#I didn’t even get to draw on the plane tho…. I’ll try to draw some on this flight

[swordmaid]

taking my last flight home!!!!!! 😁😁😁😊😊😊😊 so happy hehe

[twodimecastle]

fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

[quirkless-deku-aus]

So um hi, I'm new to this fandom but please hear me out. How about a Tarzan-ish/Tribe DinLuke AU :D

This idea had been pestering me for the past 3 days now but I don't have the time right now to write a whole fanfic but I do have something short written and drawn for it.

SUMMARY:

So Luke, Leai, Han, Chewbacca, Artoo and Threepio went to explore the heart of a huge rain forest (idk what to call it yet) themselves because Leai believes that Gideon's so-called "Expedition" in the said forest is bantha shit and he's actually planning on destroying it. The worst part is that the Senate Council isn't doing anything about it. They're scared for the all of the life forms on that forest so they wanted to take down Gideon by gathering some evidence. When the news about a plane crashing somewhere in the forest took over the internet, they decided to check it out. What they didn't know, however, is that hidden tribes also reside in that forest and they're about to be pulled into something more than they bargained for.

--X--

This is my design for Luke. He still wears his iconic Poncho tho but I don't have the time to draw it yet sksksk Grogu finds him very interesting. He knows ALS and that's why he can communicate with Grogu. Din also finds him very interesting ;D

This is what I imagine Grogu would look like 0u0 he's...an escapee of some sort. He may or may not be selectively mute but he's very cautious of other people. He's very much attached to Din though.

He was on the plane that crashed in the forest, not sure how he survived, he just did. Din found him after he and some of his men decided to investigate the crash site. They took him in but Grogu doesn't have a skull mask of his own yet because he hasn't been officially blessed (?) as part of their tribe since he can't tell them his name. Until Luke came in that is hehe

I had a hard time coming up for Din's design but ngl I think he turned out great. The skull is supposed to be a Mythosaur but I didn't remember it's existence after I finished coloring Din :"D Please note that the color may vary from different screen to screen so it may be paler or darker than my original color palette for him >o< 

Din can understand and speak Basic (English) but he doesn't want to because of his anger towards outsiders. He's fiercely protective of Grogu and a jerk to Luke but he started to lighten up after seeing that they're just here to help them take down Gideon. Luke received extra cookies points for helping them get Grogu officially adopted into their tribe. The claws I was talking about on the sketchpad was his weapon/gloves I think.

Without his skull mask, he kinda looks like Lapu-Lapu (a hero here in the Philippines) because I imagine him with long hair or a mullet. I'll try to draw that when I get the time sksksk

--X--

ALTERNATIVE DARK HIDDEN TRIBE AU (ART CONCEPT COMING SOON):

The thing is that I don't know if I wan't to stick with this plot, I kinda like the idea of Dark!Din more where he captures the group so they could kill them for...food??? Yup, cannibals but I suck at this kind of trope that's why I usually just reads them. *cough* Hannibal *cough* So yeah, it could be a dark ending where they're killed except for Luke who's forced to be Din's spouse. It doesn't help that Grogu likes him and you know that Din would do anything for his precious son.

--X--

BONUS ART (WITHOUT COLOR THO BECAUSE MY FINGER IS KILLING ME):

Grogu is scared of Han for some reason I can't remember 😭 I was writing all of my sleep-deprived ramblings on my sketchpad but yeah, Grogu finds Luke very interesting so he kept following them. They recognized him as one of the missing children on the plane but Grogu was very adamant that he doesn't want to go back. Han suggested that they turn him over for some cash rewards which caused Grogu to cry and for both the Skywalker Twins to smack Han on the back of his head.

It's confrontation time! >:3

So Luke was captured by Boba Fett and was brought to Din since many claims that they saw Grogu with him. The problem is that Grogu was currently with Leia since they all got chased by Gideon's men and they had no choice but to split up. They were after Luke specifically so he gave Grogu to his sister when they split up. Din is furious and he had every right to be so, too bad Luke had to endure his wrath. Luke tries to explain but Din was having none of it and he was about to execute Luke then and there when Grogu comes in to save his ass.

"Grogu wait-!"

Grogu stood in front of Luke with his arms stretched out, "Buir, no!"

Everyone was in stunned silence.

Din was the first one to recover and he easily side-stepped Grogu to point his spear at Luke once more.

"What did you call him?" His voice was so deep and grave that Luke couldn't help shivering from it.

"Answer me."

Luke wetted his lips, "Grogu. That's his name."

"You can understand him." It wasn't even a question.

"Yes."

--X--

That's all! Thank you so much for coming to my TED talk :DDD

I also publish it on AO3 if any of you guys are interested 0u0/

I’ll add the link a little bit later

[free-pool-trash]

folklore - isaac lahey {7/?}

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait I’ve been ridiculously busy the past few weeks 😓BUT!!! As compensation I made this part super long and fluffy with sooooooo much Isaac/reader content (enjoy it while you can because shits gonna be messy from here on out 🤭🙈)

Having said that, I don’t have my laptop right now as I moved houses and my stuff got put into storage so I’m working with the mobile version 😓 sorry in advance if formatting is weird I tried to make it better 😓 also there’s no continue reading button so sorry if this comes up on your dash 😭

Let me know what you think tho I’d really appreciate it 💕

Word count: 5.5k 🙈

Warnings: Fluff 😳, mentions of blood, Derek being a PAIN IN THE ASS, Isaac being the cutest 😌✨, ✨kissing✨, swearing

Masterlist

Tag list (open as always): @makeusfreefromthisfandom om, @cece-lives-here here, @chocolate-raspberries , @belsandthings , @dancing-tacos-23 , @truly-dionysus , @britty443 , @tanyaherondale , @furiouspockettoad , @yunsh-17 17, @random-thoughts-003 , @gloomybrieyxb , @futuristicslimemongerbanana , @linkpk88 , @big-galaxy-chaos , @im-a-stranger-thing , @riaisnotcool (I think u had a username change but idk let me know and I can fix it), @its-evita-here , @pad-foots , @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy , @bookswillfindyouaway , @what-the-hap-is-fuckening , @awkwardnesshabitat , @pieces-by-me me, @wreny24 , @kerosene-angel (if this is the wrong username I’m sorry it wasn’t working the way I had written it down so I’m assuming I just took it down wrong 😳 it it’s not you let me know and I’ll remove you), @marveloucnco o, @babypink224221 let me know if you’d like to be added <3 (strike through means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you)

The days you’d spent in Mystic Falls bled into weeks and soon enough you were being beckoned back to Beacon Hills with a head full of things you hadn’t had a clue about two weeks prior.

There, of course, was the matter of Peter- who was now dead, well technically, he was murdered.

Derek’s first course of action as Beacon Hills’ new alpha was to break the news to you. He’d killed him but due to Scott and Stiles’ constant text updates, you knew it would’ve had to be done sooner or later. But still, you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last of him. That small intuitive feeling in the back of your mind told you that you’d see him again soon. You just hoped your next meeting wouldn’t be happening because you ended up buried next to him.

Over the course of your stay with Alaric, who had left you in the care of the Salvatore brothers- Stefan and Damon, you’d honed several new vampiric powers. As it turned out, some of the powers you possessed were completely unfamiliar to the vampires of over a hundred years.

You had super speed, it wasn’t just enhanced as you’d previously thought. As well as that, you’d discovered that you could run circles around both Stefan and Damon Salvatore, who were obviously a lot older and therefore should’ve been a lot faster.

And for that matter, they should’ve been stronger than you, they should’ve been able to snap you like a twig. They should’ve been able to. But they weren’t. Because not only were you faster, you were stronger too.

While having super speed and super strength was nice, mind compulsion, your most recent discovery, now that was incredible. All you had to do was look into someone’s eyes and they would become completely entranced to do whatever you told them.

Despite being over a hundred years old, neither Stefan nor Damon had ever seen a vampire quite like you.

They’d never seen a vampire who was also an empath, that, apparently, was usually more of a witch thing. Neither of them had ever come across a vampire bite which had a euphoric effect either. But having said all of that… they’d never heard of someone being turned from a wolf bite. Or a vampire who still had a beating heart, for that matter.

Your only real downfalls were that, for one, your blood’s healing capacity didn’t operate at the same speed for you as it did when being used to heal others. You’d put this down to the possibility that maybe your system had just grown too used to it. To be perfectly honest, though, you had no idea.

Secondly, your empathic tendencies were beginning to bring you down, but it wasn’t just that… it was the way in which you’d been instructed, by Damon Salvatore himself, on how to make them stop.

The plane ride home to California dragged on longer than you would’ve liked, the flight was delayed and you were absolutely starving by the time Derek picked you up from the airport. Your parents were still away, they’d travelled to Romania in search of answers to your predicament and they wouldn’t be home until at least next week, so that left Derek on chauffeur and babysitting duty.

“How are you?” He’d only spoken up thirty minutes into the car ride, you let out a sigh from the passenger seat and gave him a tired smile, you could feel the nerves radiating from him. He was afraid you’d be mad at him for killing Peter, and maybe you should’ve been, but again, you had a feeling he’d be back, and besides, spending time with Damon had helped you realise that everything wasn’t so black and white. It finally registered with you that people like Derek and Damon, the dark mysterious bad boys with secret hearts of gold- they sometimes did bad things but with good intentions.

