grip tap

Voltron Workout

Thanks @sniperlance for giving me the confidence I needed to post this.

This is a workout I’ve been doing, and even though it hasn’t been long, I can feeI and notice the difference. Also, if you have any questions on any of these workouts/poses, just shoot me an ask and I’ll do a video/have a picture of me doing it/explain it for ya. Warm ups are the same as cool downs, so just repeat them when you’re done working out. (Also, I apologize for the formatting, at the moment I don’t have a computer so I’m doing this from the mobile app. I’ll try to fix it when I have one again.)

AND HEY!! DON’T BE AFRAID TO TAKE A BREAK AND GET A DRINK OF WATER OR SOMETHING IN THE MIDDLE OF IT OKAY? YOU ARE NOT IMMORTAL!! PLEASE, IF YOU FEEL TIRED SIT DOWN AND GET BACK UP WHENEVER YOU ARE READY!!!


~Monday’s are dedicated to Keith. We all want to be able to swing a sword like him, so we gotta work on our upper body.

~Sun Salutation
~Warm Up
–Bicep Stretches
–Neck Stretches
–Shoulder Stretches
–Tricep Stretches
–Reverse Butterfly
~Workout
–20 squat chops
–10 wide grip push ups
–10 cross punch sit ups
–20 bodyweight bicep curls
–10 chest squeezes
–10 side choppers
–20 elbow strikes
–20 archers
–10 knife hand strikes
–push ups until failure
~Cool Downs


Tuesday’s are dedicated to Pidge. If you’re using your computer typing up code all the time, you gotta work those hand out so that you don’t get arthritis. We are also going to work on our abs and back because being hunched over all the time is not good for you.

~Moon Salutation
~Warm Up
–Open And Close Fingers
–Wrist Stretches
–Scorpion Pose
–Pigeon Pose
–Cobra Pose
~Workout
–50 open and close hands
–40 sitting twists
–20 clench and relax guard
–40 knee to elbow sit ups
–30 bridges
–30 finger taps
–20 windshield wipers
–10 thumb roll and taps
–10 plank arm raises
–elbow plank until failure
~Cool Down


Wednesdays are dedicated to Hunk. He’s super strong in the upper body, but as a leg of Voltron he also needs to be sturdy and stable, so his is an all around workout, working on both the upper and lower body.

~Sun Salutation
~Warm Up
–Bow Fold
–Child’s Pose
–Figure Four Stretch
–Warrior Side Lotus
–Forward Wide Bend
~Workout
–30 jump knee tucks
–10 plank leg raises
–4 raised leg push ups
–20 side jack knives
–20 lunge punches
–20 squat kicks
–10 air bike crunches
–20 Turkish get-ups
–10 plank jump-ins
–diver push ups until failure
~Cool Down


Thursday’s are dedicated to Lance. He’s also a leg of Voltron, but he had some miiiighty fine legs, and really, who wouldn’t want them? And you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t want all of us to have nice tone butts, so today is leg and glute workouts.

~Moon Salutation
~Warm Up
–Figure Four Stretch
–Butterfly
–Warrior I
–Reverse Warrior
–Camel Pose
~Workout
–40 side leg raises
–10 reverse crunches
–10 jumping lunges
–30 high knees
–20 long arm crunches
–25 sumo death squats
–20 roundhouse kicks
–15 hop heel clicks
–20 balance side lunges
–crunch kicks until failure
~Cool Down


Fridays are dedicated to Shiro. Mmmmmm boy, does he have some NICE biceps. So today we gotta be able to one up him with ours by doing some arm and upper body workouts.

~Sun Salutation
~Warm Up
–Half Lotus
–Butterfly Fold
–Bicep Stretch
–Tricep Stretch
–Cat/Cow
~Workout
–20 side lunge chops
–40 raised arm circles
–20 bridge taps
–10 plank shoulder taps
–10 raised leg push ups
–30 wood choppers
–10 sit up punches
–40 punches
–10 thigh taps
–wide grip push ups until failure
~Cool Down


Saturday is dedicated to Coran. He wouldn’t want us to push ourselves too hard, so today is yoga. Thanks Uncle Coran!!

~Moon Salutation
~Poses
–Down Dog
–Three Legged Dog
–Warrior I
–Warrior II
–Reverse Warrior
–Reverse Plank
–Bridge Pose
–Locust Pose
–Child’s Pose
–Corpse Pose


Sunday is dedicated to Allura. Not only should we work on our physical strength, but our mental as well, so today is also yoga.

~Sun Salutation
~Poses
–Half Moon
–Tree Pose
–Eagle Pose
–Wheel Pose
–Extended Triangle Pose
–Bow Pose
–Fish Pose
–Child’s Pose
–Corpse Pose


Don’t forget that some of the most important parts of being fit, is eating heathly, drinking lots of water, and knowing your limits. You won’t see results right away, keep in mind that it’s okay if you can’t do the until failure things for long. This is a hard workout and it’s meant to push you as far as you can go. Don’t overwork yourself, okay guys?

anonymous asked:

I was wondering if you could write a smut where Jimin is a cute very shy nerd friend but that has always turned you on. One day you meet up with him at a library, when you get there, a couple of guys are teasing him and you decide to walk up to Jimin and kiss him so the guys will stop and leave. He started your one on one tutoring session but you couldn't concentrate so you get up drag him to the restroom and that's when you realize he's not so shy after all ;) -p.s. I love your work

Tutor Session: 

“Y/N? Pay attention.” Jimin chuckled ruffling the girl’s hair as he brought her from a daze.

“Mmm sorry Jimin I didn’t mean to.” She smiled sheepishly leaning forward to kiss his nose. 

“Are we still on to study in a minute?” He asked her standing up to put his stuff into his backpack.

“Of course cutie, just let me get my stuff from my locker and I’ll meet you there ok?” She replied calmly getting her stuff ready and they both said goodbye to each other that sweet smile lingering on Jimn’s lips.

The girl walked towards her locker in a daze, sighing softly to herself she played with the knob putting the combo into the locker and opening it she switched out her books and grabbed a notepad sighing as she rested her head against the locker. She had been day dreaming about Jimin the whole time she was with him. Trying to work on math problem because she was struggling with that subject the most. But god, to her Jimin was so cute, with his adorable puckered cheeks whenever he concentrated or how his eyebrows furrowed together and he bit on his lips and he worked out problems. But the problem was he was her best friend and she couldn’t just jump on him. He was shy and he didn’t really react much to her teasing before hand even though it was subtle. 

Shaking herself off, she shut her locker with a loud groan stomping her way towards the library still in a daze. Thinking about sitting on his lap and kissing his lips, playing in his smooth brown hair. Her steps carried her slowly one foot in front of the other. Thoughts still running wild in her head, how his college uniform clung to his body  He was such a sinful being to watch and she didn’t know if he even knew what he was doing to her or if she just couldn’t keep hiding her hormones for too long. 

“Hey! You hear us talking to you Jimin-ah~” Snapping out of her thoughts, the girl looked around the library walking in deeper to find the male. She walked behind a row of books to see Jimin surrounded by a group of men taunting him and teasing him. “Where is your girlfriend? Oh that’s right you don’t have one because you’re a pussy.” One man called out pushing at Jimin’s chest. And poor Jimin he just sat there letting them do it, balling his fist up and staring straight ahead trying to avoid them. 

She sat there and watched for a bit as Jimin got teased and fucked with by those assholes before it pissed her off. She couldn’t let her best friend get picked with, because that wouldn’t make her a good friend at all. So doing what she could only think about she walked forward with her head held high, her heels pressing down against the floor. 

“Yah, there you are Jimin-ah.” She smiled sweetly walking around the group of guys towards the male who went from looking red in the face and very pissed off to a bit relieved and happy. 

“Y/N-” He spoke her name but before he could utter out anything else she pressed her lips harshly against his softly nipping on his bottom lip she sat her back down letting a hand travel up into his hair pulling on the soft brown locks, she kissed him until she released a soft moan feeling his tongue poke out against her bottom lip. Pulling back she braced her forehead against his, cheeks lighting up the color of scarlet, the room seemed to be getting smaller and much hotter. 

“Hope I didn’t keep you long jagi.” She muttered out pulling back letting her body stand up straight. Turning towards the three boys looking at her in shock one of them avoiding her gaze as they shifted. 

“If you don’t mind, my boyfriend and I need to study now, and since I am a pet of the librarian lady, I doubt you’d want me to call her right?” She asked with a hard tight smile across her lips that didn’t reach her eyes. 

“She won’t believe you. It’s not like you have proof so run along little girl and let grown men talk.” One redheaded male spoke to her, but before the girl could respond back to him a woman with soft gray and black hair, big round glasses and soft brown oval eyes stepped beside her. She had on a long black floral dress to her ankles and black high heels on her feet.

“Gentlemen, I will have to remind you that this is a library not some circus act. So please leave right now, or I will have to call campus police.” The woman stated softly as she looked at each of the men. “Now run along.” She sent them off flicking her hands forward until they were going out of the library.

“Thank  you so much Mrs. Choi.” The girl smiled softly bowing her head before she went to sent down on the other side of Jimin. The librarian walked off after making sure they were ok moving towards the front and turning to Jimin the girl smiled widely at her friend. 

“Are you ready to study?” She asked softly.

“Are we not going to talk about how you pressed your lips against mine?” Jimin asked tapping his pen against his notebook letting his gaze flicker onto the girl, but something in his eyes made her heart clench. She didn’t know what to call it and she didn’t want to talk about it so she shook her head. 

“No let’s not address it until after we are done with our homework, I really need help with this problem but yes Jimin we will address it when we are done.” Smiling at him, she reached down for her backpack opening it up she placed her book out on the table opening it up wide. She gripped at her pencil tapping it against her notebook like Jimin had just done a second ago.

“Okay.. Let’s start with this one..” Jimin muttered out reaching over her shoulder to point at a math problem. 

She sighed softly to herself, starting to do the hard ass math problem. She chewed on her bottom lips, trying to think of the steps that Jimin had taught her how to do on the previous problem and she tried to focus on the problem at hand. She wanted to do good. She found herself not focusing however, because she just couldn’t shake off the feel of kissing his lips. How he tasted. Jimin was a good kisser, and she did not know that. She didn’t know that her best guy friend knew how to make her heart flutter. 

“Are you alright?” Jimin asked softly leaning over to press a hand against her shoulder. 

“Y-yeah?” She said softly looking at him. 

“It’s just you just stopped working and you didn’t even start the problem just doodling.” He pointed out at a problem as her eyes shifted back and forward. 

“I can’t concentrate.” She admitted to herself and him both, her legs crossing as the wetness started to seep into her panties. 

“What’s wrong Y/N?” Jimin asked softly gripping at her shoulder. 

“You.. And you are going to help me fix it.” The girl said slowly letting her eyes linger on him. She couldn’t fight it anymore- no she needed Jimin and she needed him now. Standing up she gripped at his wrist walking towards the back of the library and through a exit towards a set of bathrooms into the hallway. 

She opened the door up to the girl’s bathroom and pushed him inside towards the wall. Lips crashing against his she kissed him harshly, wanting to feel those plump lips back against her own. To her shock Jimin started to kiss her back, hands moving up to grip at her hips, he let one hand slip up between the valley of her breast, up her neck to grip at her hair tugging it back harshly while his mouth devoured hers. 

