand waved back at you out the driver’s side window, and you could see Cassandra in the backseat. Everyone piled in, and the truck pulled off. You had to hurry after them if you wanted any chance at catching them before the blasters got to them.

You were alerted to Addy’s endangerment when you heard the sounds of a struggle coming from the medical wagon. You could only assume that meant one thing—the sick had turned. “T!” you tapped him to get his attention.

“Got it!” he said when he heard. He expertly jumped from the crow’s nest and climbed over the junker trucks the semi had been hauling. You couldn’t see him as he climbed over into the medical wagon, but you knew it would do no good to just sit there. You climbed out of the nest and told Warren and Javier about the situation. Warren continued to yell at Custer to keep going, just as you saw Addy and 10K maneuver their ways around the trucks. There was a mean looking blaster after them—one that you’d seen before. The rest weren’t far behind. Doc was in one of the junkers, and he was insisting that he had a handle on things. It seemed he was right as he let out a shot, and the blaster flew off the truck. You urged your friends along, pulling them up and over whatever obstacles were in their way. The four of you hid on the other side of the crow’s nest.

“Hey, are we slowing down?” Addy yelled over the sounds of Javier’s gunfire.

“We need to not slow down!” Doc said. 10K let out a shot, right by your and Doc’s ears. He hit one, but there were still too many. They broke into a car and ate the woman sitting inside.

“Everybody, hang on to something!” Warren called, and you did as she ordered. She pulled herself around the tractor of the truck and got inside. You knew what she was doing as soon as the truck began to speed up to a level you hadn’t known it could reach. You felt a rough jolt from impact as Warren rammed the truck through a barrier that had been blocking the road. You held on tight and were able to steady yourself from falling off the side.

As the Z’s continued to approach, Addy said, “Doc, let me see your gun.” He handed it to her, and she mercied one of the Z’s that she had gotten to know. Javier shot at another blaster and hit it in the shoulder. This only seemed to enrage it further. Its eyes were wild in a way you had never seen in another Z before. Then, Warren was honking the horn, and Addy was telling you all to move it.

Warren opened the door and jumped out, hitting the ground and rolling. “Hang on, Roberta!” Doc called. 10K was to your left, and Addy was to your right, and you were holding both of their hands. Addy held onto Doc. Javier yelled for you to jump before doing so himself. You tossed your things off, and you looked to each other and braced yourselves before jumping.

When you hit the rough, dirt ground, the wind was knocked out of you. The concussion you were still recuperating from was pounding in your head. Your arm ached. The world spun as you stood, and you fell back onto your knees. 10K helped you to your feet and steadied you with both arms. You were dizzy and there was a sharp pain behind your eyes, but you were alive and off that zombie train. You watched as it continued barreling down the road, farther and farther away.

You collected your things and rejoined Warren. “I’ve never jumped from a moving vehicle my whole life,” Doc said as he rubbed his clearly hurting shoulder, “and now, boom. Twice in one day.” The truck’s horn sounded, but it was prolonged rather than coming out in short spurts. You could only infer what that meant.

You all walked across the road to where the medical wagon had been cut off from the main truck. It was, thankfully, zombie-free. “You sure about Minneapolis?” Warren asked Addy as you approached the vehicle.

“Wrecking Ball was going on about some herbal cure for the zombie virus being cooked up in an old genetically modified food lab out there.”

“Hold on,” Doc cut in. “Marijuana, zombies, and GMOs. What could go wrong?” You chuckled, and 10K opened the driver’s side door, only to be met with the dead body of one of the truckers you had been with.

Javier was jumpy and pointed his gun at the body, but it looked to have already been mercied. “You people really do attract it, don’t you?” he asked.

“Victim blaming’s a bad look, sir,” you told him as you crossed your arms. 10K just stared at him in silence. Javier rolled his eyes at you and asked 10K to help him with the hitch of the vehicle. “Passing on the girl to get help from a big, strong boy?” you called after them, mocking the sexism you had seen in your childhood classrooms from teachers. 10K shot you back with a smirk that sent the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, but Javier didn’t acknowledge your attempt at riling him up.

The truck exploded, out of sight, just down the road. “A caravan of twenty refugees leaves Seattle’s blast zone for Edmonton. They meet seven survivors and one Murphy. How many refugees survive?” Warren asked, mimicking the riddles that Custer would ask. As she and Doc walked off, you stayed with Addy.

“Not one,” she said.

Chapter Fourteen: Batch 47 OR A Zombie Cure?

tag list: @kimperfect244 , @yougrew-upunacave , @rensswritess comment if you want to be added!

#fanfic #x reader #z nation #10k z nation #10k x reader #10k z nation x reader #fem reader #no use of y/n #x fem!reader #puppy love #cross posted on ao3 #Chapter Thirteen: Zombie Road OR Gone Truckin’

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yumebambi-writes · 27 days ago

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Hey, I have a request if you could Sawyers (Bubba, Drayton, Nubbins and Chop Top) and their reaction to SIBLING S/O who constantly watches and protects them (even though they are all older than her). I really hope you answer 🙏 💜

Sawyer Brothers React to Protective!Little Sis!Reader (SFW)

cw: canon-typical violence

Drayton:

the eldest brother definitely babies you despite you being tougher than him all around

does secretly depend on you to protect him from particularly violent victims while he's tying them up

i think maybe you help him out at the gas station every so often, and that's where you lure in victims with your whole "innocent" vibe

he is so so proud of you, and he will let you know it

"that's our girl!"

you're a natural at wrangling those victims!

is content to sit back and watch you take care of them, especially when they fight back

he won't necessarily try to stop you if you need to rough them up a bit, but he also won't step in if they get rough with you in turn because he knows that you can handle yourself

also, he's a coward

Nubbins:

is actually pretty chill with you being over-protective of him

lets you stand up for him to chop top whenever he makes fun of him

is also a coward, but he'll stick up for you whenever chop top turns his teasing your way (which he rarely does because he knows you could beat him up if you wanted)

you're usually the one who patches him up after he cuts himself because no one else will do it

you protect him in little ways like that

when he tells you about how a victim made fun of him, you always make sure to tie their restraints a little too tight so that they cut into their skin. it's payback for them being mean to your big brother

in return, he'll make sure to cut up anyone who dares to mess with you. he'll cut them up good, don't you worry

Chop Top:

gets easily annoyed by you because he wants to think that he's strong enough to take care of himself

secretly doesn't mind that you're always watching his back

like i said, he doesn't tease you as much as your brothers because you're the baby, and he knows you'd beat his ass if he did

he also just doesn't have many reasons to make fun of you considering you protect him and have saved him from rowdy victims more than once

it's a constant competition between the two of you to see who can protect the other one more

you always beat him in this little competition, but you're not even trying; he's just really good at getting himself in trouble, and you're always there to step in

you take care of him when he gets ptsd flashbacks. he'll wake up screaming in the middle of the night, and you'll sing him some of his favorite songs and listen to his records with him until he falls asleep

he won't tell you to your face, but he appreciates your protection and care for him

Bubba:

loves that you're protective over him and is just as protective over you

thinks you're just the cutest thing ever and will also baby you

you could be cutting up some poor victim, and he'll be babbling with affection at just how good you're doing

you watch him and tend to mimic his killing and torture methods

he'll teach you the best ways to skin a person, and he'll make you your own mask out of anyone you want <3

loves you so much he practically adores you (familially of course)

gives you the biggest bear hugs, which you return because you love your teddy bear of a brother

one time, a victim knocked you over the head and escaped, and he wasted no time chasing them down and killing them slowly. nobody messes with his baby sister and lives

will even let you kill them if you want

whenever any of your other brothers call him stupid or make fun of him otherwise, you're there to knock some sense into them (literally. you love protecting your brothers, but you're not above beating on them. that's just how y'all show your love)

i love the sawyers so much i hope this was okay <3

#headcanons #bambi's headcanons #no use of y/n #fem reader #texas chainsaw massacre #bubba sawyer #drayton sawyer #chop top sawyer #nubbins sawyer #sawyer family

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yumebambi-writes · 28 days ago

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ohhh this hurts my heart /pos

#z nation #z nation fanart #addy z nation #addison carver #lucy serena murphy #lucy z nation #not my art

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yumebambi-writes · 29 days ago

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"Puppy Love" Chapter Twelve: White Light OR Flesh Wound

chapter twelve: 4.0k words

The six of you—you, Warren, Doc, 10K, Addy, and Mack—were running down the streets of Cheyenne, Wyoming. You were chasing after ‘The Murphy,’ or, as you knew him, just Murphy. Warren yelled after him, calling his name, as your feet pounded along the pavement.

Suddenly, Cassandra, who was now seemingly under Murphy’s zombie mind control, veered right and ran off in the other direction. Murphy continued down the road, turning left at the corner. A building obstructed your view of him, but you could see exactly where Cassandra was headed. You continued to follow Murphy, despite how your heart was screaming at you to follow Cassandra.

Around the corner, your group, along with the strange bounty hunter after Murphy, and Murphy were stopped in your tracks by a large, black SUV rolling in front of the blue man. The bounty hunter shot at the car, and you and your friends all ducked out of the way. He shot the driver and the vehicle crashed into another nearby car. Murphy took the opportunity to run away. The bounty hunter mercilessly killed the rest of the men in the vehicle before chasing after Murphy once again.