Once you discovered this, you decided amongst yourself that you’d ease up on your not-really-big-brother in the future. Even if it meant you got hurt a little in the process. If hurting you was what he needed to do to learn his lesson then you’d be willing to make that sacrifice.

So you gave him a soft smile and answered, “Hungry.”

Derek let out a chuckle at that, nodding his head towards the backseat, drawing your attention to the three full blood bags laying on the leather seats.

A delighted gasp left your mouth as you snatched the plastic bags into your hands, wasting no time you stuck the attached tube into your mouth and began gulping the first bag down- it was definitely Stiles’ blood you were drinking, you’d gotten so used to the taste of it you were sure you could recognise it anywhere.

Letting out a happy groan you threw your head back against the headrest, “Stiles Stilinski you are a doll.”

Derek chuckled again, glancing at you fondly before his steely eyes returned to the road ahead.

It was only another 30 minutes before you were back in your driveway. “So are you staying here until my parents get back?” You questioned from the porch as Derek got your bags from the trunk of his car, the wolf shook his head with a smile, “Nah, I’ve got some stuff to do at home.”

“Derek, that home isn’t even structurally sound.” You chastised softly. Surely he’d be happier spending time with the family he still had breathing rather than living in the remnants of what used to be his.

Walking up to the porch, Derek placed your case down gently by your feet and moved himself to stand in front of you. A genuine smile painted his lips as he gazed at you, “New rule.” He stated, placing both of his hands on either of your forearms before going on, eyes staring affectionately into your own, “From now on, I will be doing all the worrying about you, alright? Not the other way around.”

With a defeated sigh, you nodded your head. “I’ll try my best.” That had been a lie. Unable to blind you with his unusually sweet sentiment, through the physical contact you could tell he was scheming.

“Good. Now, go get some rest I’ll come check up on you in the morning.” He kissed your forehead and then made his way back to his car, speeding out of your driveway and out of sight before you’d even unlocked the door.

The house was cold and empty when you’d re-entered. A shiver ran up your spine the second your feet stepped past the threshold. Something was very wrong, and unfortunately, you couldn’t tell what exactly it was that was so wrong. The feeling was unnerving, it was dark and it was agonisingly heavy. Like anxiety on steroids, lots of steroids.

Swallowing thickly, you gripped -more like clawed- at your chest. Nails scraping your skin as you attempted to catch a single breath, though it seemed that oxygen was determined to outrun you as you glanced around helplessly.

Almost twenty minutes has passed as you heaved and gasped frantically, overwhelming dread flooded your chest while simultaneously tears flooded your eyes, and still you didn’t have even the slightest idea of what it all meant.

And then it hit you. That panic- it didn’t belong to you.

Within a second you’d risen to your feet, breathing still staggered while you rushed out the front door, your vampire speed being put to good use as within seconds you were where your panic had led you. Night had fallen by now and it was completely dark, not to mention absolutely freezing, the hoodie you had on doing nothing to protect you from the biting cold in the air. The trail of feelings you’d been chasing had led you to Beacon Hills cemetery and before your eyes, there it was, the something that was very wrong.

Derek and Isaac. More specifically, Derek’s teeth buried in Isaac’s arm. You hadn’t even registered what you were doing when you ripped Derek from Isaac and violently threw him across the cemetery, the impact in which the Hale hit the tree all the way at the edge of the graveyard was a testimony to your strength. You hadn’t even used half it.

Without hesitation, you inspected Isaac’s body frantically, eyes lingering on the bloody bite across his right arm. Slowly and mournfully, your eyes met his, which were wide with shock. His heart was beating out of his chest to the point where you couldn’t ignore it.

“What did he do to you?” The question slipped out as a whisper, your anger melted away only to be replaced by dread as Isaac began to speak, “He offered me the bite and I- I said yes.”

“Isaac…” Your gaze drifted to the bite and you weren’t surprised to see it already healed. “I’m sorry.” You heard him mutter from above you, his anxiety pooling in your chest and mixing with his guilt.

Shaking your head softly you pulled him into you, your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders while his own arms held you tightly against him as you kissed his temple to release him of the intense anxiety plaguing him. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.”

He relaxed against you upon hearing your words, the two weeks you’d been gone made him realise something, he was utterly useless without you, or so he thought. He felt weak. He felt as though if he didn’t have you as emotional support he was defective. Derek had honed in on that and manipulated it to his advantage, convinced Isaac that the bite was what he needed in order to be strong by himself. To keep you safe instead of you protecting him all of the time.

“Was that really necessary?” Derek’s voice broke the moment and you found anger was surging through you once again. You separated from Isaac to face Derek.

At this point, you didn’t care what his intentions had been, you weren’t going to let him away with this.

“I’m going to give you three seconds to explain why you did this.” As Derek moved to speak you ruthlessly cut him off. “Too slow.” And with that the back of your hand met his cheek, again sending him flying, only not as far this time.

His fangs were barred now, as were yours. Both of your eyes glowing, his red ones threatening as he attempted to demonstrate his power. And yet again, you had a revelation.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that fell from your lips, a synacal and sarcastic lilt to it as you towered over Derek’s form on the floor.

“Oh I get it!” You exclaimed, lip held between your teeth in mock disbelief you pressed your palm to your forehead as you spoke, “You thought you’d go around and stalk some kids so you could add to your big bad pack. Right?” He growled at you and attempted to pick himself up, only for you to give a swift, hard kick to his chest, returning his back to the dirt.

“I guess you told him it’d make him stronger? That it’d make all of his problems go away? And what about the Argent’s, huh? Did you tell him that you were manipulating him?” It was then, again in panic, Isaac spoke up to your surprise, in Derek’s defence.

“(Y/n), I promise it isn’t like that! He told me everything, it was my choice I said yes!” You spared him a glance before crouching down to Derek.

“Well did you tell him how you usually treat your pack?” The words were dripping in venom and the guilt that radiated from the man didn’t deter you from moving forward with you verbal attack, your head turning to Isaac, your eyes sparkling with sadness as you locked eyes with him, speaking hoarsely you wondered out loud, “Did he tell you that he’s a liar? That he doesn’t know how to run a pack? That if he doesn’t understand you he’ll leave you in the dust?”

The look on his face spoke volumes as he recalled the state Derek had put you in the weeks previous.

With a final sneer in Derek’s direction you delivered your parting words, “You better treat him better than you continue to treat me or so help me Derek Hale I will tear you to shreds.”

As you angrily stormed away, Isaac stood in confusion for a second before he began to chase after you, leaving Derek on the dirt floor to help himself.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) please wait!” He shouted as he was just starting to catch up to you. When you felt that you were at a good enough distance away from Derek you finally slowed your pace.

When Isaac finally made it to your side, he was panting slightly, swallowing the lump in his throat he nervously grabbed your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, his eyes resembling those of a puppy and you could already feel your composure slipping away from you as you looked at him.

It’d been almost three weeks since you’d seen him, three weeks since you’d made out in the school basement and this definitely wasn’t how you were expecting the reunion to go.

“Isaac it isn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you, ok? I get it. I’m just worried, this town isn’t exactly kind on the supernatural.” You reassured him gently, squeezing his hand and giving him a sad smile.

“Don’t worry about me.” Isaac told you and you had to laugh, “Sorry, babe but I will not be taking my eyes off you until this town becomes normal.”

Isaac’s face was then taken over by, what could only be described as, a Cheshire Cat smile, “Did you just call me babe?” His voice was teasing and you felt your face heating up despite your freezing temperature.

Sucking on the inside of your cheek you tried your best to conceal your growing smile, you shrugged innocently, “Yeah. What about it?” The playful lilt in your voice had his smile widening even more as he began to lean down to you, his face getting closer to yours by the second.

His breath fanned across your lips when he spoke next, “I liked it.” With that, his lips pressed to yours cautiously, as if he was still unsure of whether or not it was okay to do so.

His uncertainty melted away when he felt your lips begin to reciprocate his actions and your hands moved to cup his cheeks.

The both of you could agree that this kiss was different than the last one you’d shared a few weeks ago. “Why is it that we only ever kiss when one of us is coming out as a supernatural creature?” Isaac laughed against your lips as you pulled away with a sigh.

“It would be us wouldn’t it.”

After a few minutes of nagging at Isaac you managed to put all the pieces of Derek’s plan together. Isaac himself didn’t actually know all that much, just that he was the first to be turned, but that alone told you everything that you needed to know.

Derek was now an alpha with no pack, so logically, a pack was what he was building and that would have been perfectly understandable- if he hadn’t started with your best friend.

“There’s a full moon coming up, did he tell you what would happen?” You questioned gently, ready to throttle Derek when the boy in front of you shook his head.

Heaving a deep breath you squeezed his hand reassuringly, the initial excitement of being turned had worn off and Isaac was beginning to radiate anxiety once again.

“Don’t worry okay? I’m gonna call Scott, he’ll be able to help you.” Isaac’s eyebrows came together in confusion, “Scott McCall?”