He moved his legs to place on leg in between her two, his thigh pressing against her crotch. The hand on her hip started to move her up and down his thigh, making her grind against it. A smirk on his lips because she was already wet and soaking through her panties. His tongue slithered into her mouth, sucking on the wet pink muscle he fought her for dominance, his hand slipping down towards her ass cheek to grip the plump flesh tightly smacking his ass repeatedly. 

He flicked his tongue against the roof of her mouth, letting his spit mix with hers until they were both breathless and he had to pull back to stare down at the girl. Full lips that were bruising, flushed out cheeks and hair that was becoming disheveled. How hot she looked grinding against his thigh rolling her hips and softly begging for more.

“I’m going to fuck you like a little slut. I hope you know that. But this is just a quickie for now. I’ll ruin you later.” He picked her up moving you towards a bathroom stall. He shut the door slowly, moving back he only unzipped his pants slowly eyeing her with a wink as the zipper slowly moved down his pants. He pulled his member from his pants letting it spring free slapping the bottom of his stomach. 

He grabbed at her hips and pulling her close he slipped her panties to the side. Lifting her up he wrapped her legs around his waist, letting his tip brush against the wet pussy waiting to be taken. He ground his hips back and forth letting his dick get wet and covered with her juices before slowly slipping into her. He sat down on the toilet seat starting to slowly bounce her up and down on his shaft, watching how he slipped into her. 

“Hold your skirt baby girl.” He rasped out watching as the girl gripped the hems of her skirt holding it up so that he could see it better. His hips snapping against hers harder and harder both of them gasping and relishing in the pleasure. His dick throbbed as he felt the warm walls squeezing around his dick. She was so fucking wet and the noises she was making didn’t help him either. How her breast bounced even in her bra made him fuck her harder, knowing he could only do so much because people were bound to come in. And as if on cue the door opened and it sounded like a group of girls walked in. 

He stopped moving only to pick her up and press her against the stall. A hand covering over her mouth because he knew she would be loud, he started to grind his dick in and out of her dripping slick walls, winding his hips up against her. His eyes bore into hers, his glasses fogging up from the heat that was going on between them. His thighs spread her legs wide as he continued to push his dick deep inside of her, switching angles until he found out where her spot was. Deep and slow he fucked her, trying to keep a steady pace but she felt so good and he was so close. He leaned in to press his mouth against her neck sucking harshly on the skin to create a hickey as he got closer and closer. 

Her walls convulsed around him and she knew she was close, grinding her hips down to press against his she meet his thrusts more so when he was pushing against her spot. She felt the pit of her stomach start to clench and tighten and that was when she released giving Jimin everything she had. She sucked on one of his fingers, letting her hands fist his shirt as she came. She was so spent thighs trembling around his waist. It took mere seconds for Jimin to follow suit groaning he pulled back lifting her up in the air as he turned towards the toilet and let his cum shoot out into the toilet. Kissing on her lips slowly to bring them both down from their high and let them relax he held her close letting his hands work and massage on her thighs as the girls left out the room. 

“If you act like a good girl, and do your work with me then I’ll fuck you nice and hard when we get back to my place.” Jimin muttered against her lips. 

“Is that a promise?” She asked him softly, nuzzling their noses.

“Oh baby, I think I need this more than you.” He chuckled sitting her down and helping them dress up.

❝ You’re the best, dad. ❞

Plot: Jaebum and his two twins are the new “trio” of the reality “The Return of Superman”

Words count: 2,2k+

Pairing: Fluff, Fluff, Fluff

For anon, I hope you like it cutie! - M. 

Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner! ♥

P.S. I’ve never seen this reality, so I hope I’ve made “justice” to reality / “Mami” is a sweet nickname for “Mom”


“Appaaaaaaaaaaa!”  

“Babe… Wake up.”  

A tired groan made your son laugh but you were well away from being happy. You knew perfectly what day it was and the idea of staying alone with both your children scared you slightly.  

Especially since it was the first time. You still couldn’t understand how your manager had succeeded, aided by your beautiful, sweet and cheating wife, to become part of the cast of “Return of Superman”. Because you kept, after four years, to hold you a bad father. You were often absent for work and you had lost every moment really important.  

You couldn’t imagine that but your twins, the little Jaesi and Wonwoo, loved you in an unconditional way and rejoiced for every little moment that you spent together.  

“They’ve already prepared the cameras and I have to go, Jaebum..” The sweetness in your wife’s voice forced you to open your eyes and her hair gently tickle your face.  

“At least it’s an easy task?”  

“The easiest love, promised.” She murmured, just touching your lips with a little peck.  

“APPPPPPPPA!”  

“I’m awake Jaesi, I’m awake princess.” Immediately the sweet weight of your daughter took your breath away since she had thrown herself with all her strength on your chest, but those little attentions were able to banish your grumpy side in less than a few seconds.  

If you were to admit that you were incredibly softened by the day you found out that your wife was pregnant, but you were always trying to show some detachment because otherwise she would start teasing you and you couldn’t bear it.  

“Are you quite presentable to get out of the bedroom..?”  

“I’ll make myself prepared by Jaesi, she’s very good at setting up Appa’s hair, right?”  

The youngest of the house started hopping on the bed due to her suddenly joy, while the amused look of your wife made you smile and you followed her with your eyes when she stepped out of your room.  

The door remained open and after a few minutes a sleepy and grumpy, he had taken everything from you as you always repeated, Wonwoo made his entrance and climbed on the bed.  

He hid his face between the pillows and you watched him smiling, resting your head again on your pillow and starting to gently caress his back.  

“Appa I want to sleep…”  

“Me too Wonwoo, me too..” You whispered accomplice, turning around on your back and taking him in your arms letting him laid on you. One of the things you most loved was that, staying in bed and cuddling them until you were able to feel your cheeks hurt because of the too much smiling.  

Immediately he curled against you and you could feel that he had started to suck his finger since you had recently started trying to make him stop the pacifier.  

“App–why is he here? I had to make you beautiful! ”  

“Don’t get upset, a long day expect us and you’ve to be good with your appa….”  

“We shall see, pft.” She snorted and stepped out of the room leaving you grounded and making you realize that those forty-eight hours would have been incredibly, frightfully endless.  

Keep reading

“Redemption” - Tamlin

@hermajestymanon I shall win this war. 


Feyre’s eyes snapped as magic slammed into her forehead. She was falling, falling an impossible distance. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she wasn’t sure who caught her. 

Feyre gasped, blinking slowly. “Tamlin?” Feyre whispered, staring into his bright green eyes, his eyebrows pinched in concentration. Feyre could feel the waves of magic vibrating around them, she could feel an evil, stronger magic pushing against Tamlin’s. 

“It would help if you stood up, beautiful” Tamlin gave her a crooked smile, thick blood slipping out of his mouth. Feyre rolled to the side, landing in a crouch. “I have your back,” Tamlin grunted and he let the shield fall, just as Feyre sliced out with her own magic. 

“Move,” Tamlin urged her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He half dragged, half carried Feyre down a long corridor, his blood still dripping out of his mouth. More blood slid from his nostrils, but he kept moving. 

“Tamlin. Tamlin, we can’t leave them!” Feyre shouted, crying out in agony when she put too much pressure on her right leg. Tamlin swore and he leaned Feyre against the wall, handing her his blade. 

“I never planned on leaving them. Give me some credit, Feyre” Tamlin shoved his hands outward, a wave of magic rippling through the corridor, tearing it apart. The ceiling fell. Tamlin grunted and he looked down at Feyre. “Stay” 

Feyre heard his back crack. Tamlin tilted his head back and roared and Feyre covered her eyes as a beam of bright light flashed before her. When she looked back, Tamlin was gone, but she saw the shadow of a beast on the walls. 

Feyre blinked slowly, gripping Tamlin’s blade and her own Illyrian one. She breathed through her mouth, trying to understand where everything went wrong. So, so wrong. Who had betrayed them? Did someone even betray them? Or was the King always one step ahead? 

Was the King always one step ahead even with Tamlin helping them? 

Feyre went still when she heard footsteps. She forced herself to her feet and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Tamlin, burdening the weight of three grown Illyrians on his body. 

The beast’s front leg shook, then snapped, causing Tamlin to fall. Azriel and Cassian moaned as one, falling on their sides. Feyre scrambled to her feet, helping Rhys up, putting his weight over her shoulders. She gripped his arm, staring down at Tamlin. 

Move” Tamlin grunted, before he stood up. His arm hung loosely at his side, but the High Lord slammed it against the wall, and Feyre cringed as he knocked it back into place. “Feyre, cover our rear. Protect their wings” 

Feyre blinked slowly. The Tamlin before her was something new, something different. Feyre remembered when Rhys told her about how he and Cassian and Azriel had trained with Tamlin, how the four of them had become something like brothers. Feyre wondered how many times Tamlin had protected their wings. There was so much she still didn’t understand about their pasts together. 

Tamlin bent down and he picked up Azriel, grunting, and placing the Illyrian on his back. Feyre didn’t want to ask how Tamlin could bear his weight, on top of letting Cassian lean against him. Her legs were shaking with just supporting Rhys. 

“Am I being saved by Tamlin?” Cassian whispered, his eyes dazed and unfocused. Tamlin gave a droll half grin, blood still coating his teeth. 

“I owe you a few” Was all the male said, before he started walking. Azriel, balanced on one shoulder, his limp body pressing into Tamlin’s back, his wings hanging, unmoving. Cassian, his legs leaving a trail of blood, arm wrapped around Tamlin. Rhys, helping Feyre more than she was helping him. All of them, beaten, broken, in pain, dying. And Tamlin was bearing their weight, helping them escape. 

“Why?” Feyre whispered. She sent a wave of magic behind her blindly, hoping it would delay their attackers. “Why are you saving us?” Feyre whispered. Tamlin turned his head, his eyes narrowed. 

“Ask them when you all make it out alive” Tamlin grunted, shifting his shoulders so Azriel wouldn’t fall. He continued to walk, his legs buckling each time. Feyre doubted they would make it. She didn’t know how long Tamlin could hold two Illyrians, she didn’t know how long she could hold off an enemy she couldn’t see. 

“Feyre, go” Rhys whispered, pointing forward. Feyre noticed the thick closed door. Tamlin stood by it, gently leaning Cassian against the wall, then slid Azriel from his back. He gripped Azriel’s face and tapped his cheek gently, mumbling under his breath. 

Tamlin stepped away from Azriel, before pushing the door open as far as he could. He braced his back against it and Feyre watched as his legs grappled for purchase, the door pushing against him, as well. Tamlin reached out, grabbing Cassian’s forearms. Cassian swore heavily as Tamlin dragged him across the floor, and pulled him into the darkness. Tamlin now only used his leg to keep the doorway open, pulling Azriel in after Cassian. His face was contorted in pain, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his skin. 

There was a shriek and Feyre stumbled into the wall, Rhys falling after her. The ground shook, the very castle shook. And Feyre was positive the entire island was shaking with the King’s rage, mixed with his beasts. 

Tamlin’s fingers linked with Rhys’s and he dragged the High Lord forward. Rhys seemed to be yelling something, almost pleading with his “enemy”, but Tamlin ignored him. He pulled Rhysand into the darkness next. 

Feyre lunged forward and Tamlin caught her as the castle shook again. The King’s monsters finally caught up to them. “You aren’t coming with us,” Feyre whispered. Tamlin’s arms slacked against her back, their noses almost touching. 