“Okay,” Warren said, “it’s like that then.” Then, another vehicle with more hunters drove by in front of you. As it passed, the red minivan you had seen earlier pulled up behind you, and the driver pulled out a shotgun and pointed it at you and your friends. You were trapped.

“Look out!” someone shouted as you all ducked for cover from the woman with the gun. She shot at the tire of the car you were hiding behind, then she shot out the window. Doc yelled out to 10K as the younger man ran off to hide behind a nearby building. Warren instructed 10K to go after Murphy, so he nodded and made a break to follow after him.

“Ugh! What the hell is going on?” Addy yelled over the sound of gunfire.

“It’s a damn Murphy free for all!” Doc responded. Suddenly, one of the men the bounty hunter had killed began to turn. “I think it’s time we need to go,” Doc said. At the same time, Warren shouted, “Time to go!”

You sprinted away, dodging the Z’s as the minivan sped off. As you were running, a car behind you exploded into flames as if it had been detonated. You didn’t have time to look back and see what caused the explosion as you continued to run.

The five of you—the bounty hunter was long gone—searched for Murphy to no avail. You went up and down the streets of Cheyenne that had now become hunting grounds for the man you might have once called a friend. All you found were more hunters after him.

You found 10K, lying motionless in the middle of the road as gunfire and Z’s ran wild around him. Doc quickly grabbed him and dragged him behind the truck you were using as cover. “You scared the hell out of me, kid!” Doc said to him. You kneeled down next to them, knowing you wouldn’t be any help in the gunfight currently waging around you.

“Me too, T! What were you doing, napping?” you asked.

“Where am I?” he asked as Addy dropped down beside you. You looked to Doc with concern in your eyes.

“Don’t worry. We got you now,” he said.

“What?” 10K asked, louder than he needed to even over the gunfire.

“I said we got you!”

“I can’t hear you!” As Mack, Addy, Warren, and now Doc shot back at the gunmen surrounding you, you grasped 10K’s hand. You asked him if he could hear you, but he just repeated that he couldn’t. You grabbed both sides of his head and turned him left and right, inspecting his ears. He looked back at you with wide eyes.

“Shit!” you exclaimed. There seemed to be a little trickle of blood coming from his right ear. You hoped it wasn’t so bad as to be a perforated eardrum. He definitely couldn’t hear anything, though.

“Why the hell is everybody shooting at everybody?” Addy asked, bewildered and frustrated.

“’Cause Murphy’s the Golden Goose,” Warren told her. “We’re sitting ducks here. We’re gonna have to split up into groups and keep moving. 10K, are you alright?” she asked him.

“What?” was his response.

“I think he’s deaf,” Doc said.

“I got him, Warren!” you told her.

“Doc, you go with them,” Warren ordered. Doc pointed at you and himself, indicating to 10K that you’d be going as a group. “You guys, get to the alley and cut east and advance north.” You nodded, and she gave Mack and Addy their own set of directions. “We’ll flush him out.”

“Well, what about the bounty hunters?” Doc asked. Your team wasn’t exactly the strongest; 10K was deaf, you could barely fire a gun, and Doc was—well, Doc. Nonetheless, Warren told you to kill them too.

“On my call, we’ll cover you,” she said. You grabbed 10K’s arm and pulled it over your shoulders, ready to haul him up and run. Warren counted down from three, and off you went. You, Doc, and 10K followed the directions Warren had given you, shooting at bounty hunters as you ran past. You may have even hit a couple of them, but you couldn’t be sure as you didn’t exactly stop to check.

You’d tracked Murphy down to an abandoned motel. It was huge, so it would be difficult to find him even if you could make it inside. You were in the parking lot, making your way slowly to the entrance of the building. There were unseen shooters hiding inside, and you had to avoid their gunfire. Doc went ahead of you and 10K, indicating to you to move to the vehicle closer to the entrance on his signal. He counted down from three, and 10K ran as Doc covered him. He did the same once more for you, but as you were running over to a different car, a shot flew and caught you in the side of your non-dominant arm. You let out a loud cry, but you had to make it to cover as the gunmen were still shooting at you.

“Shit, darling, are you okay?” Doc asked you as you made it to the car. “Are you hit?”

The bullet wound burned, and you could feel tears spring to your eyes, but you were lucky. Your thick, leather jacket had taken the brunt of the damage, so you were left with a deep but manageable flesh wound. “Yeah!” you called out to him. “All good, though.” The cut stung as you applied pressure to it with your dominant hand, the other one taking control of your gun. Doc ran to your car to check you out.

“That looks kinda bad,” he said as your hand came away covered in blood.

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted. Doc looked at you, uncertain, before attempting to communicate with 10K. Still deaf, 10K had no idea what Doc was trying to tell him, so the older man ran over to the truck he was using for cover. As they exchanged words, you kept your eye on the motel and your hand on your arm. Doc waved at you to get your attention. He mouthed the words “ready” and “go,” and the three of you ran together to get even closer to the entrance. You dashed from car to car.

“The Z’s must have followed him inside,” Doc said as you and 10K arrived at the car he had taken cover behind. “But I think I know a back entrance. Might be safer.” You nodded, but Doc looked to 10K. “Can you hear anything I’m saying?” he asked the younger man.

“What?” 10K yelled which resulted in a gunshot flying near your head and knocking out the car’s window. You ducked out of the way.

“Jesus! This is ridiculous,” Doc said. “What the hell are we doing here? That’s a rhetorical question,” he said when neither you nor 10K responded. “Alright, ready? I’ll cover. You run.” He counted down again, but when he said to go and 10K attempted to move, a sniper shot at him. He missed, but it was close enough to make you yelp. “Damn! Someone’s got us pinned.”

“A sniper—somewhere in there. Do you think 10K could get him?” you asked Doc, looking to 10K. He looked back at you, thick eyebrows furrowed. You pointed to his rifle and towards a general area of the motel. You then used your pistol to mimic shooting at the sniper. It seemed that it was only then that 10K noticed your wound. He completely ignored what you were asking him and took your arm in his hands. “Ow!” you shouted, wincing. He couldn’t hear you, but he could feel the tension in your muscles. He didn’t drop your arm, instead he inspected it. “Not now, T,” you said, swatting his hand away. You motioned towards the sniper again. He eyed you warily but nodded.

10K picked up a nearby tire hubcap and held it up over the side of the car. Instantly, the sniper shot it dead on. “Sniper,” 10K said.

“Great kid, thanks. We already knew that though.”

“He can’t hear, Doc!”

“Second floor,” 10K said. He was using a mirror shard to look for the sniper without poking his head out. “Seventh window from the right.”

“You think you can take him out?” Doc asked the still deaf 10K. You tapped him on the shoulder and mimed shooting a rifle. Doc stood, trying to get a better look, and was met with a zombie’s head out the open car window. He was forced to make a run for it into the building because he was out in the open, and the sniper was firing. 10K ran to a car that would give him a better shot, and you quickly shanked the Z in your car.

10K fired, and his shot shattered the window the sniper was shooting from. This offered Doc the chance to sneak up on him from the motel room balconies. You watched him enter the room next to the one the sniper was in. You waited, but when you didn’t hear shots, and you saw that the sniper was no longer in the window, you signaled to 10K that you were going up there. He nodded and followed you, grabbing you and draping your uninjured arm around his waist. You tried to tell him you were fine—that it wasn’t your leg that was shot, and you were perfectly capable of walking—but it fell on deaf ears. Literally.

You made your way up the stairs the opposite way from which Doc had gone because it was closer. As you walked carefully down the hall, you saw a figure run out of the room and heard Doc call Murphy’s name. You rushed into the room and found Doc on the ground with the dead sniper. 10K rushed to Doc’s side and asked him if he was okay while you stuck your head out the door and looked down the hall. “He’s gone,” you called over your shoulder. You turned to watch 10K pull Doc to his feet, and the two of them made their way to you. You weren’t paying attention to what was happening outside of the room, and two zombies approached the door, growling. You jumped back and closed the door on them just in time.

“Give me a break, will ya?” Doc shouted. Not hearing his prayers, the dead sniper turned Z and sat up.

“Doc!” 10K said, lifting his rifle, and Doc ducked. 10K mercied the sniper with one, clean head shot.

“Nice one, T!” you complimented. You gave him a smile and a thumbs up to mime what you had said. Then you pointed to the door and mimed shooting the two Z’s outside.

“I can hear now,” he said.

“Great,” you said, exasperated. “Just letting me act a fool for the fun of it, huh?” He smirked at you as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Let’s go, you two,” Doc told you. “We’re burning daylight here, and the two of you are flirting.” The accusation sent your eyes wide and 10K’s pale cheeks blazoned red. You stuttered out a sentence made of non-words, trying to tell him that’s not what you were doing, but he just waved you off and approached the door. For the hundredth time today, Doc looked at you both and counted down from three. You and 10K both shook off your nerves and prepared yourselves for the Z’s on the other side of the door. He opened the door, and 10K let off a shot and killed the nearest Z. The one that was behind him came running in though, and 10K had no time to reload and aim, so you took a throwing knife from your sash and threw it into the Z’s eye. It didn’t immediately send the Z down though, and it grabbed you. You struggled against it as it clawed at your jacket, trying to find easily accessible bare skin to bite into. Just before it could rip open the tear in your jacket to get to your wounded arm, you were able to get your left hand free from its grasp, and you used it to push the knife up through the socket and into the brain. Finally, it died.