You nodded your head, “He’ll know how to help.” You tried to convince Isaac without spilling Scott’s secret. Not that it was going to stay a secret for too long, but it wasn’t your secret to tell.

Isaac shook his head rapidly, his hands moving to hold your forearms, his panic at your suggestion hitting you like a freight train as he stared into your eyes, a wild look in his own.

“No no no no. You can’t tell anyone. (Y/n) promise me you won’t tell anyone okay? If my dad finds out I’m a werewolf he’ll-“ The words came out almost as fast as you could run and his panic only intensified when his father entered his mind.

Quickly catching on to his looming panic attack as his eyes began to glow yellow you cut him off, “Isaac.”

He didn’t hear you as he kept rambling, claws growing past his nails and digging into your arm, “No he’ll kill me. Oh my god he’s gonna kill me. (Y/n) he’s go-“

Yes, it would’ve been easy to rip your arms from his grasp that was causing you quite a lot of pain as his nails sunk into your skin as his hands held onto you desperately. However, you had a feeling that his hold on your now bloody forearms was the only thing keeping him from spiralling completely out of control.

“Isaac! Look at me!” Your voice was strict but served to make his amber eyes finally settle on yours.

Gently, you finally slipped your arms out of Isaac’s clawed grip, although you were sure it would’ve been less painful to just leave them, his claws dragged down your arms while you lifted them slowly and cautiously until you replaced them with your hands, using your new grasp of the boy to provide him with some peace of mind.

You focused your energy on shifting a sense of relaxation from your own palms to Isaac’s sweaty ones as you spoke, voice soft again, “I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s just you and me, alright? Focus on me, yeah?” Isaac nodded his head, still slightly frantic but calmer than before as he did as you told and simply focused on you, “Take a deep breath.” You instructed, breathing steadily along with him until his eyes returned to their natural blue colour and his claws retracted.

A moment of silence passed with Isaac slumped against you, hands held tightly in his while he steadied his breathing. You placed your lips to his cheek and then again to the bruise forming beneath his right eye, you hadn’t noticed it earlier. You’d almost forgotten it’d been nearly three weeks since you’d been together, he’d probably been though it with his demon of a sperm doner over the time you were away.

“I’ve missed you.” It was Isaac that broke the silence when your lips disconnected from his injured face.

“I missed you too.” You replied simply, there was so much you’d planned on saying to him while you were in Mystic Falls but at the moment, you felt there were more pressing matters to discuss and again, it was Isaac who spoke.

He pulled away slightly to look at you properly, hands still clasping yours, he gave them a squeeze before he started speaking, “This pack that Derek’s building… I’m guessing you’re not in it?”

“I was never asked. But I’ve kind of already got a pack, which you are more than welcome to join.” You responded hopefully, wishing he’d agree but you knew he wouldn’t. As such a fresh beta he’d stay loyal to his alpha, but, you had to ask.

Isaac nodded his head sadly, “Scott McCall?” You let out a small laugh, at how quickly he’d caught on, “Yeah. He’s not exactly an alpha but he’s helped me out a lot, more than Derek has.”

“Derek told me that wolves are stronger as a pack, he didn’t say anything about vampires though.” Isaac went on, a confused lilt in his voice.

“I found out in Mystic Falls that vampires rarely belong to packs and by vampire nature I don’t need one, but Ric figures that it’s in my nature to want one since it’s all I’ve ever known.” You relayed the information to Isaac.

“Then why not, you know, join mine?” His lip was pulled between his teeth and he was looking at you with a hopeful expression.

“Isaac I just told you…” You said pleadingly, you didn’t want to upset him any further but you also couldn’t throw away the pack bond you’d built with Scott and Stiles when you’d first turned. If it was a matter of Isaac’s pack being made up of just Isaac there would’ve been no problems, it was the fact that it wasn’t Isaac’s pack but Derek’s.

Scratching what you’d decided about Derek earlier, you came to a new agreement with yourself: all of hell would freeze over before you even thought of easing up on Derek Hale.

Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “Come on, (N/n)! We are not going to let our love play out like Romeo and Juliet!” The way he spoke was humorous but it was obvious that he wasn’t really joking.

With a sigh you moved your shaking hands, that were now covered in scabbed over cuts as opposed to their previous status of raw and bleeding, to Isaac’s face. Your thumbs moved gently along his cheek bones as you took him in with an encouraging smile on your face as you told him confidently, “I refuse to let us become a modern day Romeo and Juliet, that’s not happening.”

You pulled him closer to you, slipping your arms around his shoulders and doing your best to ignore the butterflies rioting in your stomach when his arms wrapped tentatively around your waist.

You brought your lips to meet his briefly before fixing him with another determined look, “But listen to me, we might be loyal to different packs but I’m on your side, no matter what.”

Isaac nodded his head in understanding, “If it comes down to it, I’m always gonna choose you.” He responded honestly, arms tightening around you to hold you against his chest, his height causing his chin to be tilted downwards so that he could meet your eyes.

“I meant what I said to Derek, by the way.” You informed, Isaac’s eyebrows rose in confusion again, “If he mistreats you I’ll tear him apart.”

“Should I give Scott the same warning?” Isaac asked humorously and you had to shake your head in order to hold back a laugh.

It wasn’t until you’d separated from your embrace with Isaac that you took into account the fact that your body was now shaking with the cold.

“Come on, I’ve gotta call my dad and probably the sheriff and you’re freezing.” Isaac stated, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you back to the cemetery where you noticed his overturned excavator and the dug up grave plot.

You listened with curiosity while Isaac spoke to his father on the phone, trying to explain exactly what had transpired in the last couple of hours since his shift started.

“How the hell does an excavator just flip over, Isaac?” You could hear his fathers anger through the line and Isaac fumbled for a response, “Someone, or something- I don’t know it could’ve been an animal, but it got pushed from the side and tipped over. I fell into the plot I was digging and that was it, I didn’t see the rest.” He explained weakly.

“You still stuck in hole, you idiot?” You watched as Isaac clenched his jaw and motioned to yourself when he was finally looking at you, “No. No, um, (Y/n) just got back from Virgina, she came looking for me and helped me out.”

“She still there?” His father questioned, seemingly cooling off at the mention of your name. You hated how much that man seemed to like you when he should’ve held that affection for his actual son.

“Yeah, she’s with me now.” Isaac confirmed and you offered up a fake cheerful, “Hi, Mr Lahey!”

“Invite her over while I call the sheriff and see about getting this mess cleaned up.” With that, he hung up the phone and Isaac sighed, “You’re starting to look like Mr. Freeze, let’s get you warmed up.” His arm stayed comfortably wrapped around your shoulder and as you reached up to hold his hand that was hanging over your shoulder you stopped dead in your tracks, “Isaac, I can’t go and greet your father looking like this.”

You motioned to your torn and bloodstained hoodie, immediately regretting it when his eyes widened in shock, “Did I… oh god (Y/n) did I do that?”

Not missing a beat you grabbed his hands and made sure you soothed his panic before you got a rerun of earlier.

“It’s not your fault. You’re new to this, okay? Mistakes happen and that’s fine it’s all part of the process. And look!-” You pulled off the hoodie to reveal your now completely healed arms and hands, nothing but dried blood to show that the claw marks were even there in the first place. “‘M all healed up! No harm done.” You reassured him, bringing his lips to yours to further convince him that you were okay and distract him from the guilt you could feel building within him.

Your arms, although no longer cut, were covered in goosebumps as Isaac ran his hands affectionately down the length of them. “It won’t happen again.” He promised and you gave him a shaky smile, teeth beginning to chatter, “Let’s go home?” Isaac nodded his head, nothing short of ripping his own hoodie off before pulling your arms through the sleeves and moving himself in front of you to zip it up.

You watched completely content as he fumbled with the zipper. His curls were falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were squinted in concentration. The quiet, but triumphant, “got it” he let out when he finally finessed the zipper had you grinning like a fool.

When he moved his focus from the zip and back to your face, he smiled bashfully, “What’re you looking at me like that for?”

The sleeves of his hoodie, that was miles too big for you, hung far past your wrists and brushed against the nape of his neck, your fingers finding a place tangled in his hair while you stared at him, grin ever present.

Your other hand was otherwise occupied being placed firmly against Isaac’s chest, enjoying the feeling of his rapidly beating heart, and you didn’t know it entirely. But in that moment it was beating for you and you alone.

Isaac’s hand made itself comfortable holding your waist, the other holding your own against his chest, keeping it in place.

Neither of you needed to say it. You could both feel it. But still, you found yourself uttering the words, “I love you.”

Not half a second had passed before Isaac echoed your declaration, “I love you.”

“I feel like if I kiss you right now I won’t be able to stop but I’m still freezing my ass off so… your place?”

Isaac nodded his head in agreement, “My place.”

*

Upon arrival at the Lahey residence, Mr. Lahey had greeted you with a wide smile and ushered you into the kitchen where he instructed Isaac to make you some tea, to which Isaac had to restrain a grumble as he’d been planning on doing it anyway.