Not so long ago, they were in this embrace, because Feyre was lying to him. Pretending to love him; pretending, lying, being a spy. It was all the same. Not so long ago, Tamlin was a beast. A true, living, terrifying beast in the body of a man. What Feyre saw before her, was one of the best stories of change and redemption she would possibly ever know. She hoped to one day paint the story of Tamlin. 

A man who wasn’t born a beast, became a beast, and died a man. A good man. A good man who made mistakes, accepted those mistakes, and tried to make amends. A man who was using his life to save three Illyrians who had hated him for centuries. To save a girl who should have never entered his life anyway. 

“Do me a favor?” Tamlin whispered and Feyre nodded. She felt the same vibrations around them again. Tamlin had a shield that split the corridor in two, keeping the enemy forces at bay for as long as he could. “Remember me like this? You didn’t know me before, but, remember me as I am now?” 

Feyre took in his face and she pressed her hand tightly against his heart. Tamlin shuddered, knowing Feyre was pressing against his stone heart. She nodded once. Then she was flying and arms wrapped around her middle. Feyre didn’t think she would cry when Tamlin died, didn’t think she would fight for him. He hadn’t fought for her. But as Rhys held her back and as Tamlin stood on the other side, slowly pushing the door closed, she screamed. 

She tried to scramble forward, kicking at Rhys, scratching his arms. Tamlin had no right to make himself the sacrificial lamb, he had no right to choose when he died, he had no right to stand there, smiling sadly. 

He had no right to make himself a martyr. 

Feyre wanted him to live so she could punch him in the face for trading his life for theirs. 

“Tell my sister I said hello” Rhys said. Tamlin nodded, before the door closed in front of them, leaving them in darkness. Feyre cringed as she felt the walls shake, as she heard a roar, as Rhys dragged her down their escape route. Their only change at survival. 

Yes. 

She would keep her promise. Tamlin would be remembered as he was in his last moments. 


Tamlin roared as the door closed. He clenched his fists, baring his teeth at the King’s forces. He looked to his left and a girl stood beside him, smiling, joy in her eyes. She swung an Illyrian blade around, her eyes shining. 

“I knew the man I loved was still in there,” Chiara said. She took a step towards him, and grabbed his hand. She swung her blade again in her left hand, squeezing his own hand. “I love you”

“I love you too,” Tamlin laughed softly. “I missed you. They’re safe; your brothers are safe. Your wings…I kept them. I’m so sorry”

Chiara paused, her eyes twinkling like stars. “I know. It’s okay” She took a small breath “They’re alive because of you. Welcome to martyrdom, my love” 

“Is this what you felt like?” 

Chiara pulled him close, pressing their brows together. She swallowed softly, running her thumb down his cheek. “It isn’t such a hard decision to make. Your life for the one’s you love. Yes. This is what it felt like. It will be short, I promise” 

Tamlin nodded, swinging his own blade. 

Then Chiara ran forward and Tamlin ran after her, slicing through the beasts, right after she did. Her slices, her stabs, her kicks and jabs, did nothing. But Tamlin did as she did, taking down as many as he could, before he was overwhelmed. 

Tamlin was knocked onto his back, drowning in the sea of enemies, and he grunted. He head slammed against the floor, cracks spreading across the floor in his wake. He looked to his left one last time, and he saw Chiara standing over him, smiling. Her violet eyes were swimming with an emotion Tamlin couldn’t place. 

“I want to save you again. I don’t want you to die” Anguish. That was the emotion. But also…happiness? Possibly happiness, because they would be together again. 

“A little late for that, my star” They both bowed their heads, and then there was nothing for a long time. Tamlin was lost in an eternity of nothing, of everything, of nothing and everything. 

Then he opened his eyes, and there she sat. Under the night sky. Leaning back on her palms. 

Tamlin thought it was more than he deserved. But he would not question it. 

He walked forward and sat by his mate. Chiara leaned her head against his shoulder and their fingers intertwined, their joined hands resting on his knee. Tamlin pressed his lips against her forehead, nuzzling her hair. 

“Rhys says hello” 


World War Maas II continues. 

A few causalities have been reported. 

But the masses still stand.

Not for long. 

SVT and BTS reactions

-s/o having really long nails.

s.coups: Okay yeah he’s probably gonna be shocked and also loves them. He’s that boyfriend who will help you pick out nail colors, but also tells you to pick one you like.

Originally posted by breaknewcolors

jeonghan: Bitch he’s the sass queen. And he will either hate or love them. Theres no in between. But he’d also like attempt to paint designs on them.

Originally posted by visual-17

wonwoo: Boy just smiles. He honestly wouldn’t mind. “They are your nails, not mine.” Is his go to line which more often than not leads to his s/o being frustrated when asking for his opinion.

Originally posted by wonnhao


mingyu: Acts like puppy and asks you to scratch his back or his arm. 

Originally posted by wonnhao


vernon: Also loves them like Mingyu. Enjoys your little back scratches whenever you do them.

Originally posted by soniathearmycarat


seokmin: Doesn’t know what to think about them. Probably stares at them for the longest time without saying a word.

Originally posted by kwonhohsi


seungkwan: Divaboo is here. He’d stare at them blank faced before he perks up asking one question, “Can i pick out your next nail colors???”

Originally posted by winningwinwin


hoshi: Holds your hands in his and admires the nails at how nice and even and clean they are. 

Originally posted by royalkpop


joshua: Smiles and eagerly hands you his guitar. “You don’t even need a guitar pic just use your nails!” Easily entertained.

Originally posted by gyushua


woozi: Just stares at them for a bit until he grips your hand and taps the nails on the desk creating a unique beat.


Originally posted by mushimish

minghao: This boy would love them. He especially enjoys when you run them across his skin softly. He thinks it’s soothing.

Originally posted by performanceunit


jun: He too loves them. He likes the feeling of nails digging into his skin softly. 


Originally posted by withjunhui

dino: Smol baby doesn’t hate nor love them. He’s neutral about it.

Originally posted by livelovelunch

namjoon: He’s already thrusting a guitar into your hands and demanding you to play for him. He wants to know if nails are better than an actual guitar pic.


Originally posted by joonjuly


jin: This boy loves food, we all know that. So he’s probably gonna make your experiment with those long nails. “how much butter did you scoop?” “I don’t know its stuck under my nails now!”

Originally posted by bwiseoks


yoongi: Honestly he likes them when you two are hugging and you run them down his back softly. He likes the feeling of how soft they are.

Originally posted by seokjins-wings


jhope: LOVES THEM. back massages? you are using the nails. Hugs? using the nails. 

Originally posted by nnochu


jimin: Mochi doesn’t really mind, but he does wan’t to be that cute boyfriend who paints his s/o’s nails.

Originally posted by jimiyoong


taehyung: A mix of jhope, jimin, and yoongi.


Originally posted by jimiyoong


jungkook: He loves them. Tbh he’s the type to see if you can write with the tip of your nail.

Originally posted by narika-a


~A

anonymous asked:

37 pls !! x

Prompt 37: “I tried my best to not feel anything for you. Guess what? I failed.”

This one is a tad long! But not really


When you first entered the BAU and met the team, there was one individual who caught your eyes. Not only was he absolutely beautiful, but he was a genius. Dr. Spencer Reid.

You knew immediately that this man was going to be the apple of your eye ever since he had taken interest in you too. You found that the more time you two spent together, the more time you got closer to one another. Everyday you learn something new about him and everyday your feelings grow deeper. Everything about him was so effortlessly amazing and all you wanted to do was give him all the affection and support in the world.

After months of being in the BAU with him, it was safe to say the two of you were best friends - inseparable even. When one of you was stuck on something, the other one would be a fresh set of eyes and a flashlight in the dark. It was crazy how close you two have gotten and it even scares you just how much you had begun to actually fall for him. You knew it was going to happen eventually, but you didn’t want it to.

Spencer was your best friend, nothing more. You tried going on blind dates that your friend set up, always meeting the guy and him not meeting to your expectations which would lead to you not meeting the same guy twice. Every night you tried to convince yourself of this and every night you went to sleep thinking that was the last day you would have romantic feelings for him. However, that was short-lived when you woke up the next morning and everything came rushing back. Especially when he had accidentally slept over and you’d wake up then next morning and he’s across the room on a sofa, passed out and looking irresistible as ever. Then the feelings got worse when you two made messes in the kitchen trying to make breakfast.

Seeing as you and him are always together, your heart aches when he’s not around. Whether it be during work or outside, the two of you would always find a way to meet up together.

Even through all the blind dates, all the late night thinking, all the times it had seemed like Spencer would be nothing more than a friend - your heart still yearned for him.

You entered Quantico, bags in hand, and made your way over to your desk before dropping your things and heading over to the kitchenette to grab a cup of coffee.

Standing by the coffee pot was JJ and Spencer, conversing over something that seemed interesting. JJ had her eyebrows furrowed, listening to Spencer intently and then smiled from ear to ear.

“Finally!” You hear her say.

When you entered into the room, their conversation was immediately cut short and they both turned their attention towards you.

“Hey guys,” You smile, trying to hide the nervousness that was clawing from inside of you. “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing,” JJ trails off. “Just that Spencer has a little crush.”

The coffee pot in your hands nearly slipped out of your fingertips but you caught yourself and shoved it back into the machine causing hot coffee to splash all over you. Your blood ran cold and the room felt like it was spinning. Not from your minor injury, but from the major internal injury you felt in your heart. No, how could he like someone else?

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Spencer asks worriedly, rushing over to you and grabbing your burnt hand. JJ observes you curiously before announcing that she was going to grab a gauge for you to wrap your hand in. Spencer takes you over to the sink and turns on the tap, putting your hand underneath the cold water. “This should help with the swelling.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, biting on your lip to conceal your inner pain.

“Whats wrong?” Spencer asks. “You only bite on your lips when something is bothering you.”

“I just spilled boiling coffee all over my hand, Spencer,” you spat. Your harsh tone caused Spencer to flinch slightly. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly. Though he knows you’re lying, he chooses not to ask you again in fear of you getting more irritated.

“Are you done?” You ask curtly. “I have work to do.”

“Do you want an ice pack?” Spencer offers but you shake your head.

“No thanks, I’ll just get the bandage from JJ and call it a day,” you say before ripping your hand out from Spencer grip under the tap and wiping it off on your shirt. The skin was red and beginning to swell so you decided to focus on the physical pain rather than the emotional one.

You had spent the entire day at your desk, finishing off paperwork and chit chatting with your co-workers. Once it was finally time to leave, you gathered up your stuff and quickly made your way to the elevator to get yourself home as fast as possible. It was time for a movie and ice-cream out of the pint kind of night.

“Y/N!” Someone calls out. You turn around and see Spencer exiting out of the double glass doors to meet you at the elevator. “I’ve barely heard from you all day, do you need a ride home tonight?”

“No, I’m fine,” you say. “I drove myself today.”

“Oh.”

The doors slide open and you step inside, opting for the furthest corner in the elevator. Spencer enters behind you and you press the first floor button. After the doors close and less than five seconds later, Spencer slams his hand onto the emergency stop button and faces towards you.

“What the hell are you doing, Reid?” You ask incredulously, reaching towards the button. Spencer grabs ahold your hand to stop you.

“I need to know what is wrong, and you never call me ‘Reid’,” Spencer frowns.

“Let go of me,” you say through your teeth.

“This isn’t us, Y/N!” Spencer exclaims.