Now that was over, the three of you exited the room and made your way down the hallway. Apparently, the commotion in the room had attracted three more Z’s, and the three of you ran for your lives. Not far down the hallway you encountered Warren and the bounty hunter from earlier. The two of them were running towards you, weapons drawn.

“Move!” Warren commanded as Doc warned that Z’s were right behind you. “Get down!” she yelled, and the three of you ducked. She and the bounty hunter quickly and easily dispatched the three zombies. As soon as the Z’s were down, the two of them ran down the hallway the way you came. “Follow us!” Warren said. You did as you were told.

The bounty hunter, whose name you had still yet to learn, led the group up a nearby stairway. He was taking you all to the roof, where he seemed to think Murphy was. At the top of the staircase, there was a ladder that opened out onto the roof. Warren went first, then 10K, the bounty hunter, Doc, and you. You struggled to climb up one-handed, but Doc was able to pull you out as soon as you reached the top. Once you were all up there, Warren pointed across the way. “Over there,” she said. You looked, and sure enough, there was Murphy. “Hey, it’s over,” Warren said as she approached him.

“Yep,” he said, “I’m done.” Something about his tone worried you. He wouldn’t just give up like that, would he? He began to walk to the edge of the roof. When Warren asked him what he was doing and tried to stop him he said, “Don’t! Don’t. I mean it. Don’t.”

You couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation, but you startled when he turned around and jumped off the roof. “No!” Warren screamed. “Back down!” She ran past you all and climbed furiously back down the ladder. The five of you ran down the stairs and out the door, chasing after Murphy—who had somehow survived the fall.

You didn’t find him until a couple of blocks away, in a neighborhood, attempting to escape with the van he had stolen from Mesa Pharmaceuticals, however long ago. When you found him, he was being violently beaten by Addy. Cassandra ran up on them and was going to attack your red-headed friend, but she was ordered not to by Murphy when he saw the bounty hunter’s gun trained on her. You and Warren screamed Addy’s name, and you pulled her off him. Doc helped Murphy to his feet. Murphy said, “What the hell? What’d I ever do to her?”

“You okay?” Warren asked her as the two of you held her up. You called her by her name. She was sobbing, and Warren shook her before asking, “Where’s Mack?” It was immediately clear that he was gone, and Addy stared threateningly at Murphy, panting like a rabid dog but unable to find any words, while you all came to the realization. Murphy had the good sense in him to look sorry, you thought. And maybe he was sorry. You, he, Cassandra, and 10K had never been all that close to Mack, but he was a member of your team. He mattered to Addy, and Addy mattered to you.

Silently, Addy got into the passenger’s seat of the van, and 10K threw Doc a piece of rope to bind Murphy’s wrists. Doc did so and pulled him up, dragging him to the car. He and Murphy each got into the back. Cassandra watched with a sense of dread and protectiveness coating her face, and 10K aimed his rifle at her and indicated for her to get into the van as well. She did so, and you and he followed her into the back.

As Warren got into the driver’s seat, the bounty hunter joined you in the crowded space in the back. When the engine started and Warren began to drive, you weren’t headed west towards California. Instead, you were headed southeast—away from the nuclear fallout. The nuclear fallout that Murphy had caused. Away from the dead body of a friend. The death of whom Murphy had caused. You hated the man.

Once you had been on the road for a while, 10K took your hand in his and began to peel off your jacket. Your face instantly heated up, and you asked him, stammering, “What are you doing?” Cassandra’s head whipped toward you, but you ignored her wild-eyed stare. 10K looked at you, confusion merging his brows, before he realized how it must’ve looked—him removing your clothing.

“I just—I just wanted to check your arm,” he stuttered. Your face cooled marginally, as did your demeanor. Of course that’s what he was doing, you thought. It’s not like he was coming onto you in the middle of the van, with everyone packed in there around you.

“Oh! Yeah, of course,” you said, shrugging your leather jacket off your shoulders. You winced as you did so. The burning sensation in your arm had long since passed, but it was still throbbing. The green of your new button-up was dark enough so that the red of your blood didn’t bleed through. The blood had dried which served as a bandage, holding your wound closed.

“Does it hurt?” 10K asked as he cradled your arm gently. With light fingers and a question of consent in his eyes—to which you nodded—he peeled your shirt from your shoulders so that you were left in just your black tank top. He was staring intently at your arm, and you were staring at him. Something about the way he held you and the way he whispered made you feel like you two were the only people left in the world. The encroaching presence of Cassandra, Murphy, Doc, and the bounty hunter reminded you that you weren’t alone, however.

“Not so much anymore,” you answered, putting on a brave face. He nodded and turned to grab something from his pack. “What are you doing?” you asked. He turned back around to face you, a roll of bandages in hand. “I’m gonna fix you up real quick,” he said, matter-of-fact. He grabbed your arm again, and you bit back a groan of pain and pleasure as his touch shot sparks through your skin. It felt wrong, but oh, so right.

Carefully, and teasingly slowly, 10K began to clean your wound with a clean cloth and some water from his canteen. The feeling of it stung, but you were so focused on his gentle touch and face of concentration that you hardly felt the pain at all. Once he had cleaned the outer edges of dried blood and was getting closer to the actual wound, however, you couldn’t help the wince of pain that crossed your features and the hiss that escaped from your mouth.

“Shit, sorry!” 10K cursed. 10K never cursed. He had once told you that his Ma didn’t like it. He looked genuinely terrified to have hurt you, though.

“It’s okay!” you reassured him with a grimace of a smile that you tried to cover the pain with. “Didn’t even hurt,” you lied through your teeth. The way you clenched your hands into fists told him the truth.

“Here, kid,” Doc intercepted, “let me help.” He held out his hands for 10K to hand over the cloth, but 10K refused.

“I got it,” he snapped. Doc looked taken aback, as did you. “I can do this,” he said, quieter now. Doc looked to you with wide eyes and a raised brow. You nodded. “I trust him,” you said. 10K smiled sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. Doc handed him an opaque bottle, telling him to use it carefully. Before you knew it, 10K had wet the cloth again, this time with the new substance in the bottle, and he was applying it to your open wound. Before you could protest, thinking it was an alcohol-based substance that would do more harm than good, you were yelping in pain at the direct contact. It didn’t burn though, like hydrogen peroxide or rubbing alcohol would have. “What is this shit?” you asked Doc as you grabbed onto his hand to steady yourself.

“It’s just some soapy water, darling,” Doc reassured you. You nodded, and 10K continued to lightly clean the worst of it. You gripped Doc’s hand so tightly you were sure it would break off. You shut your eyes and tried thinking about literally anything else to take your mind off the pain. You settled on thinking of 10K—more specifically, his face. You decided to open your eyes then, so you could stare at the real thing rather than just the imagined version in your head.

His face was contorted in concentration. His brows were furrowed, and his lower lip was caught between his teeth. He looked beautiful, you thought. His features, still soft, though sharpening as he emerged into manhood, put you at ease. You could hardly feel the sting of the bullet wound anymore as you admired him.

“Stop staring at me; you’re gonna break my concentration,” he whispered so that only you could hear. Your face heated up, but you didn’t look away. Once he was satisfied that the wound was fully clean, he took the roll of bandages that he’d grabbed out of his pack, and he began to tightly wind it around your upper arm. Once he was done, he released your arm which left you missing the warmth of his touch, but not before he trailed a soft finger over the bandaged wound. Another shiver shot up your spine and through your scalp. “There,” he said. “All better.” He looked to you with those big, blue-green eyes, and you couldn’t help yourself. You leaned over and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

It was a peck. No more; no less. But it felt like fireworks were exploding in your brain. This was no “good luck” kiss; this was a “thank you” kiss. An “I care about you” kiss. Maybe even an “I love you” kiss. You quickly retreated and shook the thought from your head.

He stared back at you, just as wide-eyed and face-flushed as you, and he placed his gloved hand over his cheek. Before either of you could say anything, Doc wolf whistled. You both looked at him, exasperated, and he just shrugged with a lopsided grin. You rolled your eyes at him and giggled some of your nerves away before looking back at 10K. He was staring at you, almost as if he wanted to say something, but you beat him to it. “Thank you, T.”

Chapter Thirteen: Zombie Road OR Gone Truckin’

tag list: @kimperfect244 , @yougrew-upunacave , @rensswritess comment if you want to be added

#fanfic #x reader #z nation #10k z nation #10k x reader #10k z nation x reader #no use of y/n #fem reader #x fem!reader #puppy love #cross posted on ao3 #Chapter Twelve: White Light OR Flesh Wound

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yumebambi-writes · 1 month ago

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writer's block has been kicking my ass guys!! i'm so sorry that i haven't gotten to everyone's asks :( i swear i'm working on them, it's just going really slowly

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yumebambi-writes · 1 month ago

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I have been inspired by the latest chapter of ‘Puppy Love’ to ask for some cuddly 10K headcanons!!