Mr. Lahey was happily chatting away to you when Isaac set down two cups of tea, one in front of his father and one in front of you, his eyes lingering on you with a certain kind of glint before he turned back to the counter to grab his own cup and returning to sit beside you at the table.

Isaac was, in all honesty, losing it. He didn’t even know why. You were just sitting there, wrapped up in his hoodie, nose ever so slightly pink from the cold, talking politely to his father. It was nothing out of the ordinary but he was finding it hard to think about anything other than how his hoodie would look splayed on the floor of his bedroom.

He wasn’t very good at hiding it either, you could feel it as clear as day. Teenage boy hormones mixing with teenage werewolf hormones were causing havoc and it’d be a lie to say it wasn’t having an affect on you.

Trying to return your attention to whatever Mr.Lahey was babbling about you clearing your throat and took a sip of your tea, keeping your expression neutral as Isaac’s hand slipped to your knee under the table. His attempt to pull you into his mess of hormones was obviously successful as you found yourself ready to yell out in frustration when his hand stayed put on your knee for a solid twenty minutes before his father finally rose from the table.

“I’m going to check out the situation at the cemetery, you’re welcome to stay tonight, it’s pretty dangerous out there these days.” Mr. Lahey offered and you smiled innocently at him as he stood in the doorway, “I think I’ll take you up on that. Thank you.” The older man gave you a nod but said no more before walking out the front door.

“What the hell are you doing?” You finally burst when the front door clicked shut, whipping around to face Isaac.

“What?” He asked as if his hand didn’t start sliding further up your leg the second his father left the room.

You groaned, “Don’t ‘what?’ me when you’re about four centimetres from having your hand between my thighs!”

“Sorry.” He immediately retracted his hand, eyes wide as he realised how close his hand was to reaching the top of your thigh, “I, um, I didn’t mean to- I mean, I did mean to but i won’t do it again if you don’t want me to-“

“Isaac.” You cut him off, lip pulled between your teeth, “I want you to.” You declared and he let out a heavy sigh full of relief, “Thank God.” He muttered before he was pulling you up off the chair and right against his chest.

His lips immediately found yours and his hands were gripping your waist like there was no tomorrow.

At this point, the butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely bat shit feral when his lips began to trail past your lips, to your chin, then to the curve of your jaw. It was when his hand slipped deftly up your side to settle against your jaw that you realised just how much you’d been wanting this.

Isaac’s lips fell further to your neck and you couldn’t stop the hum of approval that escaped your mouth at the sensation of his soft lips sucking and licking at your pulse. “It this okay?” He asked in a mutter, the dainty and nervous nature of his voice contrasting greatly with the confidence and ferocity of his actions.

Your hands tugged gently at his hair to get him to meet you clouded eyes, when he looked at you you were sure that his eyes had flashed yellow, his breathing was getting heavy and you had an inkling that his lips on your neck was the most exciting thing that was going to happen between you tonight.

“It’s more than okay.” You told him with a dopey smile, letting out a laugh when he dived back into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin through a smile.

Despite your words your hands moved to his chest to push him away slightly, “But…” you started as Isaac threw his head back with a groan, “I think we should stop, and maybe revisit this after the full moon passes.”

After taking in a steadying breath Isaac nodded in agreement, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” His hand slipped into yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours, he spent a moment just looking at your linked hands with a fond smile and the look of achievement on his face. It was easy to tell, with the help of your empathic powers, that Isaac was proud of himself.

You yourself couldn’t quite pinpoint why he was feeling so prideful in the moment, but he knew. To be truthful he wasn’t just proud of himself, he was downright ecstatic. He’d been nothing more than your best friend since you were both eleven, and now, six years later he finally crossed the threshold from being your best friend to being your- well actually now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what he is to you now.

A few hours passed before Isaac worked up the courage to ask the question that had formed in his mind after his make out session with you earlier.

The pair of you had since gotten comfortable in his bed, which was nothing particularly new. You laid on your side with your back to the bedroom door, Isaac was behind you, his chin tucked in between your shoulder and your neck with his arms around your torso holding you close to him.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice broke through the silence and you responded with a tired hum, adjusting his arm so you could snuggle closer and tried your best to stop yourself from falling asleep while he murmured softly in your ear.

“What are we?” He kept his eyes trained on the dark room ahead of him, his hand grabbing yours as you readjusted his arm and he absentmindedly began playing with your fingers, the action being successful in calming his nerves.

“What do you want us to be?” You asked sleepily in response, a small smile forming on your face as you heard his heartbeat speeding up.

Isaac let out a nervous breath against your neck and you held back a shudder at the feeling, “I was kind of thinking that all the kissing would make us a couple.” Letting out another sleepy hum, if it was even physically possible, you snuggled deeper into his hold. You sluggishly turned your head to place a light kiss against his cheek, “Then we’re a couple.”

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 33

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.1k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: i actually enjoyed writing this. but i feel like i forgot something and i cant put my fingers on it.

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : here they are! hope you like them! changed the second one a bit tho

Chapter 33 : His chapter

NIALL

March 29th, 2018

Ninteen days. Nineteen long days without her and I was back again in Dublin for a show before I could take a plane to her and spend over two weeks with her. If I wanted to be honest with myself, these past weeks had been horrible. I waited for her calls like a dependent and crazy boyfriend and it made me think that perhaps, it was how she felt when I spent so much time at a bar, back then. I could pretend I was not scared that the feelings she had for Dylan would somehow change and become stronger than the ones she had for me, but deep down, I knew It was a fear of mine. They say 'out of sight, out of mind', right?

I didn't know if I should worry or not because despite the fact that she has loved me for as long as she can remember, I was well aware that feelings change. After all, she hadn't broken up with Dylan for me, she had made that clear and I knew anyway, which meant that going back to him was always an option. I shook my head, a bit lost in my thoughts, as people around me were laughing and preparing the show. I didn't want to go out there and sing, I didn't want to be here. Not if she was somewhere else.

I did everything like a zombie, feeling a bit numb, and finally grabbed my guitar and putting a smile on my face. I jumped slightly when I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see a blond head, making me smile more.

"You alright?"

I blinked a few times and just nodded before turning around but suddenly, I felt my heart jump in my chest.

"Jules?" i asked loud enough for her to hear me. "Where's Liv's note? I was sure I put it here."

Julia frowned and started looking around before shaking her head. "Are you sure you left it here?"

My heartbeats started accelerating. I knew I had to be on stage in less than two minutes and I had completely forgotten about the note. In fact, my mind had been blank for a few hours. Julia and I both started searching everywhere and I was literally starting to panic. I knew it was not that big of a deal if I missed opening her envelop one time, or even if I walked on stage 10 minutes late, but for some reason, it stressed me so much it made me want to puke.

I don't know how long it took but I saw Julia run back to me, her arm up in the air, holding a pink envelop, zigzagging to dodge people on her way to me. I sighed and felt the stress falter. She got in front of me and I snatched the envelop from her hands before pulling her into a tight hug.

"Thank you!"

She chuckled and pulled away before grabbing my phone and licking her lips. "Okay, open it, I'm filming you."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, feeling suddenly a bit more relaxed. The show could wait and if I wanted to be honest, I was impatient to smell Olivia's perfume from the paper, to see her horrible handwriting and the little hearts she always draw everywhere. It was the boost I needed before going up there to spend two hours singing songs that reminded me of her. I needed it. It became more than an habit, I was fucking addicted.

Quickly, I teared the envelop and let it fall on the floor as the scent of honey and vanilla filled my nose. I glanced up at the camera and noticed how big Julia was smiling. I hadn't told her that Olivia and I were more than friend but she had heard the whole story and somehow, she had pushed me to go back to her. I never followed her advice because I knew Olivia was with Dylan but now that it was a secret, I felt bad for lying to her. I had told her about the letters Olivia gave me but hadn't mentioned that they were filled with dirty stuff and love words, and now that she was filming, it was going to be tough answering whatever Liv had written in that note.

"Hey petal." I said in a soft tone, looking at my phone. "Last letter of yours before I fly back there! Hope you're ready for pubs and movie nights because I fucking am!" I laughed and looked down to read the purple glitter words on the pale pink paper, my face changing more and more as my eyes scanned the letter.

'Niall James Horan, I love you. I want nothing but to be with you right now. And maybe I actually am. If you look carefully, you may see me.'

I frowned and looked up at Julia who chuckled a bit. "Turn the sheet."

I did it quickly and noticed she had written something else. 'Yes, dumbass. I'm here. I took a plane to you. Now go on stage. I'll hold you in my arms as soon as your show is over.'

Julia kept filming and moved closer to me, snatching the letter from my hand and pushing me toward the stage. I tried to resist, my eyes looking around to see where she was and Julia laughed more.

"Go, Niall! You'll see her soon!"

I frowned and turned to her, my eyes getting bigger.

"You knew?" I asked in a shocked tone, making her shrug. "Wait, where is she?"

"Stage!" Julia said with her soft light voice, trying to be firm. "Now!"