“There is no us, Spencer!” You yell slightly. “Why don’t you go bother the girl who apparently you have feelings for.”

“Is that what this is about?” Spencer quizzes.

“You know for someone with an IQ of 187, you really seem stupid right now if you just realized what I’m upset about.”

“And what makes you so upset about that?” He asks.

“I freaking love you!” You blurt out. The secret was finally out.“I tried my best to not feel anything for you. Guess what? I failed.”

“Well maybe if you talked to me today instead of ignoring me, you’d know that the woman I have feelings for is you,” Spencer confesses.

“What?”

“I was going to tell you tonight, but every time I tried you ran off or you ignored me,” Spencer trails off. “I can’t believe you never noticed how I’m falling in love with you.”

The two of you stood there in a relieving silence. Both of you registering what the other had said.

“You know, for profilers and one genius, we really sound dumb right now,” you break the silence.

You and Spencer let out a laugh, mostly of humor but also of disbelief. You had both been secretly head over heels with each other for a while and just now had you discovered. Spencer reaches from behind you and pressed the button for the elevator to go again.

“So, about that date,” You suggest, looking up at Spencer.

“I hope you’re not too tried because we’re going right now,” he smiles and takes your hand in his and lifting it towards his lips. He places a small kiss on the back of your hand and you smile brightly.

“Finally!”

You didn’t even notice the doors had opened, and there was JJ standing in the lobby with Penelope and Derek, all of them staring in your direction with large and teasing smiles.

“Great,” you sigh.

4. “I need you to stop doing that because it’s really adorable and I’m trying to concentrate.” with yoongi | 590

“Shi–Schnitzels,” Yoongi mutters under his breath.

His daughter, a rambunctious package of velcro sneakers and grass-stained t-shirt, giggles under Yoongi’s hold. “Daddy, did you almost say a bad word?”

Almost,” Yoongi remarks, one hand picking up the pigtail that fell loose a few seconds ago. “Hold still, princess,” he instructs, words mumbled through lips that held onto two hairties and three bobby pins. How does Y/N do this? With his other hand, he combs the loose strands back in.

“Is it hard, Daddy?” The little girl inquires, eyes entertained by the trouble in Yoongi’s. “Do you need help?”

“Daddy’s got it, sweetheart,” Yoongi tries his best to sound cool, calm, collected. “Just sit still for a little bit more, can you do that for me?”

Bad move.

As soon as his daughter nods, his previous work comes undone, fingertips now holding onto nothing but air. Yoongi sighs.

The girl stops swinging her legs, eyes alert as she feels her head, the once taut strands now flowing just past her chin. “Sorry, Daddy,” she whispers, hands tucking themselves under her knees.

She got this from you, Yoongi ponders. At seven years old, she could already read people like she had fifty years on them. It scared Yoongi a bit at first, but eventually, he was glad that she’d inherited your knack for navigating social situations instead of his (lack thereof).

But this wasn’t her fault. If anything, this just went to show Yoongi that he needs to spend more time with his daughter. A decade into his career, he’s become an established producer who’s earning enough that neither of you have to worry about finances for the rest of your lifetimes. Unfortunately, the hours have never gotten better. He’s continued to make a second home out of his studio, even though he spends considerably less time there than during his debut days. Yoongi sighs. “Sweetheart,” he tilts his daughter’s chin up so she would look at him. “Don’t be sorry, okay? This wasn’t your fault,” he keeps his voice calm, another hand tucking her hair behind her ears. He leans down to meet her eyes, “if anything, Daddy’s got some homework to do.” Yoongi smiles.

She nods, but she wouldn’t be his daughter if she weren’t stubborn. A pout settles onto her lips, and Yoongi holds back the urge to scoop her into his arms because pigtails be damned, they can break the dress code once a while. But you’d left a note on the bathroom mirror, and although Yoongi never cared much for photoshoots, he would never jeopardize his daughter’s Photo Day.

He picks up the comb again and runs through the part in her hair. Her eyes are downcast, and Yoongi can tell she’s using every muscle fiber in her body to hold still. “Princess, look at me,” he instructs gently between pulling her hair into one hand. Her eyes wander up to his, eyebrows pulled upwards in guilt. “It wasn’t your fault, okay?” He repeats, searching her expression to make sure she understood. She nods, but her lips are sealed in a pout. “Good,” he hums. With the hair secured in his grip, Yoongi taps her bottom lip with his free hand, pointing at her pout. “I need you to stop doing that because it’s really adorable and I’m trying to concentrate.” He reaches for a hair tie and succeeds in securing one pigtail.

“There,” he holds up the mirror for her. When Yoongi sees her smile crawling back, he grins. “Ready for the other side?”

2

John Shelby x Reader

(Not my photo, credit goes to its owners)

“Hey darlin’, can I get a lager over here.” A voice asked from the front of the bar.

You currently had your back to the customers whilst you poured a couple of whiskeys. “Just a second.” You called from over your shoulder.
Turning around you placed the two whiskeys on the bar in front of two older men before moving along towards the direction of the voice.
“How can I help?” You asked sweetly, smiling whilst gripping the beer taps, eliciting a barely audible moan from the young and handsome man before you.

“Well beautiful, I was going to ask for a lager but now I’d much prefer to know your name.” He answered as a playful smirk tugged at his lips.

“I’m (Y/N), I’ve only just moved to Small Heath. Harry was kind enough to give me a job here despite my lack of experience in bar work as well as allowing me to rent the room upstairs.” You explained as you began to pour a lager. “May I ask your name, sir?

"Name’s John Shelby. I’m no sir darlin’, the more you get to know the area, the more you’ll come to know me and my family. Of course if you need any help getting to know the place I’d be more than happy to give you an exclusive guided tour.” He said winking at you.

You nodded handing John his drink, not really knowing how to respond to his flirting. “I’ll keep that in mind.” You smiled shyly as you walked out the back towards the storeroom to gather supplies.
Just before you reached the door of the storeroom you felt a hand on your waist gently turning you around to lean against the wall. You snapped your head up in shock to see Johns face merely centimetres from your own as his hand rested on the wall beside your head.

“I thought I’d come and see if you needed a hand.” John stated, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Erm I’m sorry John but your not meant be back here, it’s for staff only.” You said blushing furiously, unable to avert your eyes from his. “Please, I could get fired if Harry sees you.

"Oh don’t worry about him.” He cooed whilst tracing your collarbone with his forefinger. “I want to get to know better away from prying eyes.”

There was no denying the chemistry between the two of you, it was like an instant spark igniting whenever you looked at one another. Despite only just meeting, you knew this had the potential to go further than casual flirting.

The door handle to the back door jiggled, signalling someones impending entrance. Yours and Johns head snapped towards it, looking like deer in headlights, as Harry came walking in.

“John what the fuck are you doing back here? Shift your ass now or I’ll get your brother to do it for you.” Harry warned.
John winked at you as he placed a cocktail stick into his mouth.
“I’ll see you around (Y/N).”

Blushing, you swept your hair back over you shoulders whilst smiling down at your feet.

“Watch him kid, you don’t want to go messing around with the Shelbys. They’re not clear- cut, they’ll lead you down the wrong path. Come on, enough dilly dallying get back to work.”

Sleep With Me?

Creak!

Kageyama jolted in his bed, sweat dotting his forehead and running down the back of his neck. He clutched his covers and looked around in his room. Sighing loudly, he rubbed one of his eyes with the heel of his palm. Turning his back to his door, Kageyama forced his eyes closed.

It was such, such a bad idea to binge a whole bunch of Ghost Adventures videos before going to bed. He did not think he would be scared, after all, a lot of it seemed absolutely ridiculous! Yet, now that the lights were off and he was alone in his room, Kageyama found himself terrified. Willing himself to go back to sleep, Kageyama repeatedly told himself that the noise was just the apartment stretching or something, not some supernatural entity.

Keep reading

2

Finn faces Kylo knowing Rey’s lying motionless behind him in the snow. He’s ready to fight the man who’s already hurt her, and who’s come for her again. He may die, but watching Kylo take Rey would be worse. Finn knows one thing for certain: Kylo will have to get through him first to harm the woman Finn loves.

***

Rey remembers seeing Finn in the lightsabers’ glow when she was still foggy from the blow to her head. She’s not sure how she summoned the weapon, but she watched it fly over Finn’s prone form, and felt a resonance when the saber fit naturally in her grip. Now, as she taps into the Force, she does it for herself, and for Finn too - she’ll protect the man she loves until her last breath.

Gifs courtesy of @thevengeanceknight and @vanessaiivves

A Ticklish Homecoming

Originally posted by universexy

Author’s Note: This one-shot was inspired by @nerdasticstuff‘s post

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Words: 1078


Three days. Three days ago your loving boyfriend Pietro went on a solo mission. Today was the day he was expected to be back. So here you were, being the worried girlfriend waiting by the door for her boyfriend to come home. Only Pietro can get you like this.

You were currently in the common room with the others; everyone was trying to relax and take a day-off from being superheroes. Tony and Bruce were discussing matters on their latest project, with their nose hidden behind a tablet. Bucky and Steve were watching TV, trying to catch up to the modern day world. Clint and Natasha were idly chatting, occasionally watching the TV then returning to their conversation. Every now and then, you would check your phone to see what time it was. You tried not to dwell on the subject, so you were trying to focus on the TV, hoping that time would go by faster and the universe will bring Pietro home.

After 20 minutes of staring aimlessly at the TV, you got up to get a glass of water, finding anything to do besides biting your nails. 

You walked through the hallway and entered the kitchen where Vision and Wanda were talking about their latest training events. You greeted them with a small smile. Wanda returned the gesture with a knowing look; she too was anxious for Pietro to come home safe, but she had Vision to keep her mind off things. You walked up the counter and grabbed a clear, tall glass out of the cupboard. You poured some water in the glass and slowly drank the whole glass, enjoying the relieving sensation down your throat.

All of a sudden, you felt a gust of wind and two arms wrapping around your waist. You gasped and looked over your shoulder to see Pietro smiling down at you. “Zdravstvuy, lyubov’ moya.” Hello my love.

Placing the glass on the counter, you quickly turned around to reciprocate the hug. “Pietro! I missed you,” you responded. You nuzzled your face in the crevice of his neck.

He chuckled at your greeting. “I missed you too, Y/N.” You felt his body move slightly before hearing him greet his sister who was watching his homecoming. She kindly responded in their native tongue. It was then that Pietro tightened his grip on your waist, tapping his fingers aimlessly on the sides of your waist.

You squealed in response, jumping out of Pietro’s reach. You looked up to see Pietro with a surprised look on his face. “I didn’t- Wait, Y/N?… Are you ticklish?’

Your face flushed, responding “Pshhh, no”, attempting to hide that you are very ticklish.

Pietro smirked, slowly approaching you again as you backed away with caution. “Uh-huh,” he stated. “I totally believe you.” He lunged toward you, but you quickly ran out of his reach, not before hearing Vision and Wanda chuckling. You sprinted towards the common room, knowing he damn well can catch up to you with his superspeed.

You were almost at the entrance of the common room, when you were being scooped up by your boyfriend. “PIETRO!,” you screeched as his fingers were gently tickling your sides. You barely heard Pietro through your forced laughter, “What lyubov? I’m just trying to get my proper homecoming from you.”