So some cuddly 10K head cannons please!!!!

lol

10K x GN!Reader Cuddling Headcanons (SFW)

i've said it before, and i'll say it again: 10k likes to be the little spoon

he'll be the big spoon for you, sure, if you ask nicely. but what he really loves is being enveloped in your arms

i think he also enjoys face-to-face cuddling because this man loves to stare at your face

he's always playing with your hair, and he often gets his fingers all tangled up in it (if your hair is long), and it takes him forever to untangle. though, you're pretty sure he's drawing it out just so he can be close to you for a while longer

he also loves it when you play with his hair, and he'll give you those puppy dog eyes instead of ever actually asking for a scalp massage

can and will fall asleep anywhere as long as you're holding him

will fall asleep while cuddling and will NOT let you go. if you try to wiggle out of his arms or pull your arms away from around him, he'll pout and whine in his sleep, and you'll feel so bad that you're forced to stay there

he's a lanky boy, so i think he really likes to wrap his legs around yours. he loves when your limbs get all tangled

there's not all that much meat on him, so i think he's probably kind of cold to the touch, so i imagine the two of you love to cuddle with blankets. he'll wrap a blanket tightly around the two of you so that you're like a double burrito. this forces you guys to be as close to each other as possible which was definitely his intent

cuddling, for 10k, isn't necessarily inherently romantic. he's a touch-starved person because i don't see him as having grown up with a lot of physical affection since it was just him and his parents (and just his dad when his mom died). i think it means a lot to him, even if the two of you are just friends. if you cuddle often though, he will likely develop feelings for you

sleeping with you, all cuddled up, is his favorite way to sleep

what's that thing about sleeping together being one of the best ways to form a deep connection with someone? yeah, that's what it's like with 10k

he's less cuddly when the two of you are awake ESPECIALLY if you're around other people

if there's others around, the most he'll do is hold your hand or wrap his arm around you shoulder

if it's just the two of you, but you're not sleeping, he'd like it if you sat on his lap

he'd wrap his arms around your torso and place his head on your shoulder (which gives him easy access to place his face in the crook of your neck and just inhale your scent)

he gets shy when anyone sees the two of you together like this, but he wouldn't push you away just for their sake. he'd probably just hide his blushing face behind your back while nervously playing with your fingers

he loves hugs because they make him feel safe and loved and appreciated. his father didn't show his love through physical affection, and his mother died when he was young, so he didn't receive many hugs growing up. please hug this boy

if there are romantic feelings between the two of you, i think he would love to kiss while cuddling. it's better than kissing any other way because he gets to feel all of you in a way that is both innocent and full of passion. no expectations of anything further happening; just the two of you, in love and safe in one another's embrace

more cuddling with 10K is featured in this and this chapter of my ongoing longfic "Puppy Love"

#x reader #z nation #headcanons #bambi's headcanons #no use of y/n #10k z nation #10k x reader #10k z nation x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader

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yumebambi-writes · 1 month ago

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Nsfw Edward cullen hcs?

i apologize, but i will not write nsfw for edward because he was turned when he was 17 and therefore is technically still a minor. i will write nsfw for any of the other cullens though as they are all over the age of 18!

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yumebambi-writes · 1 month ago

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y'all mind if i post some puppylove c0mms???

"Puppy Love" is not only an x Reader fanfic; it actually started out as a self-ship fic! here are some pieces of art i have c0mmissioned of 10K and myself (bc obvs reader has no physial description)

i really hope this doesn't ruin the fic for any of you because it is still very much an x Reader fic, and you can imagine the reader as yourself or anyone you like!

art creds:

@/cupiidzbow on twt

@/yumetwt_sol on twt

@/BonejaminsWife on twt

#z nation #10k z nation #art commisions #yumeship #yume community #yumeshipping #self ship #self insert

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yumebambi-writes · 1 month ago

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It's me back with 10k propaganda-

I propose 10k HCs of then functioning like a normal person after a engery drink and or some candy cause he has low blood sugar after his Canon event to have a BPM of 6 :)

10K with a BPM of 6 Headcanons (SFW)

cw: some angst (sorry)

so, we all know that technically our boy is undead

like val said, he canonically has a resting heart rate of 6 bpm

his heart is still working and pumping blood, but it works at an incredibly slow pace

i think this means that he's really sluggish and constantly fatigued, plus he's probably freezing cold and his limbs likely fall asleep often due to the lack of blood circulation

i think he probably faints a lot with his bpm of 6, but he doesn't ever notice it because he's in and out in under a second. he wakes up with lots of new bruises from falling over all the time, but he doesn't ever remember how he had fallen to the ground

if he were to drink an energy drink, something with loadsssss of caffeine, he MIGHT start to feel normal again

it would have to be A LOT of caffeine to get his heart rate up to a normal bpm

typically, a fast heart rate is more often related to low blood sugar (APPARENTLY, idk i'm not a doctor i just googled it), but a slow heart rate can be a sign of low blood sugar as well

i think an energy drink would be the way to go, then

i honestly don't think he realized his heart rate was so slow until s5 when he gets checked into altura

you know that vending machine that kaya and cz hang out in for a little bit? let's pretend it also sells energy drinks

10k just decides to drink one on a random day while he's stranded there without a hand, and all of a sudden the world feels like it's going at a million mph, and that's when he realizes that he's been living the past few years in slow motion

he was completely out of it while he was a blend, so he didn't even notice the transition from normalcy to the slow-paced "life" he had been living. then, after s3 and at the start of s4, life had felt slow because he'd been living a relatively safe life away from operation bite mark. i don't think he even registered how calm everything seemed since he died and became undead

it's not until he drinks this energy drink that he realizes that things haven't been "calm," he's just been navigating the world through a thick fog

the fog clears, and suddenly he's feeling like himself for the first time in years

until he remembers that his hand is gone, and now he's lost his sense of identity in being a sniper

he craves the warmth of his skin and the life in his eyes that returns to him when he's caffeinated

i think he's more engaged in everything when he's on caffeine

he's more attentive, both in a battle and in his relationships with other people

he tells his friends he loves them, constantly, because now he can remember what love feels like in the beating of his heart (OUCH)

i'm not sure if his relationship with red would improve or deteriorate because it's not like she knew him when he was alive and normal; most of their relationship took place after the canon event that brought his heart rate down to 6 bpm

to her, he'd seem like a different person, but really, he's more like himself than he had been in years

he's just more ALIVE

he probably develops a caffeine addiction and becomes strung out and depressed when he drinks his last energy drink

he didn't put it together until then, but the life he'd been living since he first became undead was one of simply going through the motions. he was severely depressed and didn't even realize it until that depression went away for a bit before it came back full force

he'd never noticed just how tired he was all the time

let me know if this was what you were thinking :)

#headcanons #z nation #10k z nation #bambi's headcanons

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yumebambi-writes · 1 month ago

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Heyyy, okay so i was wondering if you could slasher (Jason Vorhees, Micheal Myers, Brahms Heelshire, Bubba Saywer, ect) and how they react to there partner/S/O purposely making them jealous. Also you can make it NSFW or SFW i don’t care🤍🤍

Slashers' Reactions to GN!Reader Purposely Making them Jealous

(some NSFW under the cut, MDNI)

i've only seen the first "halloween" and "friday the 13th" movies, so i can try for michael and jason but can't guarantee how accurate they will be

featuring: jason voorhees, bubba sawyer, pinhead, michael myers, brahms heelshire, ghostface (persona, billy loomis, stu macher, charlie walker), bo sinclair, vincent sinclair, lester sinclair

cw: canon-typical behavior/violence, death, knife-play, mutilation, exhibitionism

Jason Voorhees

takes it very personally and thinks there's something wrong with him as though it's a moral failing on his part that you would even think about looking at someone else

fully believes you're going to leave him and might lash out because of it. if he hurts you on accident, he'll only feel worse about himself

again, i wouldn't recommend attempting to make him jealous because he won't be jealous—he'll be depressed

his mother will be very harsh on you and will try to convince jason to kill you for this betrayal of trust

yeah, maybe don't try to make your serial killer boyfriend with psychosis jealous

Bubba Sawyer

doesn't really understand the feelings of jealousy that rise within him, but he does know that he does not like it because you're his

i think you'd probably try to make him jealous by doing little things, not by explicitly flirting

like, you'll serve nubbins his dinner before you serve bubba, or you'll give chop top a bigger portion

you'll compliment drayton's cooking and ask him to teach you, and you'll spend all day by his side instead of bubba's

the rest of the family definitely notice what you're trying to do. the twins get a huge kick out of it, but drayton thinks the whole thing is stupid. still, all three of them indulge you because they love to tease bubba :(

i think chop top might even try to escalate things by telling bubba you're his now and that he's going to do dirty things to you

bubba's crash out will be massive and will cause lots of property damage

he won't hurt his brothers, of course, because his loyalty to his family tops even his jealousy and rage

he also would never hurt you, but he would for sure get very mopey and might not want to interact with you much until you apologize and explain that you wanted to make him jealous because you thought it would be hot

he does not understand this concept whatsoever. you think hurting his feelings is sexy? do you like it when he's sad?

you have to reassure him that's not the outcome you wanted and of course you would never want to hurt him because you love him. he'll accept this but might continue to mope any time you're around his brothers for a little while

Pinhead

does not fully grasp this mortal concept of jealousy

feels they are above it (which they are)

if they know you're expecting a reaction, they'll be more than happy to give you what you want (pleasure through pain)

i think they carve their name into your skin to claim you as their own and make sure you don't forget who you belong to

they wouldn't even bother to look at, let alone hurt/kill, whoever it is you tried making them jealous with beause they don't deserve the pleasure of pain

seriously, why would you even try to make them jealous if it's not for exactly this reaction?