I kept looking around but finally walked on stage, starting with the first song. I knew the song by heart and didn't really have to think much. It was good since all my thoughts were taken by my best friend, wondering if she was really here and if yes, when would I be able to take her in my arms. I finished the song and when I turned around, my eyes caught someone on the side of the stage. No one in the crowd could see her but when our eyes met, her lips curled more. She hadn't changed at all. She tilted her head and pressed her lips together and even though I shouldn't have, I literally ran backstage, held my guitar to the first person I saw and wrapped my arms around her neck as she wrapped hers around my chest.

"Fuck, you’re really here." I whispered, leaning my cheek on her head before kissing her hair and holding her tighter.

She chuckled but I felt her shake in my arms as if she was sobbing and she squeezed me harder, rubbing her cheek on my shirt a few times before gripping it in my back. It took her a few minutes but she finally sniffed and tried to get out of my embrace.

"You need to go back." she pointed out in a low tone, but I still heard her voice break.

"Just a few more seconds." I replied, pulling her back in my arms.

It was torture to not be able to kiss her and tell her how much I loved her but I moved my head down, bringing my lips very close to her ear.

"I fucking missed you. I can't believe you're here." I whispered, feeling my bottom lip brush against her ear. "You're the best gift I ever had."

She chuckled and pushed me away gently again, wiping a tear on her cheek and moving her chin in my direction. "Go!"

I hesitated but finally got back on stage to sing a few more songs but when I started Flicker, I couldn't help but glance at Olivia over and over again. The memories of writing this song and of the falling we had at the end of our relationship started flooding me and I suddenly felt myself tear up. I had to stop near the end of the song and just walked off stage again, going back to her. This time, I didn't even take the time to put my guitar away, I just moved it in my back in a swift movement and gripped my best friend again, pulling her against me.

"I want to kiss you." I whispered as she nuzzled my neck, feeling tears fall down my cheeks despite myself.

"Me too, Niall."

"I love you okay?" I added quickly in a low tone, my eyes closed, trying to stop crying. "I love you and that song is so fucking tough to sing."

I heard her swallow hard and she brushed her nose on my neck. "I'm here now. I'm back. And I'm not leaving."

"I'm not leaving either. Never again."

                                                ----

We ended up backstage after the show and all grabbed a beer. Olivia was laughing with Julia a bit afar and I couldn't take my eyes off her. I wasn't even aware that these two actually talked to each other but watching them interact made me feel good for a reason I ignored. Perhaps, the fact that Olivia was ready to get to know more of my friends made this whole thing easier. Back then, she only really hung out with Louis or the people we hung out with before I was famous. She never really showed interest in meeting my other friends or hanging out with people I met as a singer and even if I understood she didn't feel at ease, it still made me sad.

They both turned to me and looked back at each other before laughing together and I suddenly got curious. I got up and walked to them, bending slightly between them and raising my eyebrows.

"You guys are talking about me?"

"Were we?" Julia asked with a frown, a big smile still gracing her lips and a dimple digging in her cheek.

"We were talking about how incredible Julia had been. She was so discreet you didn't see it coming." Olivia replied, turning to me and sending me a smile, too. "I think she's officially my favorite friend of yours, now."

I looked at Liv as she turned to Julia again and they both laughed some more. It was horrible that I couldn't just grab her and kiss her but I still moved my arm around her waist and I could have sworn her smile got bigger.

"Yea, well done." I admitted, shaking my head. "And now I have two free weeks and we can spend it here. What do you say?"

"I only have a few days, Nee, I'm sorry." she admitted, her facial expression turning into a guilty one. "But I can join you in France when you start your tour again? I asked that week to go see my parents."

My eyes roamed on her face and I felt something break inside me. It took me half a second to take a decision.

"I'll just go back to Cali with you." I let out in a low voice, moving a bit closer to her. "Maybe I can go to one of your filming days?"

Her lips curled and she glanced at Julia, making me suddenly remember that we were not alone. I turned to Julia too and saw her try to hide a smile by pressing her lips hard together. She turned around and walked away to go talk to someone else and I turned back to Liv, raising my nose up in a grimace.

"Oops, sorry." I whispered, holding my breath. "You think she knows?"

"If she's not completely stupid yea. I mean, the girl has two functioning eyes and two clearly great ears, if I trust the way she sings. So yea, she knows." Olivia pointed out with a chuckle.

"You're not mad?"

She tilted her head as she stared at me, her amused smile turning quickly into a fond one. I felt my palm burn on her back, over her shirt, and she sighed low.

"Niall, I think it's time you bring me back to your hotel room, what do you say?"

I didn't have a hotel room. In fact, I was ready to leave right after the show to catch my plane but now that plans had changed, I had to think about something, and there was no way I was going back to sleep at my parents'.

"I'll find one."

I quickly grabbed my phone in my pocket and called the hotel I stayed in the night before to reserve a room. I sighed in relief when I found out they weren't all taken and finally hung up and turned back to her.

"Done."

Her lips curled and she nodded and quickly, we said our goodbyes to everyone. No one insisted that we stayed or followed them to a bar and we just took a cab and left. She didn't kiss me until the hotel room's door closed behind us and I didn't try to force anything, but I couldn't pretend the whole ride was not painful.

Her mouth crashed on mine after she dropped her bags and I finally let mine fall too as she deepened the kiss. I could feel her smile against my lips and chuckled, bringing both my hands to her back and slipped them under her shirt.

"Watching the nudes you send while I jerk off every fooking night isn't enough." I admitted, trailing kisses quickly down her neck. "I want to bring you with me for the rest of the tour, I miss your body too much."

She giggled like a school girl and it made me smile more. "You want me to follow you everywhere so you can use me whenever you need a good fuck?"

"Yes, petal." I admitted in a whisper after letting out a groan. "How much would you like to be my little cum dump? How much do you want me to just grab your hair and fuck your fanny until I cum every fucking time I need it?"

"Mm, someone is in serious need of a good fuck." she pointed out, running her hand on my cock, over my pants. "You're being very nasty."

"You love it, don't even pretend otherwise."

She chuckled against my mouth and quickly worked on my pants. I unbuttoned hers and slipped my hand in her panties, making her head fall back slightly and her eyes flutter.

"You like that, princess?" I asked, brushing my lips on her jaw and neck. "I really need to fuck you hard and fast. You're so wet I'm sure you can cum fast, yeah?"

"Too horny for love making tonight, I see." she whispered with a smile, making me groan again.

"If you want me to make love to you petal, I will." I groaned low. "That shows how much I love you because I'm so fucking horny I don't really want to go slow."

She pulled away slightly and her eyes met mine. She tilted her head and stared at me for a few seconds before licking her lips.

"Fuck me hard and fast, then." she proposed. "We got all night anyway, yea?"

"Pet, if you allow me to fuck you 10 times tonight I fucking will."

She started laughing and I shut her up by pressing my lips against hers and immediately deepening the kiss. I loved the taste of her tongue and when she grabbed mine to suck on it, I slipped a finger inside her and started rubbing my thumb slowly on her clit. She moaned in my mouth and I felt her body tense, making me smile more.

"Apparently, I'm not the only one who needs a proper fuck."

It took us less than a minute to get naked and when I sat on the bed, she quickly straddled me and sat on my cock. I wrapped my arms around her as she let out a low whimper, closing her eyes. I grabbed her hair from behind and pulled on it, making her moan again as I brought my hand between us right after licking my thumb. I pressed it on her clit and she squirmed a bit, making me hold her hair tighter.

"It feels so fucking good to be balls deep inside you, pet."

I ran my tongue on one of her breasts and felt her nipple harden against it. I loved the way her body reacted to every single one of my touches. She squirmed a bit and I groaned as I felt her throb around my cock before grabbed her other breasts hard.

"Missed your tits so much." I slapped it gently and she squirmed again. "You're so fucking horny baby you're dripping on me."

"Please Niall." she let out in a mix of a whisper and a whimper. "Let me ride you."

I stared at how fucked she looked and finally let go of her hair. Her lips pressed against mine half a second later and she started moving over me slowly at first and then harder and faster. I didn't know how long I was going to last and I breathed through my teeth before she bit my bottom lip.

"You always do that when you're really horny don't you?" I asked with a smirk, pulling my upper body back to look at her.

She sent me puppy eyes, her chin moving down as she stared at me through her eyelashes. It made me want to own her even more and be rough with her.

"I do that because I really really want you."

I let my hand run on her back and when I reached her ass, I spanked her hard enough to make her tense. Her movements faltered and she moaned low, cupping my face and kissing me deeply again.

"I'm really really close, Nee." she murmured against my mouth. "I'm about to cum all over your cock."

I already knew that. I could feel her clench hard around my dick and I pulled away slightly again to look in her eyes. There was nothing I loved more than watching her squirm over me as she came.

"Do it. Show me how good of a little slut you are." I pressed my thumb on her clit and she started moving over me again, bouncing on my cock as I rubbed her clit hard.

It took her half a minute to start shaking and I felt her nails dig in one of my shoulders. The sight of her coming undone made me reach my orgasm too and I gripped her waist harder, my fingers sinking in her skin as I spilled inside her. We both were panting messes as we came down from our highs and she leaned her forehead on my shoulder, letting out a few satisfied whimpers.

"You're mine, yeah?"

"What part of me do you want?" she asked low, running her mouth on my neck and making me smile.