You were dying from laughter and had to get out of his grip ASAP. When you thought that all men had the same weakness, sex. You turned around abruptly, slamming your lips onto his. Your hands went to his hair, massaging his scalp. His hands stopped his attack on your sides and instead placed them on your hips. He returned the gesture and you felt him smirk against the kiss. You got him distracted. 

You’ll pay for this later, but right now, all you wanted is for the tickle attack to end. Sorry Pietro. Your hand cupped and fondled his clothed member. Once you knew he was dazed and unfocused, you ripped your hand off his pants and ran into the common room. You knew you had only so much time, until your boyfriend will come in looking for revenge. You stopped and quickly observed the room for a hiding place.

“Whoa Y/N,” Tony smirked. “I know Pietro is back and all, but dang you guys work fast.”

You blushed for a moment, looking down and realizing your physical appearance. Your clothes were disheveled and your hair had a post-sex look. But you didn’t have time to be embarrassed. You ran to the couches and sat in between Steve and Bucky, knowing if anyone would protect you, it would be them. “Protect me,” you demanded, your eyes darting to the entrance of the common room.

Everyone’s heads turned to the same direction. Almost immediately, Pietro was standing at the entrance. He was breathing heavily, and he was looking around the room as one can only describe as him hunting for his prey.

“Dang Speedy,” Clint said. “Didn’t know you were so kinky.” That earned a slap on the arm from Natasha.

Pietro’s eyes finally land on you, and damn were you nervous. Using his powers, he was right in front of you in the blink of an eye. Steve quickly jumped in between the two of you. “Whoa there,” Steve uttered. “What’s going on here?”

Pietro answered, “I learned something new about Y/N today.” Before he could finish his thought, Tony said, “That she is kinky as well”. You kept your eyes on Pietro, but you could practically hear Bruce sigh and shake his head disapprovingly.

“No,” he responded unamusingly. “That she is ticklish.”

Bucky wondered, “Really?” before poking your side. You squealed, practically jumping off the couch.

“Yep,” he said with a smug look at his face.

“Buckkkky,” you whined as you backed away.

All of a sudden you felt something brushing your neck, causing you to scream yet again. You quickly turn around to see a certain red-haired Avengers with a smirk on her lips. “Dang,” Natasha said. “She really is ticklish”.

It’s as if you were thrown into an alternate universe. Every single Avenger, besides Bruce -Bless Bruce-, smirked then turned their head to face you.  And boy was it creepy.

Your eyes widened at your realization of their next action. You uttered, “Shit,” before darting out of the room. Out of all the missions and training, this would be the most scariest and most strenuous moment of your life.

Prepared

Beginning . Accusation . Restless . Snowflake . Haze . Flame . Formal . Companion . Move . Silver

Niall isn’t at all prepared for the green-eyed boy with long, unruly curls to come to his rescue.

 X

Nine months ago: Niall Horan, aspiring musician moves across the pond, from Ireland to Hollywood, with nothing but a duffle bag of clothes, some snap backs and his old guitar.

Eight-point-five months ago a virus breaks out across the U.S.A; people start dying and then coming back to life. Two weeks later the entire world breaks out into real life a zombie apocalypse.

Seven months ago Niall loses contact with his family back home in Ireland.

Five months ago Niall, stuck in L.A. and virtually alone – hiding in abandoned L.A. mansions and killing zombies with anything he can get his hands on, including a gun he found on top of a bible in the bedside table of a house he’d broken in to, gets his arse saved by a boy with long, unruly brown curls and a stupid-looking farmers hat. Said boy, a British-native living near and (previously) working in one of the most upscale bakeries in L.A. named Harry Styles, insists Niall join him and his “band of zombie-slaying misfits” on their journey to Washington, where it’s rumored there’s a cure.

Four-point-five months ago Niall repays the favour by blowing a zombie’s brain out whilst the zombie was trying to eat Harry’s face in the middle of a Walmart..

Three months ago – and Niall isn’t even all that sure as to how it happens – Niall and Harry wind up exchanging mutual hand jobs next to a creek somewhere in Phoenix while Louis and his girlfriend Eleanor, Zayn and his fiancé Perrie and Liam and his on-and-off again girlfriend Sophia are asleep in a couple tents a few feet away. They agree to keep it a secret – and to keep it going because they’re boys and just because the world has gone to shit, doesn’t mean they can’t still get off. [They also agree to not make it a thing thing because, well, starting up anything serious in the middle of an apocalypse is probably the exact wrong thing to do.]

Two weeks ago they go all the way, exchanging blowjobs and kisses before Harry fucks Niall when they’re alone in the woods, and Niall realizes that in all the zombie apocalypse books and guides he’d read as a teenager, whether he’d taken them seriously at the time or not, he doesn’t remember reading anything that would’ve prepared him for falling in love during an apocalypse. 

X

[Nine months post-apocalypse]

“Harry – fuck,” Niall hisses, fisting his hand into a mop of long, unruly brown curls attached to the head which is attached to the mouth currently attached to his dick. The boy on his knees in front of him, where Niall’s lying in the grass next to the make-shift fire pit with his legs apart, hums around him, yanking a moan from Niall’s throat. “Hurry up,” he breathes, tossing his head back as Harry’s head begins to bob. “They’ll be back soon, hurry up.”

Harry pulls off with a pop, a smirk on his pretty, dark pink lips. “Maybe we should let them see. They could all use a little less frustrations.”

“Yeah, because witnessing other people fucking is gonna take away their own frustrations,” Niall says, rolling his eyes despite the lazy grin on his face.

"I wouldn’t call it fucking; we definitely don’t have time for that.”

“We’re not gonna have time for this if you don’t shut up and get back to work,” Niall snaps, carding his fingers through Harry’s curls to pull him back into place over him. 

"If you talk to me like that I might not-”

“Haz, c’mon,” Niall whines, not even pretending to be ashamed. “I’m so fucking hard and I’ve already sucked you off so it’s only fair that you return-” he cuts himself off the second Harry takes him in his mouth again, looking up at him through lidded eyes. And, Jesus Christ, a zombie could pop out of the woods right now and Niall wouldn’t even be bothered enough to kill it. “Fuck,” he breathes, his hips bucking upwards – which only makes Harry moan and suck harder.

Niall feels delirious, over-sensitive. He gasps, because Harry does this thing with his tongue that drives Niall crazy every time, and squeezes his eyes shut, throwing his head back into the grass as his hips stutter up once more. He can feel it; the twisting pleasure in his gut, the fire and ice tingling throughout his whole body. “F-fuck,” Niall croaks, his throat closing, cutting off his air supply at the same Harry’s throat closes around him. “Ha-z-“

Harry grips his thigh, tapping a finger against his skin and Niall forces his eyes open and drags his head out of the dirt to look down. His gaze meets Harry’s blown-out eyes, his pupils so wide that the green is hardly visible. Niall pushes his hands through Harry’s hair, tugging on his curls.

Harry literally pulls Niall’s orgasm out of him - ’m gonna suck your brain out through your dick, a dry sob escaping Niall’s throat.

“Shit,” Niall breaths afterwards, his chest heaving and panting. He cranes his neck to look at the boy sitting in the grass across from him, grinning lazily. Harry’s still licking his lips – and if Niall wasn’t already so fucked-out, he’d feel it in his groin. 

“You should pull your pants back up,” Harry says, pushing himself to his feet as he smirks down at Niall. “They’re gonna be back soon.”

“I don’t even care,” Niall drawls, tilting his head to look up at him.

“C’mon, make yourself decent before they can start asking questions,” the brunette chuckles, kicking gently at Niall’s let as he ties his American flag bandana back around his head like a headband, pushing his hair out of his face.

It’s not that either of them are ashamed or embarrassed because, hell, they’ve both heard the others going at it at some point or another, it’s just that…it’s easier this way, not acknowledging it. Because it isn’t supposed to be a thing. (The difference between Harry and Niall and the other lads and their significant other is that the lads were in their respective relationships before the virus broke and, well.)

Niall does as he’s told, tucking himself back into his pants before pushing himself back on to his feet. He wipes his hands off on his already dirty, grass and blood stained skinny jeans and then stretches his legs a bit before glancing across the fire pit towards where Harry is gathering more twigs. Harry’s clothes are also dirty, dried zombie blood caked onto his ripped skinny jeans and shirt and his skin, like Niall’s – and everyone else’s, he supposes – is grimy and, even on some of the colder days, almost constantly slick with sweat. He really does look the part of a zombie slayer, like the ones you’d find in comic books and video games, with his ripped and tattered clothing, his tanned and dirty skin and his long and greasy hair – none of them have had a proper shower of any sort in months – and it kind of makes Niall’s stomach coil because he’s fucking gorgeous. 

“I think we should leave early tomorrow,” Harry says, dropping an armful of twigs onto the ground next to the fire pit. He then turns to Niall and pokes him the blunt end of one stick. “Ya reckon?”

Niall rolls his eyes, batting the stick away from his arm. “Yeah, I reckon,” he says, ducking away from Harry as the brunette continues to poke at him. “You’re such a child,” he laughs.

Harry smirks, cocking his head to the side in this distinctly-quirky-Harry kind of way, which Niall has, admittedly, become quite fond of – even if he does make fun of Harry for being a dork sometimes. “Considering what I just did for you I’d say I’m not that much of a child.”

Niall smiles, shaking his head whilst simultaneously leaning in to kiss the other boy-

And then, as if on cue, a familiar group of six come out of the woods – with food, Niall hopes. And even if it is with food, he’d almost rather they be zombies because at least he can snog Harry in front of them before bashing their heads in with whatever weapon is closest to him.

X

“We need to stick to the woods.”

“We need to find a road or something – for all we know we could be walking in circles in these damn woods.”

Louis and Niall are arguing about where to go, whilst everyone else just sort of watches because nobody else wants to get involved. They don’t fight often – in fact, for a group of boys (and a few girls) who came together with absolutely nothing in common, except maybe Harry and Louis, they all get along quite well. It’s just that Niall hasn’t really been sleeping, between Harry crawling into his sleeping bag for a shag and worrying, constantly, about the undead roaming around them, so he’s cranky (despite all the sex he’s been having, which is more than before the apocalypse) and Louis has a short fuse. Niall thinks it best to find a road or a highway somewhere because there might be actual, living people and maybe they can find a working vehicle which would make traveling easier, since Louis broke the last one. Louis thinks they should stick to the woods because there are less zombies in the woods which means there’s a smaller chance of dying – which is true, but still. 

"What happens then, Niall, if we do come across a vehicle and it’s all fine and dandy until, whoops, we run out of gas? Huh?”

“If we find a vehicle then we find the nearest has station and suck the gas out of the pump, fill up a few of those red containers. Yeah, it’s been ages since someone’s used a gas pump but there’s no way it’s dried up. It’s our safest option, Louis.”

“I beg to differ.”

Niall turns to Harry, “what do you think, Haz?” And maybe that’s a little unfair, to put Harry in between his best friend and the boy he’s shagging, but Niall trusts Harry’s judgment almost as much, if not more, than he trusts his own.

The look the curly-haired boy gives Louis, his best friend since before the apocalypse, before he looks at Niall makes him think he’s going to side with Louis just because. Because he doesn’t want to make Louis mad and it has Niall’s gut clenching because if Harry does side with Louis that’s like choosing Louis over him. And even though it shouldn’t be – because they aren’t a thing and he shouldn’t be jealous anyway because Louis has a girlfriend – he’s already mad at Harry-

“You really think finding the highway is for the best?” Harry asks softly, cocking his head to the side. 