Michael Myers

will kill whoever it is you try to make him jealous with. he does not care about or value human life (aside from you), and he will not hesitate to kill someone just for flirting with you

i wouldn't recommend trying to make him jealous because he will be pissed at you. not enough to hurt you, of course, because he loves you in his own, twisted way. but he WILL give you the silent treatment in a way that you didn't know was even possible considering he never speaks in the first place

will likely come up with ways to "punish" you in the bedroom. lots of (consensual) roughing you up and knife-play. will edge you until you cry and then edge you some more. probably wouldn't even let you cum at all, the sadistic bastard

Brahms Heelshire

the only person you could use to make him jealous is malcolm, and we already know he has almost no reservations about killing malcolm

he will warn you first, however. "if he comes back here, i'll kill him. i'll kill him just like the others!" love that line

you'd have to calmly explain to him that you just wanted to make him jealous, and you don't actually like malcolm. if malcolm flirted back with you, though, you might have to find a new grocery boy

i think the more likely way you'd try to make brahms jealous is by denying him sexually

like, say you're masturbating using a toy instead of letting him touch you

that toy will end up destroyed the next time you go looking for it

maybe you're humping your pillow instead of him

all of your pillows will be sliced to bits, and you'll have nothing to sleep on

or maybe, once he's revealed himself to you, you continue to give the doll more attention than him. i don't think he'd ever break the doll, but i do think he'd hide it from you for a few days until you make it up to him and give him the attention he craves

yes, he even gets jealous of the doll version of him, even though he accepts a lot of the affection given to it as though it was given directly to him. idk man he's sensitive

Ghostface (the persona)

any one of the ghostface killers are extremely jealous when they take on the persona

something about the spirit of the mask just seems to elevate their lust for violence...among other things

they care less about the person you're using to make them jealous and more about punishing you

that's not to say they don't kill the person, because they do, but they're more focused on making sure you know not to play that game with them because someone will get hurt

Billy Loomis

will fuck you silly to remind you who you belong to

leaves so many bruises and hickeys on your skin so that other people know you're taken

would kill the person you flirted with in order to make a point that he doesn't mind making a mess in order to put you in your place

Stu Macher

i honestly think he'd find it funny if he saw you flirting with someone else

he'd walk up to you and the other person, all casual, before smacking your ass and slipping his arm around your shoulder

i think he might even start flirting with them too and invite them to join you two for some fun

at the end of the day, you know who you belong to, and he will announce it from the rooftops

Charlie Walker

he gets so pissy when he sees you flirting with someone else

he won't even notice the way your eyes flicker to him to make sure that he's watching you; he doesn't know it's a game to you

he won't do anything publicly, but when he gets you alone, i think he'd roughly take your hand and ask, "what the hell was that about?"

you'd bat your lashes, the picture of innocence, and ask him, "what was what about?"

he wouldn't say anything to your face, but you know by the way he kisses you hungrily that he is feeling possessive

the person you flirted with just happens to be announced dead the next day

Bo Sinclair

gets jealous really easily because he's extremely possessive of you

maybe some poor tourist comes across ambrose, and you decide to flirt with them a little in front of bo

he will take his time torturing them, and he'll enjoy it

i think he'd make you watch as he tortured the person, saying, "look what you made me do, baby. you're driving me crazy, you know that?"

i think he'd take you in front of the victim, after gluing their eyes open and forcing them to watch, as he pounds into you from behind

will cup his hand around your throat until it leaves a mark, just so that you'll remember you're his every time you look in the mirror or it hurts when you swallow

Vincent Sinclair

i don't see him getting jealous very easily because he always had to share with bo, and he never minded sharing (unlike his twin, who hated it)

i also don't think he's great at recognizing when you're flirting, so if you want to make him jealous, you'd have to actively touch the person you're using

it could be as simple as you trailing a finger up their arm

but once he sees that, he's gone

when he gets jealous (which again, is rare), he gets JEALOUS

like his twin, he will also take his time torturing the victim, when he usually just kills them without any foreplay

he requires reassurance, after the kill, that you still love him and that you didn't really mean it

idk why would you hurt him like that :(

Lester Sinclair

gets the least jealous out of the sinclair brothers

honestly, i kind of see him as non-monogamous, so i think he'd be okay with it!

would be up front and open with you and ask all kinds of questions regarding whether this person is your type, what drew you to them specifically, if you're interested in asking them to be a part of your relationship or if you just want a threesome

maybe this isn't the reaction you were hoping for, and he'll feel bad about that, but he's just a chill guy

might be a tad insecure that he's not fulfilling your sexual needs, but i think he'd want you to have the option to get that fulfillment elsewhere as long as you still come home to him at night

happy friday the thirteenth!!! hope these were good <3

#fanfic #x reader #headcanons #bambi's headcanons #no use of y/n #gender neutral reader #jason voorhes x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #pinhead x reader #michael myers x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #ghostface x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #charlie walker x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader

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yumebambi-writes · 1 month ago

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should i start a "puppy love" taglist? would anyone be interested in being added to that??

#puppy love

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yumebambi-writes · 1 month ago

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"Puppy Love" Chapter Eleven: The Murphy OR Start Over Again

side note: it's so hard finding gifs for each individual episode, so this is the best you get

chapter eleven: 7.0k words

As you, 10K, Doc, and Warren were fleeing from Fort Collins in a stolen SUV, the nuclear reaction Murphy had somehow set off detonated. You were lucky that Warren’s lead foot on the gas pedal got you out of the blast zone in time, but her highspeed driving caused the van to suddenly flip on its head when she took a sharp right turn. And because there was no room in the backseats—due to your recently shot friend, Doc, currently bleeding out—you were sitting in the passenger seat. Unbuckled. 10K was sitting half under you and half to the side of you, but he was fortunately small enough to wear the seatbelt strapped across his chest. You, unfortunately, were not. It couldn’t fit the both of you. His arms, wrapped securely around you, were your only fortifications against gravity hurling you through the windshield as the vehicle flew through the air, tumbling a few times for good measure, before landing upside down.

Once the car stilled, 10K’s grip on you loosened as the weight of gravity made you too heavy for him to hold. As if in slow motion, you watched as the ceiling of the van came up and smacked you in the face. You groaned in pain at the broken glass now cutting into your cheek. Your neck was bent at an odd angle that would take weeks to undo the crick it likely caused, and your head was pounding. Warren and 10K pulled themselves out the side windows, and you crawled on more broken glass to follow after them. Once free from the car, Warren helped you to your feet as 10K pulled Doc out from the backseat. As you stood, the world around you spun in dizzying circles, and you stumbled backwards. Warren steadied you.

“Ow! Ow, watch the shoulder,” Doc said as 10K got him to his feet. You could hear him, but accompanying his voice was a ringing in your ears. You held your head in your hands, and Doc called to you, “You alright, darling?” You tried to nod, but that only intensified the pounding you felt. Your voice came out a croak, so instead you just shot him a thumbs up.

Warren took your face in her hands and looked you in the eyes. “Think she’s got a mild concussion.” You waved her off, telling her you were fine. “Holy shit,” Doc said, diverting your attention to the outside of the tunnel you had crashed in. “Is that snow?” It did look like snow, but that couldn’t be right. You had no idea what month it was, and you were in Colorado, but you were pretty sure it was the off-season and snow shouldn’t be there. “Nah, that’s not snow,” Warren corrected. “That’s ash. Radioactive fallout.” Great.

You had been walking for hours with the sun beating down on you. You had wrapped your button up around your head to protect yourself from the rays; sunscreen wasn’t exactly readily available to you in the apocalypse. 10K, Doc, and Warren were all decked out similarly. You wanted to help 10K support Doc, but when you tried to put Doc’s arm around you, he yelled out in pain. Admittedly, it was the arm that had just been shot in the shoulder, so it probably was best you didn’t touch it. You felt bad that you couldn’t do more, though, when Doc stumbled and almost fell.

You decided it would be best to take a rest, so you helped 10K set Doc down on a makeshift seat. You were in what looked like a junkyard, but it seemed pretty cleanly picked over. “What is it?” Warren asked 10K after he let out a deep sigh.

“The bleeding stopped, but…” Doc’s wound wasn’t getting any better.

“Just go,” Doc tried to tell you. “Find me a hole to crawl in. Leave me a weapon and some ammo.”

“Hey,” Warren said, and you all looked to her. “Nobody’s leaving you here to die.”

You didn’t want to leave anyone ever again. First, you left Addy to those Sisters of Mercy. Then, you left Mack to deal with Addy’s abandonment alone. Then, you left Cassandra, and she ended up as some kind of superhuman, Murphy-controlled zombie thing. And you left her again as you fled Fort Collins, where she was now likely stuck under tons of rubble and debris. You couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving another one of your friends behind.

“Here,” Warren said, handing Doc her water bottle, “take the last of the water. Go on. Pretty weak myself. We wait here too long, we might be too weak to go look for help.” She was right. You didn’t want to admit it, but the concussion you likely had was taking its toll on you. Standing was a struggle and every step made you feel either nauseous or like you were going to pass out. “I’ve only got a day in me without water, if that.”

“Well, I don’t think I’m going anywhere, chief,” Doc said. She sighed.

Warren addressed you and 10K. “You stay here with Doc. I’m going to see if I can find food or help while I still got the strength.”

“Let me come with you,” you said as you made a move to stand up. As soon as you did, you fell. 10K shot out a hand and caught you before you hit the ground, but you continued to stumble. Warren waited until you were steady to shoot down your offer. Clearly, you were in no condition to be of any help to her, and you would most likely be more of a hindrance than anything.

“If I’m not back in forty-eight hours,” she said, “you’re on your own.” Finding your balance, you stood and gave her a tight hug. You told her to come back.

