10K Tuesday will be a bunch of short stories about 10K and Reader. A song will be listed above the chapter and a story that goes with the lyric will be wrote below. It can be an AU! or in the apocalypse. Don't be shy! This book will be updated every...
Lyrics: Dancing through our house.. chase it down with a shot of truth.. found that old Zepplin shirt..
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He couldn't leave her. Not now, not ever.
By morning time of that night, the two found themselves tangled in each other's embraces. A sort of protection veil fell onto the two when they were in the same bed as the other. Since that night, either Tommy went to (Y/N)'s bed for comfort, or (Y/N) went to Tommy's bed for rest.
|| Three Months Later: Nine Months Later ||
Her movements didn't disturb his resting. It wasn't the door of his bedroom unlocking, or the opening up of the bathroom door down the hallway that disturbed his rest either. It was her voice.
It was her gagging and the contents of her stomach being released into the white toilet bowl. It was her soft cries as her stomach cramped from all the tension in her abdomen.
Those ratchet sounds made him sit straight up in their shared bed, panicking by hearing only the sound of her distress. Even though he knew where she'd be located, he still looked to her side of the bed, only to see it was missing her.
Hastily, he removed himself from underneath the covers and jogged to the bathroom.
'Why didn't she just use my bathroom?' Tommy questioned, not understanding her reason for traveling so far when she was sick.
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When he turned the corner, entering the hallway's bathroom, he saw that his lover's face was down in the bowl with her back arched and her neck tensed. His heart hurt at the sight, not noticing the discoloration being removed from her system.
He rushed to her side without a second's thought. He dropped to his knees from behind her, wrapping his long, slender fingers in her hair to make a ponytail with the strands. This way the soft locks would stay away from the vile.
"Hey, it's okay. Let it out." He encouraged, rubbing her spine softly.
Throwing up wasn't a symptom of turning into a zombie, so that relieved him instantly; little did he know. (Y/N) only threw up two more times before she finally felt a little relief from her nausea.
Tommy leaned away from her for a second to grab one of their rags from the shower. Once he got it damp, he went back to his first patient. Yet, his movements faltered when he saw the blood on her chin and smeared onto her (S/C) cheeks.
Her skin was paler and she might as well be mistaken for a Z.
"Fuck." Tommy muttered under his breath, quickly dabbing the crimson liquid from her face.
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