Niall swallows around the lump in his throat as he nods. “I do.”

Harry licks his bright pink lips and runs a hand through his matted hair before dragging it down across his neck and collarbones. His fingers drag across the neck of his t-shirt, dragging the fabric down to reveal the tip of one of the two swallow tattoos he has on his chest. “Then I think we should find a highway.”

Louis gaps at him, looking betrayed – and a little hurt – and glares at Niall but he doesn’t say anything else. 

Niall continues to stare at Harry, who turns his attention onto Louis to explain himself – and Niall – in a way that Niall hadn’t. Harry’s got all the confidence of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing, like he’s done it before – which is absolutely mad, he knows, but Niall knows, probably more than anyone, that Harry doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing. That he’s just as scared and uncertain as the rest of them, even if he never shows it; he’s told Niall as much in the quiet darkness of their tent whilst nestled in Niall’s sleeping bag. It’s a secret Niall keeps and Harry doesn’t even have to ask.

In the end, Harry convinces Louis that finding the highway is their best option and Niall prays to God – or to whoever’s up their destroying their world – that he’s right.

X

Things can change in the blink of an eye in an apocalypse; Niall knows this, though it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. One minute you can be raiding a grocery store for non-perishable foods and the next there can a dozen zombies circling you like you’re prey. 

Niall pants, bending at the waist to rest his hands on his knees, the hilt of his knife still clutched in his fingers, dripping dark red blood on the tile at his feet. Around him are the dead, undead bodies of several zombies. His bummed knee hurts a bit, but it’s not unbearable. A chuckle erupts from his throat, dragging with it a surge of adrenaline and a feeling of victory having survived. He turns around to find Harry – Harry’s always got this wicked, breathless look about him after a fight like this, like he’s amazed that he’s still alive and it’s beautiful – but Harry isn’t standing behind him, isn’t grinning at him with that cocky, dimply smile. 

Panic sets in, his breath catching in his throat when he catches a glimpse of Harry’s bandana on the floor. When he looks harder, focusing his gaze on two bodies a few feet away from him, he realizes that one of the bodies is Harry’s. And he isn’t moving. 

Niall’s legs move all on their own, guiding him towards where Harry’s lying with another, dead undead body sprawled out on top of him. He drops to his knees, ignoring the pain that shoots through his bummed one, and scrambles to push the bloodied, rotten body off Harry. 

The brunette’s eyes are closed, his cheeks smeared with blood, his hair pushed back out of his face by his bandana. 

“Harry,” he breathes, shaking his shoulders. “Harry – c’mon, wake up. Please – please wake up,” he begs, his voice shaking. Harry still doesn’t move, his eyes are still closed and his chest is still rising and falling evenly – but Niall still fears the worst; fears the moment when Harry’s eyes open to reveal ones that don’t belong to him. “This isn’t funny,” Niall whimpers, shaking harder, desperately at Harry’s shoulders.

Harry’s eyes begin to flutter open, then, and he groans from low in his throat as he slowly comes to. 

“Fuck,” Niall breathes, dropping his head to rest his forehead against Harry’s chest. “You asshole…”

“Heyyy,” Harry murmurs, acting offended. “‘s not my fault. Blame that guy,“ he says, gesturing to the decaying body of a man next to him. 

Niall rolls his eyes, sitting back on the floor and bending his knees in front of him. Harry does the same, glancing around them, frowning. This is how it goes: eventually, the adrenaline from having fought for your life and survived disappears and dread for having killed people – what used to be people – sets in. Harry’s always taken it the worst, always feels the worst; he thinks too much about the lives these people had before this. Niall can’t bring himself to think like that, which makes him think that Harry is definitely a better person than he is. 

There are days, however, when Niall feels far too good about himself having survived and he begins to feel like he’s losing his humanity, like this new, fucked up world is taking it away from him – and Harry always knows just what to say; says that killing them is more of a favour than a burden he should bear in his heart. Harry somehow always knows what to say to everybody but himself. 

"We should go find the others,” Harry says, pushing himself to his feet. He offers Niall his hand and the blond boy takes it, letting Harry pull him to his feet as well. 

He expects Harry to drop his hand, then, but Harry only squeezes his fingers and tugs on his arm, pulling him down an aisle and away from the dead bodies. 

This is the first time he’s ever been genuinely afraid of losing Harry.

X

Niall has nightmares, which is sort of ironic considering the world they’re living in now is a nightmare. The only difference, perhaps, is that during the day he can be distracted by killing the things trying to eat him – and by Harry. That and in his nightmares someone always dies. 

The nightmares started when the world first turned on its head and the dead came back to life – and especially when Niall had lost contact with his family back in Ireland. They were mostly about his parents or his brother dying and then turning into one of them and becoming unrecognizable; sometimes Greg would attack him, growling and snarling, trying to rip his neck apart, sometimes his mother would tear apart his flesh and gnaw on his bones, sometimes his baby nephew Theo would crawl around, grey skinned and bloody and hungry. And Niall would wake up in a cold sweat, crying and dry-heaving because he hadn’t been able to eat that day due to the nightmares he had the night before. 

Now the nightmares are about Harry. Harry, forgetting who he is – who they both are. Harry’s eyes glazed over, empty, unrecognizable. Harry’s face bruised and blooded and grey, his body seemingly alive but everything inside of him dead. Harry, pinning Niall to the ground whilst he scrambles, trying feebly to push this undead version of Harry off him in a way he’s never done before. Harry, trying to rip out his jugular with his teeth. 

Every time he wakes up, now, he comes face-to-face with the boy who just tried to kill him in his dreams and the thought, that it really could happen now – that it’s not really a nightmare, because the nightmare is very real – makes him sick to his stomach. And every time he wakes up he stares at Harry, watches him sleep, watches his chest rise and fall and his eyelids flutter gently against his cheek. He takes him all in, commits him to memory the way he is – tanned, dirty skin, bright pink lips, long brown curls, long and lean body – because he’s afraid of forgetting. 

He isn’t sure what scares him more: Harry forgetting who he is or himself forgetting who Harry is.

And now, since the attack at the grocery store a few days ago, Niall has developed a new fear; he’s not sure that, if the time ever came – which it very-well could – he can kill Harry. He isn’t sure he can look into Harry’s face, even if it no longer belongs to the humble, quirky boy himself, and kill him. In fact he’s pretty sure that if the time ever does come Niall wouldn’t even want to, thinks he might just give in and let Harry have him.

X

They’re somewhere in Texas now. A few days ago they’d stumbled across a large farmhouse surrounded by acre upon acre (upon acre) of land. Living inside it was a young couple named Louise and Tom and their three-year-old daughter, Lux. Tom had been wary at first, of course, because they were a group of eight strangers – but Lux had taken no time at all to take to Harry (and Harry to Lux) and Lou had felt obligated to put them up for at least a few days. Just long enough to shower, clean yourselves up and have a few proper meals.

It’s been about two weeks now and they’ve got something of a life here now. Tom and Lou are incredibly cool, Lux is adorable and has sort of grown attached to all of them and the house is big enough that Louis and Eleanor, Liam and Sophia, Zayn and Perrie all have their own rooms. Harry and Niall also have their own rooms but that doesn’t stop Harry from crawling into Niall’s bed to snog him until they both fall asleep.

Things are good here. Nobody’s come across a zombie in weeks, everyone seems quite happy and things are very simple. If Niall didn’t know any better he’d think the rest of the world was living like them, without a care in the world. 

Niall still has nightmares, though, and because Harry spends every night in bed with him Harry’s begun to notice. 

He wakes for the third night in a row in a cold sweat, panting and whimpering as he struggles to move, to just get away. Harry wakes up seconds later, instinctively reaching out for him but Niall pushes him away, shouting for the brunette not to touch him. Harry obeys, raising his arms like he’s surrendering as he moves away.

Niall’s eyes are wide, his breathing shallow, his heart hammering in his chest as he looks across the bed at the boy beside him, watching him with baited breath and a furrowed brow.

“What’s – what’s going on?” Harry croaks, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously in his throat. “What’s going on with you?”

Niall sighs, dropping his head into his hands. “Just…nightmares.”

“Y-our parents?”

“You.”

Harry blinks. “Oh.”

Niall lifts his gaze and it collides with Harry’s bright, curious, alive green ones. He licks at his lips, running his hands through his hair. “You – you always turn. And you always come for me. And I can never…I can never do it. I can never kill-” he cuts himself off, choking on the words as a sob escapes his throat. The word tastes awful in his mouth now. 

“C’mere,” Harry murmurs, cocking his head for Niall to come closer as he opens his arms. 

Niall practically leaps across the length of the bed, curling himself around Harry and burying his face into his chest.

“I reckon I’d have an awful time too,” Harry mutters, dipping his face into Niall’s hair.

Niall chuckles, sniffling back tears.

“Let’s make a pact yeah?” Niall cranes his neck to look up. “If either of us turns the other has to take care of it. No exceptions.”

Niall blinks, snapping his head back to stare at Harry. Harry stares back at him, the corners of his lips twitching into a small smile – and Niall gets it, understands him. It makes his heart beat faster and his stomach twist into knots, the butterflies coming to life, and as terrifying as the thought may be, promising Harry that he would do it – kill him, it’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

“Deal?”

Niall nods, leaning forward to press his lips against Harry’s. “Deal.

X

A loud, throaty gasp crawls out of Niall’s chest and bursts between his lips as Harry’s hand slips inside Niall’s pants, squeezing one round arse cheek with his fingers. Niall thinks the sounds that Harry drags from him are embarrassing but Harry craves them, chases them down, encourages him. He moans as his back hits the wall Harry pushes him against, rips his mouth away from Harry’s as the brunette grinds against him, dips his head to sink his teeth, desperately, into Harry’s shoulder. Harry groans, pulling both hands back; his fingers fumble with the hem of Niall’s shirt.

“Off,” Harry mutters, pulling on the shirt whilst Niall helps him get it off. His lips automatically attach themselves to Niall’s collarbone.

“Harry,” Niall breathes, pushing his head back against the wall. His arms fall around Harry’s neck, holding him close.

Everything is so peaceful, so quiet that the only thing that can be heard is the noises leaving both boys. And then-

An ear-piercing scream resounds around the room, as though the scream was originating from inside it. 

Niall’s blood runs cold as Harry’s head snaps back, staring wide-eyed at Niall’s face. More screaming and series of shouts – from Louis and Liam – follow. “Shit,” he mutters, reaching for his shirt, which Harry had dropped on the floor at their feet, as Harry trips away from him and adjusts his own clothing. 

Both boys take off, ripping out of Niall’s bedroom door and down the stairs at the end of the hall. Harry’s legs are longer but Niall’s fast, so he keeps up with the brunette, following the screams – and then a gunshot – out the back screen door and onto the porch. In the field, a mere 25 feet away, everyone (excluding Lou and Lux; Lou, who’s cradling a sobbing Lux in her arms a few feet away) is gathered around two bodies lying in the grass. 

One body belongs to a zombie, blood dripping out of a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead and someone else’s blood all over his mouth. The other belongs to Eleanor, whose neck has been ripped apart and arms have been violently scratched up. 

While everyone else is too shocked to react, Louis is a right mess. He’s kneeling down next to her, covered in her blood as he leans over her, his hands cupping her face, forehead pressed against hers. He’s crying – sobbing and whimpering, pleading with her to be okay, begging her not to leave him. Eleanor’s also crying, silent tears sliding down the sides of her face and into her hair but the only sounds she makes are gasps and gurgles due to the fact that her windpipe has been destroyed. 