“Good luck,” 10K told her.

“Thanks,” she said as she began to walk off. You hoped you would see her again.

The day came and went. Doc could hardly move, and you needed to rest if you were going to get over this concussion any time soon. The time you didn’t spend sleeping in an abandoned junker or watching over Doc as 10K scouted the junkyard for anything useful, you were worrying about Warren. You didn’t have a clock, but you were pretty sure at least a full twenty-four hours had gone by with no sign of her. Time was ticking.

You were about to fall asleep for the third time since Warren had left, when 10K came and joined you in the bed of the truck that you had claimed. “Hi, T,” you yawned. “I was gonna get another nap in and see if I can sleep off this concussion. Do you need me to watch Doc? I don’t think you’ve gotten a chance to rest yet.”

He smiled softly and shook his head at you. “I’m good,” he replied, calling you by the first initial of your name. “I was just checking on you. Doc’s asleep in that trailer over there.” You looked to where he was pointing.

“I bet that thing has a real bed in it,” you said, jealous.

“Yup,” was all he said.

“Guess he deserves it, what with getting shot and all.”

“You have a concussion,” 10K pointed out.

“It’s not a competition,” you teased. “Besides, I’ve got a pretty good setup here.” You were being sarcastic as you fluffed your emptied backpack to use as a makeshift pillow. You wrapped your button-up around your shoulders, chilled by the evening sun lowering in the sky. You leaned back on your elbows, legs sprawled out in front of 10K.

“That can’t be comfortable.”

“It’s not,” you agreed, “but it’s all we have.”

“Doc said there was a couch in the trailer. Seemed to think it pulled out into a bed.” You perked up at this. Then you deflated once more. He looked at you with a question tracing his scarred brow.

“Someone should probably stay out here, huh? In case Warren comes back.”

“It’d be safer for you to rest in there,” he shot back. “I can keep watch.”

“Have you heard the way Doc snores? I think I’d rather stay out here with you. Keep you company while you’re keeping watch.” He smiled at you, a rare smile that showed his teeth and the dimple in his left cheek. As always, it sent your heartbeat racing. He nodded, giving into your whims. He never seemed to be able to fight you whenever you wanted something. He never seemed to want to.

“Get some rest.” You laid back down and watched him as he climbed up and got comfortable sitting on top of the truck. He began to clean his rifle and double-check the scope. It was a habit of his that you often observed him doing, even though he kept his weapon in tip-top shape. You were busy admiring him, staring at him without shame or fear of getting caught, when he spoke again. He didn’t even glance at you when he said, “You’re not sleeping.”

“Yes, I am,” you lied.

“You’d have to stop staring at me and actually close your eyes for that to be true.” You smiled sheepishly.

In your concussed and exhausted state, you accidentally let slip, “But you’re just so pretty.” He instantly froze, but he didn’t turn to look at you like you thought he would have. Instead, he muttered something under his breath, that you couldn’t hear, and you watched as he smiled softly to himself. “What’d you say?” you asked him through another yawn.

“I said, ‘go to sleep.’”

“That’s not what you said.” He shot you a devious smirk, confirming that you were right. “If you don’t tell me what you actually said, I’m just going to have to guess.”

“Guess then,” he told you. He put his rifle down beside him and tucked his legs under him, crossed. He looked at you intently and gave you a nod, telling you to proceed. You were bluffing for the most part; you had no idea what it could have been that he said. But now you wanted to play the game.

“I bet you said, ‘I’m the prettiest princess in all the land.’” It was nowhere near close to what he had said as he had only muttered a few words. You wanted to tease him, however, so you didn’t really care. He plucked a blade of grass from off the bottom of his combat boot, rolled it up into a ball, and flicked it at you. It missed, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Not even close.”

“What’s with all the secrets, mister secret-haver guy?” He snorted at the ineloquent nickname. You flipped over onto your stomach and propped your head up with your hands so that you could continue to look up at him.

“What’s with you not going to sleep?” he shot back at you.

“Not tired,” you mumbled, tired. “Besides, it’s kind of cold out here.” You shivered as if your body had decided to prove your point.

“I told you to go sleep in the trailer!” 10K told you, exasperated.

“But then you’d be all alone!” you whined, half-asleep already. Your eyelids were drooping, and you couldn’t stop yawning in between sentences. You asked him to climb down so that you wouldn’t have to stretch your neck to see him. He obeyed, and you were able to lay down on your back once more. When he laid down beside you—something you hadn’t expected him to do—you turned onto your side so that you could face him. The proximity and the posing reminded you of the morgue cabinet the two of you had found yourselves in months ago. “This is familiar,” you whispered, not even thinking about it until his face lit up, bright red. You were surprised until you remembered how that night you shared in the cabinet had started.

“Sorry,” was all he said. He wouldn’t look at you as he began to scoot backwards to give a foot of space between the two of you. As he moved back, you began to inch towards him, closing the gap he was attempting to create.

“I said it was familiar, not that it was bad,” you said, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion and maybe a hint of flirtation.

You continued this wriggling dance until his back hit the side of the truck bed, and he couldn’t scooch any farther. You continued to close the distance until there was only a little more space between your bodies than there was in the cramped cell of the morgue. “What are you doing?” he asked. His eyes were wide, and you were instantly put off; you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You apologized and began to roll over, to reintroduce the foot of space between you, when he grabbed your arm and stopped you. He turned you back to face him and said, “No, it’s okay. Just caught me off guard, is all.”

You looked into his green-blue eyes, light as an afternoon sky and deep as an ocean, and you recognized something—sincerity and trust. “I told you,” you whispered, watching as his eyes flicked to your lips. “I’m cold.” He smiled at this in the way he only smiled at you, and you watched his cheeks crinkle. You noted the faint freckles dotting the bridge of his nose, and you found yourself reaching over and tracing a line down the bridge with your finger. He shivered, and you apologized, but his smile never dipped.

This time, it was he who moved closer to you. Your breath caught in your throat as he cupped your cheek in his hand. “This is familiar,” he repeated. You thought he might kiss you, and you closed your eyes. You leaned in, an almost imperceptible amount, but just as it had before, a yawn cut you off. You’d felt it coming and had tried to swallow it down, but it was persistent, and you ended up giving in to a closed-mouth yawn. You forced yourself to have that shred of dignity, not wanting to breathe hot air directly into his face. This must have looked silly, though, as 10K let out a small chuckle. “Go to sleep,” he said, once more. You very nearly obeyed.

“Wait,” you told him, your voice barely even a murmur. Your eyes were closed, but you felt him lightly tap the side of your face in response as he waited for your instructions. You took a deep, soothing breath in through your nose, almost lulling yourself to sleep before you could get another word out. Another tap brought you back. “Turn around.” You could hear the question in his “Hmm?” But he did as he was told. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around him and held him against you, his back to your chest.

You were spooning him, plain and simple. He had tensed at the prolonged touch initially, but once he accepted that you weren’t some opponent, capturing him in a vulnerable embrace, he welcomed the feeling of your arms around him. His entire body—every muscle in him—loosened, and he let out a deep, slightly wavering sigh. It sounded as though he had needed this. You could only assume he was just as touch starved as you.

“Why?” he asked, and you could hear the pleased smile on his face.

“Feels safe,” were the last words you said before you drifted off.

You were sleeping off another massive headache in the bed of the truck again when you were shaken awake by the sound of a gunshot. Then another. You opened your eyes blearily to see 10K and Doc on the roof of the nearby trailer.

10K had left your embrace some time between the cuddling nap and this last one. He’d muttered something about needing to scout or forage or whatever. Your head had been pounding too hard for you to hear. Luckily, the pounding was gone as you woke and was replaced by the ringing of gunfire.

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up and yelled up to them, asking about Warren, “Is she back?” 10K shook his head and pointed to something in the distance. “Then what’s—” your question was cut off by the shock at the sight before you when you turned to look where he was pointing. “Addy?” you exclaimed. You scrambled to your feet, jumped out of the truck, and shot off towards the redhead in front of you. She stood up straight when you approached her. She gladly took you into her arms as you flung yourself at her.

“Hey, you,” she said with a slight giggle. You leaned back from the hug and searched her face with your eyes. She looked fine; she looked safe and healthy, if not a little tired and bewildered.

“I—I never thought I’d see you again!” you stuttered, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Your hair!” You ran your hands over it, amazed at the new look. She used to have tangled dreads, built up from years in the apocalypse, but now, her hair was cut and braided into a crown on her head.

“You don’t like?” she asked.

“It’s just so different! I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. It looks nice,” you told her, earnest in the compliment. “What are you doing here?”

“Long story,” she said. “Mack found me, and we’ve been looking for you.” She nodded her head to the side, and that was when you finally noticed Mack was there as well. You waved at him sheepishly, and he waved back with a small frown on his face. It didn’t seem as though it had been a happy reunion. “Apparently, the boys saw the signal we sent out.”

“What about the Sisters?” you asked. As soon as you said it, you knew you had said the wrong thing. A distant, misty-eyed stare took over her, and she unwrapped her arms from around you. She explained that there was a fire. Everyone was killed. She pulled herself out of your embrace and walked off.

“Give her some time,” Doc told you after 10K helped him down from off the roof of the trailer. Mack scoffed, and you looked at him. He was bitter. He was unhappy. Rougher around the edges than when you last saw him.