"Your heart, petal." I whispered, turning my head her way, searching for her lips. "You know it,"

"Mm, you're so full of shit." she whispered with a chuckle.

I grabbed her waist and threw her on the bed as she let out a high pitched scream and I quickly moved on top of her, holding myself with my arms on each side of her head.

"I ain't lying." I pointed out, raising my eyebrows as I looked at her.

"I thought you wanted my ass." she let out, half-joking with a smile.

I stared at her for a few seconds, my smile falling slowly and breathed in before sighing.

"I already have that." I explained. "I'm just hoping you can give me your heart at some point, too."

I felt her hand reach for my face and her fingers slipped in my hair. I didn't know how long we stared at each other but after a while, her lips parted.

"My heart has been yours since I was 6 years old, Niall James Horan."

For some reason, her words made a shiver cross my back and I quivered slightly over her. I glanced at her lips and slowly, I moved down and kissed her. I didn't know what I could answer to that so I just remained silent. She moved her knees up, trapping my body between them, and I knew we both felt safe in our happy bubble. It was my favorite place : with her.

"You think everyone knows we left to go fuck?" she asked, making me chuckle.

"I mean, they think we're just friends right?"

Olivia grimaced and I laughed more at how cute it was to see her button nose move up childishly.

"No one ever really thought we were friends, I mean, even your parents made a bet."

It was my turn to grimace. "Please, don't remind me."

"I'm glad I messaged Julia. I was a bit jealous of her before I started talking to her. I mean she spends all her time with you and I know you two are close."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I didn't think she could feel threatened by Julia.

"Says the girl who literally gets rides from her ex fiance after acting as his girlfriend all day!"

"Touché." she laughed. "But there's really nothing between Dylan and I anymore."

My eyes roamed on her face and I sighed. "I love you, Liv, but we both know that's not true." i just said, making her frown slightly. "Of course you still have feelings for him. I wouldn't expect you to just forget about it after a few weeks. And he probably loves you too. And I would lie if I said it doesn't stress me from time to time, especially late at night when I'm waiting for your call."

I thought about the song I had started writing which was once again, about her. It was once again about how much I loved her, but it was also about how painful it was not to know what we were and how she felt. It was about how easily she could hurt me and that if it was the only thing she was able to give me, that I wanted it anyway. It was about how I was all hers and that I was not sure she really was mine. I didn't want to sing it to her, because I didn't want her to feel guilty about the feelings inside me, but I had to write about it, if only to evacuate the pain from my body and mind. She didn't even know how hurt I was sometimes, it didn't even cross her mind, I knew it.

She sent me a fond smile and my heart melted again. I could have moved to lie down next to her but I didn't want to. I wanted our bodies pressed together. They had been away from each other for so long and it was insane how much my skin missed her skin.

"Nothing to worry about. I always think about you."

I smiled. "Nothing to worry about when it comes to Julia either. Or any other woman. Or men. Anyone. My mind, heart and soul are with you 24/7."

"And your body?" she asked with an amused smile.

"Right now it's with you, too. So you've got all of me."

We remained silent for a while, just looking at each other. I focused on the way her body felt beneath mine, and on how well it fitted with mine, like two pieces of a puzzle, and even if I knew it was cheesy, I knew we formed a complete puzzle, me and her. The more time I spent with her, the more I had hope that we would be together again. Officially and forever.

"What are we gonna do tomorrow?" she asked in a low voice.

"Go back to Mullingar and fuck. Pretend we're not famous. Meet with old friends. Go to a pub and fuck. Go see my mom. Fuck. Get a hotel room and fuck again."

She laughed, moving her chin up and closing her eyes, and it made me smile.

"Alright, but just to make sure, are we gonna fuck?" she asked jokingly, making me smirk.

"Yes."

She laughed again and I shut her up by pressing my lips against hers. I didn't want to think about being away from her again. I didn't want this distance thing to become something normal between us. There was no way I could ever get used to being far away from her for weeks. I also knew it was meant to happen again and it made something stir in my stomach but I tried to push the thought away.

"Good plan?" I asked, my lips brushing against hers as I talked before she nodded. "Perfect, Now let's fuck again."

[inkperch]

V8E13 Thoughts- Just OUCH.

Ok, so, this one is me live tweeting my second watching, cause there is no way in FUCKING HELL Im being coherant otherwise HOLY CRAP.

Jaune’s motion sickness coming up again is fun. The evacuation plan is pretty smart tbh. Ren’s fuCKING SMILE- if I didn’t ship Renora b4 this, I’d ship it now. Also, Nora can ride her hammer like a broom now, and its so casual Im genuinely trying to remeber if Im just being dumb and she could always do that? The subway scene is f-ing hilarious, but I can’t help but feel like they were intentionally being more cartoon-y than usual cause of the shit that happens later.

Everyones wonder at the portals is just *chefs kiss*. Especially May’s ‘figured you wouldn’t let us down!’- shes awesome, strong contender in the ‘probably only here for one arc+cameos’ best girl contest. Ilia’s still winning, but May’s a strong 2nd place. Really don’t like how fast Ruby gets back to mission mode tho- girl, let yourself appreciate the pretty golden bridges ffs, you definitely don’t by the end of the episode.

And I love how the biggest problem was something they just... couldn’t predict. The sandstorm wasn’t a fault in their plan, it wasn’t a villainous scheme, it just happened.

I swear Cinder’s the animation teams favourite, her expressions are always 100% spot on. And RWBY squaring up, altogether again, is badass. 

And just- the way she’s still super shaken? But comes up with a perfect plan regardless? Wow. Like- she took exactly what needed taking from Watt’s speech, how to get Neo back on board and, as we see later, exactly what to tell Watts to get him on her side. V1-3 Cinder’s back guys, and she’s more dangerous than ever.

And Jinn’s moment of hesitation before answering Cinder is great- Jinn may be a solid True Neutral, but she still doesn’t particularly want to doom Ruby’s plan. She knew exactly what answering the question would lead to, after all.

Actually- Hey, Jinn seems to get linked to Ruby like, a lot. Obviously Ruby was the first person we saw ask her a question and, while Yang got them the lamp, Ruby was the one carrying it all the way to Atlas pretty much. And then theres the big, obvious one- when the Spirit of Knowledge admits your clever, your clever. Food for thought.

Cinder’s troubled response to seeing Emerald- seriously, animation team popped off this season. And the fucking SOUNDTRACK DISSONANCE! It sounds like something out of a ballet, and then we’re shown them casually enter a room full of people and seal the door- then cut to a room full of corpses. Without so much as a blip in the happy, airy music. Cause really what’s changed? Everything’s coming up Cinder! (also, Neo beating a survivor around the head got a guilty laugh, I’ll admit.)

The #1 Dud mug hit different.

And Robyn’s spitting facts. Marrow is the best, wasn’t sold on him, then he went and did this. Also, FUCK HARRIET. Saving her own ass so she can go doom Mantle. Didn’t even fuckin TRY to wait for Wacky Tube Man and Adult Nora. And Robyn’s face- ok, fine, I’ll shut up about the animation team. No I won’t, but I’m running out of creative ways to say they’re awesome.

Also, fuck Jaques! I was fucking CACKLING when Ironwood shot him! Just- fuckign hell, I know it shows just how far he’s fallen, willing to execute a prisoner who, even in the case of escape is harmless now, but also, it’s Jaques, the guy’s a fucking hate sink for a reason, best choice Ironwood’s made all season! I guess it’s pretty clear he’s dead now huh?

Also- Cinder keeping the attention off of Neo- like, I only noticed it here but holy crap, Cinder isn’t lying in her speech- this is great teamwork, and it’s the kind of teamwork Cinder excels at- she makes some form of spectacle that furthers her goals, then uses it as a distraction for an even bigger part of her goals- we first saw it at Beacon. Like I said, Cinder’s back~ rip any redemption arc tho, she’s just better at being worse- it’s actually a really, really good villain arc, without becoming a redemption arc and I love it.

And then, Yang’s sacrifice- ok, like the Penny one I’d had this mildly spoiled for me. Unlike the Penny one, I had 0 hope of her getting out of this intact. Because as soon as there was that black screen, I knew Yang was fucked- cause, remember what other scene we saw shot like this? Close up of Yang’s face, then she activates her semblance and throws herself forward? All because someone she loves is in danger? Yeah, I was having big V3 flashbacks at this point, so I knew Yang wasn’t gonna be ok.

Also, something I didn’t notice until rewatch, but the reason Blakes the only one fast enough to react is cause Ruby’s on the floor. Kinda neat attention to detail. First watch I just joked to myself her reaction times shit.

And Blake just missing- wow. Fucking OUCH. She’s probably having V3 thoughts too. And just generally the way this is framed- just fucking OUCH. The heartbeat sound, the black frames, the slowmow- just OUCH. Speaking of OUCH, that ‘YAAAANG!’. Like. Excellent voice acting (and animation, again, seriously wow.) And the FUCKING ECHO! Just- OUCH. That’s just a summary of this whole scene, just fucking OUCH.

Also, as we learn later, if Yang had fallen a second later, Penny would’ve been through the portal before she could react. Think about that for a second- Penny would’ve gone through the portal, guilty about leaving her friends behind to fight, only to her a heartbroken cry of ‘Yang!’ literally as she stepped through- only to realise she can’t go back.