They all know it’s over; in a matter of minutes she’s going to start to turn, to lose herself to the virus. They’ll be forced to put her down.

“We can’t let her change,” Liam says, stepping forward to stand closer to Louis.

“I know,” Louis croaks.

“I’ll do it-”

“No,” Louis sniffs, wiping his wrists over his wet cheeks. His hands are coated in her blood. “I’ll do it.”

Niall grabs at Harry’s hand at the same time Louis takes his gun from his holster. Harry intertwines their fingers.

Louis whimpers and his hands shake; his left brushing back Eleanor’s hair and his right bringing the gun up to the underside of her chin. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, leaning down to press a gently kiss against her lips. “I love you.”

She nods when he pulls back, like she’s encouraging him – and then a second later her eyes flutter closed and her chest stops moving. 

Louis cries, his trembling fingers gripping the gun. He’s panting, breathing heavily. “I - I can’t,” he sobs, falling back on his arse before scrambling to push himself away from her body. “I can’t…”

Liam takes the gun from his hand just before Louis’ fingers were going to let go of it anyway.

Niall’s breath catches in his throat as Liam stands behind Louis, pointing the gun directly at Eleanor’s head. This is his worst nightmare come to life – even if it isn’t his decision to make. 

There’s a loud bang, Louis’ heart-wrenching scream, Perrie’s gasp as she buries her face into Zayn’s shoulder, Sophia’s whimper she moves forward to drag Liam against her, Lux’ terrified cries as Lou runs towards the house. Harry flinches next to him and Niall squeezes his fingers – but then Harry’s pulling away, his fingers squirming to untangle from Niall’s before he’s dropping to his knees behind where Louis’ curled in on himself. Harry envelopes his best friend into his arms, rocking them both back and forth as Louis clings to him.

X

They haven’t had a proper conversation in days and even though they’re living in the same bloody house Niall misses him. The thing is: Louis’ a wreck. He cries all the time, his sobs carrying on through the whole house, and he hardly leaves his room. Harry also hardly leaves Louis’ room, has cooped himself up with his best friend for days.

It’s selfish, Niall knows, to miss him, to be upset about it. They lost a great friend – Louis lost his girlfriend – so of course Harry should be with him. It’s just that this whole thing is incredibly unsettling and Harry always has a way of fixing that, of using his smile and his dimples and his kisses to make Niall feel better. 

So when Niall sees Harry, through the kitchen window, sitting along in the middle of the grassy field, he takes it upon himself to join him. He sits on the grounds next the brunette, bending his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. “Shouldn’t be out here alone,” he murmurs, bumping his shoulder gently against Harry’s. The rest of what he wants to say goes unsaid: Eleanor went for a walk alone, but he knows Harry hears it anyway. He takes a deep breath, craning his neck to watch Harry’s face. “I know this probably isn’t the right thing to say right now but…I miss you.”

Harry blinks and his jaw tenses before he looks away. 

“Haz,” Niall whispers, reaching for the other boy’s hand. 

Harry pulls away, shrugging off Niall’s touch and then pushes himself to his feet. Niall’s breath catches in his throat as Harry begins to pace back and forth, his hands flying up to run over his face and through his long, unwashed hair. “I think…I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

“W-what?”

“This,” Harry sighs. “Us. We can’t – I can’t-”

“Wait, hang on,” Niall says, pushing himself to his feet as well; Harry’s taller than him, but at least if he’s standing up he can see the boy clearly. His heart is hammering in his chest, his palms are sweating – so he rubs them on his dirt and blood-stained jeans – and his stomach is twisting into knots. “Where the hell is this coming from? We-” He cuts himself off because his mind is racing and his thoughts are moving too fast to concentrate on just one. 

Harry looks at him, eyes sad and so full of pain and distress. “It’s a distraction, Niall.”

Niall shakes his head, eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”

“Eleanor got attacked by a zombie the other day – the first zombie we’ve come into contact with in weeks – and we were…we were too busy fooling around to be there,” Harry spits. 

“That – that wasn’t our fault, Harry.”

“It got Eleanor killed-”

“No, it – there was nothing we could’ve done. There was nothing anyone could’ve done; even if we hadn’t been…we don’t know that we could’ve prevented it,” Niall reminds him, because one of them has to point it out.

“That’s kind of the point, innit? We don’t know – we don’t know anything. We’re fucked, Niall. This whole world is fucked-“

"Harry-”

“We weren’t there, Eleanor is dead and my – my best friend is a wreck and there’s nothing I can…I can’t do anything about it.”

Niall blinks, stepping forward to reach out for him but Harry shrugs him off once more. He frowns. “Ending things won’t bring her back, Harry.”

"It’ll take away distractions.”

Niall’s brow furious and he shakes his head. Harry isn’t making any sense; the only distraction fucking around provides is blinding pleasure. That, and Niall’s plaguing nightmares but that’s-

It hits him, then, like a slap at the back of the head. It’s less about Eleanor’s death and more about Louis’ inability to kill her.

“We made a pact, Harry,” Niall murmurs, pushing his hands into his pockets. “Remember? We have a deal-”

“Eleanor and Louis had a deal too and Louis couldn’t go through with it. And it’s destroying him, Niall,” Harry whimpers, sniffing back years. 

Niall’s heart jumps into his throat. “That’s different-“

"It’s not though, Niall. It isn’t different at all, is it?”

The blond licks his lips, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He knows it’s coming, knows he won’t be able to sway Harry’s mind – not now, not with everything going on. 

“I just think we need to stop-”

“Okay,” Niall whispers, looking down at his feet. The less Harry has to stay about it, the better. For both of them, he reckons. “Okay. It’s done." 

X

Harry’s standing on the front porch by the time the truck rounds the corner. It’s only been three days (and seven zombie kills) since Niall left with Zayn and Liam to travel a few cities behind in order to find a special dose of medicine for a sick Lux, but Niall feels like he hasn’t seen Harry in ages. Niall’s a little bit slower climbing out of the back of the truck, because his knee hurts, and Liam and Zayn rush past Harry into the house, supplies in hand. He’s also trying in vain to delay the moment he would have to actually speak to Harry, so he takes his time, closing the door behind him and lingering at the back of the cab to grab his bag.

Harry rushes down the front steps and meets him half way, placing his hands on his shoulders the moment he’s stood in front of him whilst inspecting Niall’s body for injuries.

Niall swallows the lump in his throat. “I’m fine, Harry. I’m fine.”

Harry throws himself at Niall, then, wrapping his arms around the blond boy’s neck. His body collides hard with Niall’s knocking them off balance – and catching Niall off guard – for a fraction of a second before he catches them. “Shit, Niall,” he breathes into the crook of his neck. 

Niall hugs him back, his fingers gripping the back of Harry’s plaid flannel shirt. 

X

They’re traveling again, driving through yet another abandoned county, past shops with broken windows and doors hanging off hinges. Suddenly Harry shouts for Louis to stop the truck and jumps out of the cab before the truck even rolls to a stop. Niall shouts at him – along with Lux, whose little voice carries through the air – as he takes off running towards a record shop. Lux attempts to follow him, her little hands gripping the edge of the cab as she tries to swing her leg over the top but Tom grabs her around the waist and pulls her back into his lap, tickling her into a fit of giggles. 

Harry comes back moments later holding a beautiful, shiny acoustic guitar in one hand and an old, wooden drum in the other. Niall grins from ear to ear, ignoring everyone else’s “oou’s” and “aw’s”, as Harry climbs back into the cab. “To replace the one you broke to pieces,” he says, pushing the guitar into Niall’s chest. 

Niall licks his lips, taking the neck of the guitar from Harry’s hands. He settles it in his lap, running his hands over the length of the curved wood, his finger tugging gently at the strings. It’s been so long – too long – since he’s had a guitar in his hands, too long since he’s played. Everyone knows about his obsession with guitars, about his dream of being a musician – but the fact that Harry remembers and thought about it when it’s been the furthest thing from Niall’s mind for months is…well. 

"I told you I wanted you to sing for me,” Harry says cheekily, setting the drum between his knees. (Lux crawls out of Tom’s lap and into Harry’s, banging on the top of the drum with her tiny fists.

“I have sung for you,” Niall points out.

"But not with a guitar.”

Niall rolls his eyes.

“Well what are you waiting for, Irish?” Louis shouts back to him as he puts the truck back in gear. “Sing for the rest of us now.”

He does as he’s told, his fingers moving expertly across the strings like it was only just yesterday that he’d played for the last time before smashing his last guitar over a zombie’s skull. And as everyone else watches and listens, fascinated, his gaze never leaves Harry’s. 

X

Every bone in Niall’s body has turned to jelly, every muscle feels like it’s on fire – but it’s a pleasurable sort of the pain, the kind you sort of chase. The kind you crave so much you can taste it and then it’s there and it’s euphoric. And it doesn’t matter that someone might hear you (because, well, tents aren’t exactly sound proof) and it doesn’t matter that the rest of the world has gone to shit because all you’re focused on is you and your person and that feeling of flying and falling. (It sort of goes to prove that not everything in this new, apocalyptic world is dead.)

He comes apart around Harry at the same time Harry comes apart within him, crying out Harry’s name as he writhes and whines underneath him. Harry collapses in top of him, dipping his face into the crook of Niall’s neck and curling his arms underneath Niall’s shoulders and under the pillow beneath his head. Niall’s breath comes out short and ragged whilst Harry breathes long and slow into his sweaty skin. 

Niall moves one hand from where it was placed on the small of Harry’s back and cards it through Harry’s bangs, dragging with it even more sweat. Harry hums in response, breathing in deep through his nose before pulling his head back to face Niall.

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, leaning forward to press his lips against Niall’s mouth before the blond could respond. 

“Hi,” Niall whispers, smiling into Harry’s kiss. 

Harry’s still inside him and he’s soft but Niall can’t even bring himself to care. “I’m in love you,” Harry says softly, pulling back slightly to look at Niall properly. 

Niall’s breath catches in his throat – because as much as he fancies himself in love with Harry, as much as he feels it in his own chest, he’s never expected Harry to be the first one to say it. Regardless, he already knows it true. He smiles up the beautiful, green-eyed boy above him, feels his chest explode with affection. “I’m in love you too.”

The thing about being in love is that sometimes it sneaks up on you but then sometimes it hits you so suddenly it sort of knocks the breath right out you. For Niall, though, it was kind of a mixture of both. It’s scary and it’s intimidating and it’s hard – but it’s also really fucking beautiful. 

The thing about falling in love during an apocalypse is that it’s all of those things magnified by, like, a thousand because there’s fucking zombies walking around trying to eat everyone and you’re trying not to get yourself killed whilst, at the same time, trying to keep the person (people, really) you love alive. And that, in itself, is a nightmare. 

“‘S weird, in’nit?” Harry hums, nipping at the bottom of Niall’s chin with his teeth. “That you can feel so…happy while everyone around you is dead – or dying.”

It’s a daily struggle, really.

“But it’s good, ya know? Like, it gives you something to live for.”

Niall couldn’t agree more. 

X

The truth of the matter is that anything goes in a zombie apocalypse and no matter how prepared you think you are you aren’t prepared at all. 

A Breach of Trust: Chapter 8

(Act 1: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 )

(Act 2 Chapter 10-18)

(Act 3 Chapter 19+)

Mob had broken his promise.