“Just get ready to go,” was all he said. You didn’t ask where you were going or how he was doing. You complied and rounded up the few things you had. All you had to your name was your backpack, your two hammers, your sash with ten or so throwing knives, your empty water bottle, mini first-aid and sewing kits, a diva cup, nearly empty bottles of shampoo and conditioner, a couple bars of soap, a toothbrush without toothpaste, and anything else you had gathered over four years in the apocalypse. When you were sure you had everything, 10K pulled you up into the bed of the trailer that was attached to a four-wheeler Mack had apparently acquired during his separation from the group. Addy returned, wiping her face of tears—presumably—and she hopped into the back as well. Then, you were off.

You weren’t sure how you managed it, but somehow, you stumbled upon Warren. Or maybe she stumbled upon you. Either way, there she was, with days’ worth of rations and water. It felt like a miracle after the amount of bad luck you all had faced. The team was back together—for the most part—and you had a new mission.

Apparently, Citizen Z had blabbed to the world that Murphy—being the only known survivor of a zombie bite and carrier of antibodies needed for a vaccine to combat the zombie virus—was out in the world and needed to be found. He ransomed a huge bounty for Murphy, on the CDC’s behalf. Now, everyone in the living, post-apocalyptic world was going to be coming after him. Your group—Operation Bite Mark—needed to be the ones to find him first.

You had stopped in the first town you’d found, and you had each looted new clothes. You all desperately needed them and were lucky enough to discover a well-stocked thrift store. You all hadn’t had a decent change of clothes for almost a year, so it was a welcome and much needed find.

Inside, there were a handful of mercied Z’s but no other sign of life. Once you all cleared the rest of the place, you began your shopping spree.

After you had found some relatively appropriate apocalypse attire, you said goodbye to the pretty blouse you had cut up from the dress the Sisters of Mercy had let you borrow. You needed to get rid of the one thing that would most easily remind Addy of what she had so recently lost. She had done the same with the dress she wore and the crown braided into her hair.

You now donned a brand-new pair of cargo pants (more pockets meant more places to hide your knives), a fresh tank, and a bulky, leather bomber jacket. You even found another sports bra—this one a better fit—so, you put that one on and stashed your old one in your backpack just in case. Bras were uncomfortable and hard to come by in the apocalypse, but with the amount of running you did, you were glad to have one. Your combat boots had continued to serve you well, but you were able to replace the worn laces with newer ones. As you finished tying up your new laces, foot up on a nearby bench as you hunched over, you turned around only to bump directly into 10K.

“Sorry!” you said as you tried to move out of his way. He apologized, in turn, saying that he had just wanted to show you something. He took your hand and led you over to where the jewelry was displayed. Most of it was costume jewelry, pretty but completely impractical in the world you lived in, and you didn’t know what it was he wanted you to see.

“There—look,” he said, pointing at a selection of sorted necklaces. They seemed to be initial necklaces, something cheesy that you usually would never have worn, but then you spotted it. Right next to a gold chain sporting the letter “T” was a silver chain with a charm of your first initial. “It’s us,” he said with a small smile. You were flustered at his word choice. “Us.” Almost as if there was something between the two of you—something more than the friendship you had grown to cherish.

Impulsively, you slid open the glass door separating you from the jewelry, and you grabbed the two necklaces. You handed him the silver one. He pointed out that you had given him the wrong one; you had given him the one with your initial. In a surge of spontaneous courage, you told him, “I thought maybe you could wear my initial, and I could wear yours.”

You eyed him warily as you struggled with the clasp of the gold chain. You were prepared to tell him it was just a silly joke, that it would be funny because it was ironic, but he just shrugged and nodded. He looked to be sporting a small blush, but surely that was a trick of the light. Wordlessly, he took the “T” necklace from you and turned you around. He gently moved the collar of your jacket away from your neck. His hands were warm as they brushed against the sensitive nape of your neck. You couldn’t mask the shudder that flew down your back at his touch, and you sucked in a sharp breath. When he finally secured the jewelry around your neck, you turned to face him. You took the silver chain from him and mimicked his actions—clasping it around his neck in turn. You tucked it under his shirt’s collar, and your fingers lingered on the skin there.

He quirked an eyebrow at you and asked, “Keeping it hidden?” You snapped out of your temporary reverie and quickly withdrew your hand. You watched as he pulled a scarf over his head and covered the spot where your fingers had just been.

“It’ll be our little secret,” you told him in a whisper, placing one finger to your lips in a shushing motion. You didn’t miss it as his eyes fell to your lips before his tongue flicked out and licked his own.

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice slightly husky as he dropped it to a whisper to match yours. “I wouldn’t mind if people saw you wearing that.” You weren’t entirely sure of what he was implying, and you didn’t want to read into it, but a pulse in your pants told you that you liked the thought of him claiming you as his own. When he saw your wide eyes, he immediately backed down. He cleared his throat, looked away, and said, “You know, because it’s not like they’d immediately think ‘T’ as in ‘ten thousand,’ right?”

You giggled at him. It was cute that he had flustered himself, but the fact that it flustered him at all made you think that maybe he had been intentionally flirting. “Yeah, it’s not like I call you ‘T’ and have called you such in front of people. They’d never know,” you responded, sarcastically. He rolled his eyes at you but grinned, nonetheless.

You couldn’t exactly tuck the necklace into your low-cut tank top, so you found another button up to wear over it. While your other button up shirt had been a light blue that easily stained, the new one you picked out was a nice, dark green. You shrugged off your new jacket and pulled on the shirt, buttoning it and tucking the necklace under the collar. You didn’t button the shirt up all the way, so the chain peeked out over your collarbone. You thought the gold looked nice against your bare skin, contrasting the green. You re-donned your jacket.

“Good to go?” 10K asked you as he had been waiting for you to dress so that the two of you could rejoin your group outside. You nodded and followed him out, the both of you making sure to gather all of your things before closing the door and hopping into the back of the trailer.

You hadn’t been driving very long when you reached the town of Cheyenne, Wyoming. Addy announced that this must have been what the people she’d heard on the radio had been talking about. It was likely that Murphy was here or had been spotted near here recently.

“I wonder who else heard that broadcast,” 10K said. You nodded as Mack alerted you to the presence of other survivors. They were in vehicles of their own—much larger than yours—and they were wielding weapons. You had competition.

“I see them,” Warren said. “Just keep going!” You watched as a woman in a red mini-van drove past, menacingly slow.

“Folks are friendly here in Cheyenne,” Doc said.

“Friendly ain’t the vibe I’m getting,” Warren said. “Let’s find Murphy and get the hell out of Dodge.”

“Cheyenne,” Doc corrected her colloquialism.

“Whatever.” You continued to warily eye the groups of bounty hunters nearby. “Okay,” Warren continued, “so we all need to think like Murphy. Get inside his zombified head, and I know that’s a scary place to be, but where would you hide if you were Murphy?” You crinkled your nose and squinted your eyes as you looked around for any sign of him.

“Hey, hold on!” 10K called out. Mack slowed the four-wheeler to a stop, and 10K pointed to the building across the street. “You say think like Murphy?”

“Hell, they might as well have his picture on the sign,” Doc joked as you looked to where 10K had pointed. The sign above the door read “LIVE NUDE GIRLZ,” indicating it was a strip club. You rolled your eyes and followed Warren as she led you all inside.

Inside, you found just about what you had expected. It was a dingy, shithole of a club with a filthy bar and zombie patrons. Murphy was sitting at the bar, decked out in a patterned, gold suit and fedora combo. “Hey guys,” he said while nonchalantly taking a sip of his beverage. “What the hell took you so long?”

“Murphy, you son of a bitch.” You were glad someone said it. So was Doc.

“Now, now, Roberta, is that any way to talk to an old friend?” Murphy asked as he stood up. Warren slammed him up against the bar counter. The zombies stirred, ready to attack whenever Murphy said the word. He didn’t, though—say the word. Instead, he calmed them down before turning back to Warren and saying, “That hurt.”

“Oh,” Warren said, still holding him steady, “I’m just getting started.”

When Doc tried to pull her off Murphy, she pushed the older man back. “Now, come on, Chief,” Doc said. “Hey. Don’t forget the mission. Come on.” This seemed to reach Warren as she let go of the now blue-skinned man, shoving him once more as she did so.

“You damn near got us killed,” she told him, a venom in her voice that you were glad to not be on the receiving end of. “And you did kill millions of other people.” You had yet to think about the aftermath of Murphy setting off those nukes, and the number nearly sent you spiraling.

“Didn’t you get the memo?” Murphy asked, unbothered as he straightened his flamboyant suit. “The Apocalypse means never having to say you’re sorry.”

“That’s bullshit,” you muttered angrily. This was the man who had let your friend die. He either didn’t hear you or willfully ignored you as he continued ranting about how important he was. Egotistical bastard.

“If you want to blame somebody,” he said, “blame that nutjob, Doctor Kurian. Or your little buddy, Citizen Z.” You rolled your eyes and fingered the handle of a knife, sheathed in your sash. 10K was obviously thinking something similarly to you—violent thoughts, directed towards the so-called savior of humanity.

“Maybe we should tie you up, for your own good,” 10K threatened. He began to approach Murphy when a Z came out from the shadows and ran towards him, blocking him from getting any closer. The Z growled and hissed, almost feral. It was dressed scantily in a gold bra/boy short two piece, with spiderweb fishnet stockings and a faux-fur coat. You were so distracted by the outfit that you didn’t notice its face until 10K said, “Cassandra.” You pushed closer to the two of them as 10K took her into a hug that she did not reciprocate.