Also, RUBY IS NOT OK. GIVE RUBY A FUCKING HUG. HER SISTER JUST DIED AND BEFORE SHE CAN PROCESS THAT, SHE HAS TO FIGHT FOR HER FUCKING LIFE AGAINST THE PERSON YANG JUST DIED TO SAVE HER FROM. Seriously, give Ruby a fucking break holy shit. That quiet ‘Yang?’ and then she is immediately back in mission mode? O U C H.  

Also, Neo is smiling in that fight, wow, holy shit- wait, theres the other V3 scene this gave me Deja Vu to, it’s the fucking Roman fight! Neo just did to Ruby what Ruby did to Neo, but flipped- she ‘ring out’ed Yang to her death, when Ruby ‘ring out’ed Neo and then ‘killed’ Torchwick. Wow, holy crap.

And, again, ANIMATION TEAM OUCH. Seriosly, why are they so good at animating sobbing? Also, cute detail with Weiss holding Blake back. Don’t know why I’m calling it cute, nothing here is cute, holy shit, this episode is ouch. And the fucking anger, it’s so well animated holy fuck. And Neo refusing to even fight Blake, cause Ruby’s her target- yeah, that’s gonna fuck both them up. I am not looking forward to the end of these fight scenes- and seriously? Was this what Yang having her back turned in the OP was foreshadowing???

Weiss vs Cinder is awesome- Weiss has been on good form when it comes to winning fights again this season. Helps that, other than the ones who can fly, she’s in the best position to fight here what with her glyphs and all.

Penny trying to draw her swords and not got a laugh out of me, I’ll admit. To be fair, I was laughing at anything and everything at that point, cause they just fuckin killed Yang. Also, Rip Penny’s feet, imagine the friction burns? Like, ignoring how shes running around barefoot rn, i m a g i n e the friction burns from getting thrown like that with no shoes. Whole different kind of ouch.

And, Ok, so, are Penny’s swords made of rocks? Because they don’t look particularly rock-y. They look like something out of TRON tbh, don’t really seem Maiden-y to me. 

Weiss protecting everyone with her sword is badass. Blake being forced to chose between protecting everyone, and murdering Neo is heartbreaking just- 

This fuckING FRAME!

Also, yeah, FUCK HARRIET. Also, Robyn ramming them had me fucking cackling so hard- just, like, Wacky arms guy almost, almost talked some sense into her (Not really, or she wouldn’t go back on it so quickly, but almost), meanwhile in the other jet, Robyn ain’t letting anyone kill her people. Especially not mid-evacuation, that’s just a dick move. FUCK HARRIET. And like... was Harriet into Clover? I’m reading that right, right? Cause like... that’s some yikesy foreshadowing on the back of YANG GETTING KILLED OFF.

But also, still, FUCK HARRIET. Qrow throwing himself through the windshield was 10/10, would fight intro again. And Arthur finished his apple before hyjacking the bomb.

And then, the Winter scene. Is Ironwood just in a Schnee- killing mood? Ironwood’s speech is... honestly, heart-breaking. He is the definition of a fallen hero. If he wasn’t blinded by paranoia and driven to rely on no-one but himself and a very select few, would he still have come believe he was the only one who anyone could trust? Because that’s, ultimately, what has brought him here- he doesn’t think he can trust anyone but himself, and so, he must be the only one who can save Atlas, right?

And Winter’s FUCKING RESPONSE- ‘I’ve never wavered in fighting the enemies of this kingdom... and I won’t start now.’ No emotion, no hesitation, no anything. Just resolve. Made even more badass by how clearly pained she is- and like, I don’t mean emotionally, that’s cool too, I mean that she’s physically in pain, but still won’t even hesitate to fight the guy who took a whole team to fight in a sneak attack last episode. And Ironwood’s response... I really can’t praise the animation team enough.

And then there’s the other side of the portal- Ren is MVP ngl, that’s a stupid amount of people he sheilded for a stupid amount of time, all on his own.

Ok, so, next week’s big fights. RWBP vs Cinder and Neo inside the bridge world, Qrow vs Harriet, with plane assists from Robyn and who the fuck knows from Wacky arms man in the atlas/mantle set for the last time probably. Winter vs Ironwood. And Oscar, Emerald and a half-dead Ren vs a massive, massive crowd of Grimm all while doing an escort mission.

...I’m not going on Youtube for a week.

[stephissalty]

you still wear my jacket

Pairing: Iwaoi

Rating: T

Warnings: Language

Words: 6000

Summary: "Iwaizumi wasn’t one to believe in fate, but he could believe that there was some very, very cruel intervention that put Oikawa Tooru on the same plane, to the same destination, in the seat next to him, three years nearly to the day since the last time he’d seen him."

AO3

Part 2 - AO3

you still wear my jacket

Iwaizumi Hajime receives a text from his supervisor ten minutes before he’s set to board a plane to London.

Received, 19:04: enjoy your trip. don’t forget to turn off your phone

Received, 19:04: you need the time off

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and sends an affirmative response before tucking his phone back in his pocket. He knew he was very much in need of a break. For the past three months, he had been working twelve-plus hour days, and his team had been working nearly as many. The project his supervisor had assigned to Iwaizumi’s group was interesting, at least: the coding division was to design and perfect a code to a new kind of robot, to be used in conjunction with other existing technology that the company was working on, and compatible with several different kinds of software. Iwaizumi enjoyed his job as a team leader - he’d been offered the position after holding an internship with a sister company while in university - but these past few weeks had been wearing him down, and he was ready to collapse.

His supervisor had suggested that he take a week off and get out of Japan - visit somewhere far away, somewhere he’d never been before for a change of scenery. And he was doing just that.

But even so, he still feels the weight of his laptop in his backpack, and his work phone in one of his pockets buzzes with another text. After this text, I’ll turn it off.

Received, 19:07: Iwaizumi-san, enjoy your trip

The text is from one of his interns, a university student named Kunimi. Even my interns are telling me to enjoy my trip. Have I been overworking that much?

He doesn’t turn off his phone.

He turns his boarding pass over in his hands, fidgeting slightly with the edges of the slick paper. For the millionth time, he reads over his boarding group, which reads BSNS CLASS, and then verifies it is his name at the top of the pass. Indeed, IWAIZUMI HAJIME is printed at the top of the paper along with all of the other flight details. He’s still in awe that he has the privilege to fly Business Class, something that is because of his hearty bonus that came in a few weeks ago. This whole trip was a treat to himself, but the tickets were a splurge.

“We are now welcoming Business Class. Business Class, welcome aboard.”

Iwaizumi makes his way towards the line forming, stepping behind well-dressed men in suits carrying briefcases and women carrying designer purses. At twenty-five years old and dressed in sweats and an old Aoba Johsai jacket, he feels slightly out of place. He puts his discomfort aside as he approaches the desk, where the attendant scans his ticket, and he enters the boarding bridge.

A few minutes later, he’s settled into his seat, 2B. The window seat to his left is still empty as he fishes his headphones and charging cord out of his backpack before stowing it away in the overhead.

It’s several minutes later, and as Iwaizumi is starting to be hopeful that he may have the row to himself that he feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Sorry, can I get -” as Iwaizumi looks up, the person speaking abruptly cuts off in surprise. “Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi blinks a few times, trying to register the sight in front of him. Standing in the aisle in front of him is none other than Oikawa Tooru. He’s older than the last time he saw him, but he’s definitely Oikawa. His immaculate hair is slightly longer than it was last time, and he looks a little taller, but that might be Iwaizumi’s angle. He’s dressed in a dark shirt under a white jacket with aqua trim and dark sweatpants, and to finish off the ensemble is a head donut around his neck.

“Oikawa.”

“Uh -” For one of the first times that Iwaizumi can recall, Oikawa seems to be out of words. “Looks like I’m sitting next to you. If you want, I can try to request a seat change or -”

“It’s fine. You’re holding up the line. Get in,” Iwaizumi grunts and grits his teeth.

“Right, right.”

Iwaizumi draws up his knees to allow Oikawa to pass, trying not to flinch at the moment of contact.

They sit in silence for a while as the rest of the plane boards, allowing Iwaizumi the distraction to put in his headphones and turn on music, loud enough to try to forget that Oikawa Tooru is sitting next to him. He subtly scoots towards the aisle and pulls his left elbow towards his body, vehemently ignoring the heat emitting from the body next to him.

What are the chances?

Iwaizumi wasn’t one to believe in fate, but he could believe that there was some very, very cruel intervention that put Oikawa Tooru on the same plane, to the same destination, in the seat next to him, three years nearly to the day since the last time he’d seen him.

Three years is a long time.

“Welcome aboard flight 0104, service to London Heathrow. I’m Sawamura, and I’m joined by Azumane, and we’ll be your flight crew for today’s flight. If you’ll direct your attention to your seat-back screens for the safety presentation please…”

The plane pushes back from the gate and begins taxiing towards the runway. Begin a flight from hell.

“Iwa-chan?”

He whips his head to Oikawa and removes one earbud. “Don’t call me that.”