He was sitting at the stairs again.

Mob sat with his hands wrapped around two spokes of the banister, his weight braced against the edge of a wooden stair. He craned his neck closer to the door. Ten steps still separated him from the thin leaking light at the top. It was enough, he figured, to not endanger the man above. And if no one was in danger of his powers, then there was no reason to stay in his bed.

At least that was what Mob told himself. Mogami had been clear with his rules: do not come near the door when there were voices above.

But then the voice came back, and suddenly that rule was impossible to follow.

Mob sat still, hardly breathing. He loosened and tightened his grip as he listened, tapping along to the natural rhythm in the muffled sound beyond the door. It flooded his mind with wonder. A real person was just beyond the threshold, with a face and a body, a life, a name. It was a person who must see people every day. Someone who walked around in the world outside, someone with a job and clothes—oh clothes—what sorts of clothes did he wear? Different kinds. Not the same every day.

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Taser - Joel x Reader

Hello there, all! So we recently hit 100 followers, of which i’m super excited about, seeing as i’ve only uploaded 13 posts! So, thank you so much! 

This piece was prompted by one of you, so you can thank the lovely Anon who sent in the idea. 

WARNING: SMUT

WC:1748

SUMMARY: Thanks to Adam, the entire office is nervous about the taser and camera that hunt the employees, but as the day draws to a close and you head home with Joel, you come to the conclusion that you’re safe. 

The mayhem that has ensued at the office today had left you paranoid, peeking around every corner and jogging down each hallway, listening for the spark and buzz of the taser Adam and Joel had managed to obtain. Though as the day draws to an end, you come to the conclusion that they had gotten all of the footage they needed, Joel saving his edits before pushing away from his desk, smiling over as you lounge in the doorway. Drawing himself from his chair, you watch as he stretches his hands above him, letting out a faint noise, the bottom of his shirt brushing above his hips. You feel his hand slip into yours the next moment, you both make your way through the deserted offices, stepping outside into the fresh air that nips at your cheeks and nose; before heading for your car.

 

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Parent Slash Guardian Angel

Gadreel imagine requested by morning-star-in-the-darkness! “Oki like i desperately need a fluffy(LIKE SO MUCH LIKE BELLY RUBS AND BELLY KISSES) Gadreel fic, one where the reader finds out shes pregnant(with gadreel,obvi) and he bevomes super protective over her especially around the brothers. Something where he helps her through all the craziness that is pregnancy and they end up having a little girl at the end. If you need extra details or something just let me know and thanks so much for writing this when you get a chance or if you do c:" This is the first I’ve ever written for Gadreel! I’M EXCITED. This is the first installment of an intended two-part series based on the same request, so expect another imagine for Gadreel to follow within the week, maybe longer. Hope you like it!

You contemplated risking prayer to contact your angelic lover, but quickly shot the idea down into the dust, knowing full well that your recently discovered condition would paint a pretty portrait of you as a hostage to any angel that taps into your invitation home. Thus, you were forced to wait in your squalid motel room, twirling the pregnancy test between your fingers, the plastic of the stick smooth against your skin, the less sanitary end covered with the cap included in one of the four drugstore boxes you’d purchased along with the all important tube. God, you wished you’d made him stay home from this endeavor, you wished you could call him, but the angel saw no need to keep a phone on his being. In truth, it was pointless for any angelic entity to carry a cellular device, what with angel radio and the whole do-not-make-contact-with-humans ordeal… but, well, the contact situation had been more than violated on your behalf, which was why you were waiting for his return in the first place. You had no choice but to bide your time until he zapped back to your humble abode, your stomach twisting around itself, tying knots that would not easily be undone, your anxiety gnawing at your intestines like a parasite. You weren’t afraid, per say, of his reaction, but this entire scenario was new territory for you, and with Gadreel gone, you had no outlet. You knew, in your heart, that he would be thrilled, you just wished he would come home to sap the nervousness from your body. You lowered your gaze to the red addition symbol staring back at you from the ovular screen within the test, tapping the grip against your open palm, plastic slapping against skin the only noise to break the silence.

As if on cue (a delayed cue, but cue no less) a flutter sounded in the space before you, the muddied toes of two boots stepping into view. You lifted your face to find Gadreel’s smile fade, his features warped with his concern. SSeeing you knelt on the floor with your back against the wall must have alerted him that something was amiss, as his brow had furrowed as he approached you, his body crouching in front of your own, his hands smoothing over your forearms, his softened emerald eyes drilling into yours, searching for an answer to your questionable state somewhere among the galaxies in your irises while you explored his. You didn’t have the breath to caution him against reading your thoughts. His eyes widened, glancing downward at the test in your palms as if you were holding a bar of stolen gold, his hardened jawline relaxing to the point where his lips parted, eyes full of wonder, his hands ghosting to your wrists, shell-shocked. You lifted the little plastic stick just slightly, inviting him to hold the pregnancy test, though you knew he didn’t fully understand the human contraption. He pressed his lips together, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, accompanied by an audible swallow, his fingers toying with the comparatively small evidence of your condition, his eyes raising to meet yours, his face contorted with his surprise.

"You mean to tell me this…” he lifted the test higher, holding it between your bodies, just below your faces, “has told you that… that we have created…” he murmured, his velveteen voice stumbling over words he could hardly form into sentences, his eyebrows raised in question. You extended a finger towards the device, tapping your nail against the little plus sign, his eyes dropping to the area you indicated.

“This shows you that it’s positive. If it was negative, you get one line. But… I mean, there are two, so… yeah.” his lips turned upwards in the corners, the shocked shadow of a smile playing over his mouth, his eyes relocating from the positive sign to your face, drifting over every detail he found there. “I took three others, and two of them said the same thing as this one. I don’t think I managed to pee on the right part of the last one, so I didn’t think twice about the negative.” Gadreel’s eyes refused to move, and you were unsure of whether or not he was still too taken aback to reply or if he was sifting through your thoughts, his brows lowering from their high perch as he shook his head, a weak chuckle slipping through his lips. You felt your own smile blossoming across your face, his lips pressed together to keep from beaming, shifting to weasel his way between your knees, your legs wrapping around the outside of his, his hands placing the test on the floor beside your bodies, his palms skirting to your waist. The gesture was intimate, that much was obvious, but it was in no way sexual. He merely wanted to be close to you, his palms spreading warmth along your sides, thumbs running over your ribs.

“You are pregnant, Y/n?” He asked, his chest rising with the force of his inhale, shaking his head once more, his jawline flexing as he bit back another grin. You nodded, his smile bursting through his composure, one hand drifting upward along your body until he had snaked his palm across your cheek, fingers tangling with your hair, his lips moving to yours. When they met, you were flooded with joy, his mouth moving with yours in a patient sort of dance, his lips tugging on yours every so often to secure your body to his, his free hand roaming along your back, inching you away form the wall you had propped yourself against. The angel’s lips left yours after a moment of unadulterated passion, his eyes curious when your own fluttered open, the fireworks fading from the blank landscape of your eyelids. He tilted his head downward, his hand falling to your neck, running his fingers down your spine before reestablishing their former location on your waist. With his head inclined downward, his eyes shot to yours. “May I… may I feel our child?” His voice was tentative and low, whispering though you were alone in your dimly lit motel room, his voice could not be overheard by any but you. You nodded your approval, his hand shifting as he placed a palm flush against your abdomen, his eyes closing in concentration. You were puzzled by his focus until his lips spread over another unabashed smile, his glorious gemstone eyes meeting yours again, his hand rubbing along your soon to be bump before falling still over your center once more. “I cannot wait to meet her, Y/n. This is… wonderful news.”

Her.

You doubted he even understood the extent of his calculation, as your human sciences had to wait months to predict the gender of a child. All he had to do was mix about in the DNA to exclaim the information, his angelic powers paying off. Your lips met once more, the angel scooping your legs higher around his waist before working his way from the ground, his hands clasping to your back in order to lift you into his arms, his lips molten on yours, melting into your mouth with practiced precision, the faint flutter of wings bristling against the peeling wallpaper a magnificent soundtrack to your glee.

“I have never loved you more than I do in this moment.” He whispered against your lips, his words muffled by his desire to continue the contact of your mouth on his, your hands sliding around his neck, pressing him to your lips, tilting his head to yours as he carried you to the mattress, sitting himself down on the edge, holding you to his chest as his tongue traced over your lower lip. When you parted, his eyes were glimmering, catching the light that passed through the dingy shades provided by your temporary landlords, his bone structure thrown into far sharper contrast than before, his eyes marveling at your face. His sincerity was present not only in his touch, but in his gaze, admiration sparkling in the depths of his irises. “Truly, Y/n, I love you. And I will love our child just as much. I will guard you both with my life if I must. Surely, you must know that.” You ducked your lips to his once more, his hand smoothing over your back, taking extra care to treat you with the same delicate hand as one would handle glass, his thumbs spreading over your stomach every so often, feeling for your baby girl.

He Can’t Love You Like I DO - N.A

I KNOW I PROMISED THIS EARLIER BUT MY GRANDMA SHOWED UP AT MY HOUSE THIRTY MINUTES EARLIER THAN SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO AND I DIDN’T HAVE THE HEART TO POST IT SITTING NEXT TO HER!

Also, this is very much so based off of how work went for my last night which gave me the inspiration to write it. Sorry it took so long, anon.

I’ll be over in five.

Nathan sighed looking toward the clock under his television as he stood up from the couch, the clock reading 11:30 PM as he moved towards his refrigerator pulling out the Ben and Jerry’s half baked he had stashed in there for moments like this. He quickly pulled out two spoons, popping off the top as he leaned his arms and bare torso into the island in the middle of the kitchen crossing his sweats covered legs over one another, placing an entire spoonful in his mouth just as his door opened, y/n using the spare key as she dropped her duffle onto the floor next to the door slamming it behind her before making her way to the kitchen, sitting on one of the stools and grabbing the ice cream from him.

“That bad?” he questioned as she got an entire brownie piece into her mouth, chewing on the little piece of heaven as he went to grab her a glass of milk and water. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“I just knew it was going to be an awful night after my first table, Nathan. They had two kids who were literally throwing food everywhere and one of them was holding their cup upside down while chewing on it getting milk everywhere. And guess how much of a tip they left me on a bill of over one hundred? Less than ten percent. I got screwed on tips all night. And, to top it off, my last table was a group whose bill was mostly from alcohol, and they left with their credit card slips. I didn’t even get a tip. I sold two god damned bottles of Champagne to that table and they didn’t even leave me a tip. They didn’t leave until an hour after my shift ended, which meant I had to stay. Oh, and on top of that, I found out from one of the kitchen staff that my boyfriend’s been cheating on me. So I am a newly single woman,” she vented breathing out a heavy sigh as she was on the verge of tears. “I seriously hate my job sometimes, especially when I get walked all over like that.” She took two more scoops of the ice cream before pushing the carton back to him deciding she probably shouldn’t have anything else, desperately just wanting to cuddle with her best friend in bed.

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Rated PG for Panties and Garter belts

Word Count: 3,000

{ Violet looked like she had just stepped straight out of the pages of some Italian Vogue magazine. All Matt could see were those long, delicate legs. When she spun around -heels striking the pavement like a match, dress swirling around her body like a flame, black hair sticking to her burning cheeks- he was amazed that she hadn’t lit the ground on fire.}

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