“Cass?” you asked. You couldn’t believe your eyes. It was really her. “You’re alive.” She sighed erratically against him, and 10K pulled back.

“Cassandra?” he said, unsure this time. He held her face, and you were able to finally get a good look. She didn’t look like herself. Her hair was disheveled and loose, not like the usual neat ponytail she kept it in. Her eyes were wild and full of something you didn’t understand—something familiar and similar to Murphy’s eyes. The mark you had seen on her cheek in Fort Collins was more visible to you now; it looked like a bite mark.

“What did you do to her?” you demanded, your head whipping to Murphy. You approached him and shoved a finger into his chest. “Did you bite her?”

“I saved her life,” he said. “What did you do?” He poked you back. You flattened both palms against his chest and pushed him. The nearby zombies growled in your direction. Cassandra—the new version of Cassandra—broke herself out of 10K’s loosening grasp and turned towards you, hissing and growling.

“I’m sorry,” Addy interrupted before things could escalate any further. “What is she wearing? Is that mildly impractical for the apocalypse?” she asked sarcastically.

As Cassandra backed up towards Murphy, hunched over and watching you all predatorily, he said, “You try dressing a classy lady in Cheyenne, Wyoming.” He grabbed her and pulled her close to his side as if claiming her.

“You’re a perverted pimp bastard,” you snapped at him. He squinted his eyes at you, pointed a finger in your face, and was promptly cut off by Doc before he could say anything.

“Hey, is anybody else concerned that there’s all these Z’s standing around here?”

“Don’t worry, they’re friendly,” Murphy said. “As long as I’m friendly,” he shot you a look, and the Z’s all turned to look at you.

Before you could pull out your hammer and chuck the teeth-end into his skull, Warren sighed and spoke up. “Come on, Murphy,” she said. “We got to get you to California.”

“Yeah, about California,” Murphy said. You ignored him and watched Cassandra as she stared into nothingness, completely void of any life or any proof that she was still herself. “You know,” he said, drawing your attention back to him, “after everything that happened—the nukes and all—”

“Which you set off,” you interrupted him with a growl.

He paid you no mind and continued, “I’m not so sure I’m down with the whole ‘saving humanity’ thing. I’m not so sure humanity is worth saving.”

“You’re going to California,” Warren said.

“You don’t even know if California is still there,” he countered.

“Well, look,” Doc said, “if you won’t do it for humanity, do it for yourself, Murphy. You need that vaccine more than anybody. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You may be stylin’, but you’re turning zombie, brother.”

“Brother?” Murphy asked. “Maybe there are worse things than being a zombie.” You knew there were. Whatever Murphy had turned Cassandra into was worse. It was something she had explicitly let you know that she would rather die than be. “Maybe,” he continued, “being a starving, fearful, violent, vindictive human is worse.” His scowl flipped into a smile. “But hey! It is the apocalypse! Let’s have some fun. Let me show you what I’ve been working on.” He clapped and turned around to lead your group farther into the strip club. “Come on, grab a seat. You’re gonna love this.” He approached the stage but turned around and dropped his smile when he realized none of you had followed him. “The apocalypse will still be waiting for us when we’re done!” he shouted. He ordered Cassandra to start the generator out back, and she followed.

Sitting at the bar, your group watched as a spotlight shone on the stage, and Murphy presented whatever it was he wanted to show you all. On stage with him was a stripper pole.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, “let’s hear it for the one, the only, Chantrelle.” He left the stage as Cassandra started to play some slow-going song on a record. Disgusted, you all watched as a Z, dressed in what you assumed was a stripper’s outfit, came onto stage and began to swing on the pole. There was no rhythm to her movements—she was as stiff as one would expect a zombie stripper to be.

“Well,” Doc said, “I hope she ain’t working for tips.” Your mood was too sour to joke, so you just watched with a sneer. Your gaze shifted once more to Cassandra, and you could see her eyes were glued to the stage, enraptured.

You turned and saw that 10K was watching the Z with a piqued interest. You nudged him in the side with your elbow, and he looked to you with a grimace and a shrug of his shoulders as he rubbed the place you had elbowed him. You just rolled your eyes at him.

“Murphy,” Warren warned.

“I know, right? Wait, it gets better,” he said. The zombie stripper continued to spin, going faster and faster the more she spun. Your eyes were wide as you watched her, and just the sight made you dizzy. Eventually, her spinning became too much, and her arm was ripped off. The Z went flying off the stage as her arm continued to spin down the pole. “Ta-da!” Murphy shouted. “I know, I know, the finale needs a little work. But hey, let’s hear it for Chantrelle!” He laughed to himself, but none of you were smiling.

“You’re sick,” you called out to him.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned. Suddenly, the sound of clapping came from somewhere to your right. Your head snapped that way, and you saw a man in a bullet-proof vest come out from the shadows. All of you stood at attention, ready to fight if it came down to it.

“Is this a private show or can anybody watch?” he asked. As you went to grab a hammer from it’s spot hanging from your pants’ loop, Addy reached for her Z-whacker. The man, instantly on high alert, pulled his automatic on you. “Ah, ah, ah,” he warned. “Leave your weapons right where they are.” You unwrapped your fingers from around the handle. “Don’t make me have to shoot anybody. There’s enough zombies in this world already.”

“What do you want?” Murphy asked, clearly not expecting the intrusion.

“Your name wouldn’t happen to be Murphy, would it?” the stranger asked. A thick silence overtook the lot of you. Whatever Murphy said next would determine what this man did with you.

“Nope.”

Clearly not believing the bluff for one second, the man said, “A lot of people looking for you, Mr. Murphy.”

“That so?” Murphy asked, immediately dropping the act.

“This man,” Warren started, moving in front of you and 10K with her hands raised in surrender, “he’s our prisoner.”

“Well, he’s my prisoner now.”

“Uh, no, sorry,” Doc said. “She’s right. We got dibs on him.”

“Yeah, and we’re taking him to California,” Addy added.

“No, you’re not,” the stranger said. “He’s coming with me.”

“Where?” Murphy asked, cocky as ever.

“To the highest bidder. CDC in California aren’t the only ones willing to pay for his blood.”

“Why does everybody always talk about me like I am not standing right here?” Murphy said, “You know, there’s only one problem with all of your plans for The Murphy. I ain’t going anywhere with any of you. Hit it!” he told Cassandra, who started the music up once more. Disco lights and lasers and smoke from a fog machine confused you all as Murphy made his getaway. The so-far passive zombies rose and began to approach the group of you, snarling.

As Warren and the stranger began shooting, the rest of you killed as many Z’s as you could. One grabbed hold of 10K, but he swiftly piked it with his hunting knife. Another Z, dressed in just a sparkly, American flag bra and denim shorts, pawed at your jacket, but you smashed her skull in before she could really touch you. 10K killed three in a row by throwing billiard balls directly at their heads. An undead man, dressed in a trucker hat and a wife-beater that stretched across what would have been a beer belly if his intestines weren’t spilling out from it, was able to grab ahold of your necklace. It pulled you in close, gnawing and gnashing its teeth, trying to get a bite. You struggled against it, pushing and pulling in a messed-up game of tug-of-war. You shoved it back towards the stage, and the backs of its knees collided with the side of it. It collapsed, and you were able to pike it.

As the chaos continued, Murphy and Cassanda were making a quick getaway. You watched as the strange man ran after them. The rest of you continued to kill any Z that got in your way, until you realized that Warren was nowhere to be seen. You followed after where Murphy, Cassandra, and the stranger had gone, and you and the rest of the group found Warren being held against the wall by a zombie that had her by the throat.

10K took action, grabbing the fire extinguisher nearby and shouting, “Look out!” He rammed the long nozzle into the Z, and Warren was able to escape its clutches. You watched in awestruck horror as 10K let loose the fire suppressant inside the extinguisher, inside the Z. The zombie puffed up like a balloon before exploding in a cascade of rotten flesh and extinguishing fluids.

Luckily, most of it got on your jacket which you were able to easily wipe off. The stuff in your hair was much harder to clean out. As you left the building, 10K offered you his spare cloth so that you could wipe yourself down. The rest of the group did the same.

“What do we do now, chief?” Doc asked Warren. Mack opened his duffel and allowed you all to take what you needed—weapons, ammo, and the like.

“I made a promise to a little girl,” Warren said, referencing the family that had taken her in and fed her when you had been separated, “and I’m gonna keep it.” As the boys grabbed from the bag, you took inventory of your knives and hammers, cleaning the latter of white goo. “We are going to find Murphy, get him to California, and they’re going to make a vaccine and save the world. And I’m going to kill any bounty hunter that gets in my way.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Addy said.

“Any idea which way Murphy went?” 10K asked as he handed you a carton of bullets for your barely used pistol. You took them with a grimace of a smile. The sound of tires squealing stole your attention. You looked to the road and saw the red minivan from earlier, driving way too fast.

“He went that way,” Warren deduced. You followed her as she charged after the van that would lead you to Murphy. You were going to find that son of a bitch.

Chapter Twelve: White Light OR Flesh Wound

#fanfic #x reader #z nation #10k z nation #10k z nation x reader #10k x reader #fem reader #no use of y/n #puppy love #Chapter Eleven: The Murphy OR Start Over Again #cross posted on ao3 #x fem!reader

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