“Iwaizumi...san.” Oikawa has a strange look on his face, as if the name tastes strange in his mouth, which he supposes it probably does.

“What?”

“Is it time now?” The question is vague, but the meaning is clear as day.

“We have been cleared for takeoff. Secure your seatbacks and tray tables in their upright and locked positions. Flight attendants, prepare the cabin for takeoff.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond, just puts his earbud back in and raises the volume even higher, to a nearly painful level.

The engines ready for takeoff, Iwaizumi looks to the window as the plane accelerates. He can see, even though the other is faced away from him, the sparkle in Oikawa’s eyes, even before leaving the ground. Once the wheels leave the ground, the city starts shrinking to a grid of yellow lights and soft neons and moving headlights. From Iwaizumi’s vantage point, he doesn’t have the best view, but Oikawa does, and Oikawa, although he’s definitely been on planes countless times, seems captivated by the city getting smaller and the sky getting more vast, getting closer to the soft clouds.

Oikawa’s always loved planes.

Iwaizumi knows that better than anyone. Oikawa’s the reason why Iwaizumi loves flying.

Once they reach ten thousand feet, Iwaizumi immediately connects his work phone to the wifi to check his messages, and, sure enough, in the Oikawa commotion, he’d forgotten to check it before takeoff. He had several messages from another one of his hard-working interns, Kindaichi.

Received 19:15: I got section 44 to compile!

Received 19:15: Yahaba-san will look over it tomorrow

Received 19:15: I’m going to start on 45

Received 19:16: You shouldn’t be doing work on vacation tho

Received 19:16: Have fun, Iwaizumi-san!

Not for the first time, he is exceedingly grateful for his dedicated interns, working even at seven in the evening.

Delivered 19:55: Thank you for your hard work.

Delivered 19:55: Don’t work too late.

He receives an immediate response.

Received 19:55: The same for you!

Delivered 19:56: Thank you.

Although everyone has told him to turn off his phone, he can’t bring himself to. He can’t bear the thought that one of his subordinates could need his help during the time that he’s in the air - after all, it’s a thirteen hour flight. A voice tries to reason that they shouldn’t be working at this time anyways, but it ultimately loses.

“As hardworking as ever,” Oikawa says, somehow catching a quiet moment in one of Iwaizumi’s songs, so his voice cuts through. Iwaizumi thinks he hears a twinge of anger in the word ‘hardworking’. He doesn’t want to think about why.

He returns his attention to his seatmate and wrenches out one earbud. “Huh?”

“You were just messaging work, no? Always a hardworker, Iwa-chan.”

“Were you reading over my shoulder?” Iwaizumi asks incredulously, ignoring the second half of what Oikawa said. He’s trying to rile Iwaizumi up, and he knows it.

“It’s not my fault if you have your brightness so high and your font so big that someone in space could read your texts.” Oikawa flashes a shit-eating, dazzling grin.

Don’t fall for it don’t fall for it don’t fall for it. “I swear -”

“Are you still at the tech company? Code monkey?”

Iwaizumi tries to rein in his temper. “I’m a team leader for the coding division, and, yes, I’m still with the same company. How about you, space boy?”

“I’m a project leader for a classified project at an aerospace firm in Tokyo,” Oikawa says, nose in the air.

Iwaizumi nods, ready to go back to his music, but clearly Oikawa has other plans.

“Iwa-chan! Tell me about your life.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Please.”

His eyes are pleading, and Iwaizumi almost breaks there. But then he remembers.

“No. Now, I’m going to take a nap. Is that okay with you, Oikawa?” he snaps. He actually isn’t tired at all and has trouble sleeping on planes, but dealing with Oikawa is too much for him today. He doesn’t wait until he gets an answer before turning away from Oikawa and burrowing slightly into the collar of his volleyball jacket that he still wears after all these years.

He doesn’t realize that Oikawa is also wearing his Aoba Johsai jacket.

Iwaizumi wasn’t sure when Oikawa really changed, but he thought it might’ve been when he missed the final ball in the last match against Karasuno in their third year of high school. After that game, he was never quite the same. There wasn’t another high school tournament to prepare for, and they were done playing for Seijoh. It marked the end of an era, in a way, and Iwaizumi figured Oikawa didn’t know how to handle it.

The end of third year was rough because of that. They still attended classes leading up to graduation, toured a few universities, applied to universities, got accepted to universities, dropped in on a few practices, but all of that was tinged with a grey cloud of sadness that both of them could feel.

Iwaizumi felt it all bubble up when they had to individually choose where they would be going to university.

One Friday night, they were sitting on Iwaizumi’s bedroom floor, two laptops open, and countless pamphlets and acceptance letters surrounding them as they each tried to decide where they’d attend for the coming year. Oikawa had been alarmingly quiet through the whole time Iwaizumi had been listing pros and cons of his personal top choices - two different schools in Tokyo and one closer to Sendai.

“What’s up?”

Oikawa kept his head down.

“Oikawa.”

He shook his head silently.

“Is the university talk upsetting you?”

He shrugged, still not looking up. His hair was flopped down, so his face was hidden from Iwaizumi’s view.

“You gotta talk to me.”

Oikawa very, very slowly raised his hand and gripped Iwaizumi’s wrist, pulling it toward himself. He still didn’t speak.

Iwaizumi thought he understood, though. “You don’t want to separate.”

Oikawa shook his head violently and hugged Iwaizumi tightly. He felt a wet patch forming on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his friend.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, but it sounded like an empty promise to his own ears.

They sat there for a long time, Oikawa crying in Iwaizumi’s arms, as Iwaizumi tucked his face in Oikawa’s neck and tried not to cry as well.

I don’t want to leave him, either.

But I might have to.

The night of graduation, the two lay in silence on Iwaizumi’s bedroom floor. They’d already been to dinner with their families, already did photos, already took care of their prior commitments, They were free to just spend the evening together.

Oikawa had his head on Iwaizumi’s stomach, and their hands were intertwined over Iwaizumi’s chest. Even for them, it was very intimate, but they didn’t address it. The somber mood in the room was overbearing.

“Iwa-chan?”

“Hmm?”

“Everything’s gonna change now, isn’t it?”

They’d decided to go to different universities in the same city. They were getting an apartment together. Even though they’d be on different volleyball teams, they’d still be together. That managed to nullify both of their fears of being apart.

“Things are going to change, but what’s never going to change is that you’re my best friend,” Iwaizumi replied quietly. He ordinarily wasn’t the type to say sentimental things out loud, but tonight was different.

Oikawa pulled their conjoined hands onto his own chest and squeezed tight. He shifted his head to look towards Iwaizumi. “Is that a promise?”

Iwaizumi looked down and met his gaze, eyes soft. “Of course.”

“Even if I say something stupid?”

“Always.”

Oikawa turned his gaze away, refocusing on the ceiling fan as he ran his thumb over the back of Iwaizumi’s hand. He exhaled, seemingly thinking through his next words very thoroughly, as if he were scared.

“You couldn’t say anything that would make me not want to be your best friend.”

“Even…” Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. “Even if I were to say I’m in love with you?” The end of the sentence sounded choked, and the squeezing of Iwaizumi’s hand was almost painful - he could physically feel Oikawa’s anxiety.

Iwaizumi used his free hand to run through Oikawa’s hair softly. A giddy smile played at his own lips, and his heartbeat sped up. “Yeah, even then. I love you, too.”

Iwaizumi isn’t sure how long it’s been when he wakes up.

Just in front of him, serving the first row, he sees the flight with carts for the first in-flight meal. Considering this, he assumes he’s been out for an hour or so.

He risks a glance at Oikawa, who he finds looking back at him.

Iwaizumi doesn’t want to - can’t - decipher what the emotion in his eyes is.

“What’s for dinner for you guys? We’ve got vegetarian lasagna and a chicken wrap,” the attendant who’d introduced himself as Sawamura asks.

“Lasagna,” they say in unison. Iwaizumi stiffens, but doesn’t look at Oikawa.

“Great, great,” Sawamura replies, as he grabs the meals and hands them out. “Azumane will be by in a minute for drinks.”

Indeed, Azumane was taking the first row’s drink order. Neither speaks until Azumane has handed them their drinks - Sprite for Oikawa, Coke for Iwaizumi.

“Don’t talk.”

“Iwa-chan -”

The tension snaps. Iwaizumi growls, “I just want to eat my dinner. I can’t deal with you, I can’t deal with this right now, I really can’t. Stop.”

Oikawa swallows slowly and averts his eyes. He draws his left leg up to his chest, careful not to knock the tray table, and hugs it as he peels back the foil on his meal. “I’m sorry, Iwa-chan.”

He sounds defeated.

Iwaizumi can’t take it. He puts headphones back in.

The first year of university passed fairly uneventfully. There were so many changes, of course, but there were no disasters of epic proportions that Iwaizumi and Oikawa couldn’t work through alright.

They quickly fell into a routine. Iwaizumi would get back to the apartment first because his university was slightly closer, and his classes ended a little earlier. He’d start on his homework, and Oikawa would arrive sometime not long after that. After finishing both of their homework - Iwaizumi was a very good influence to get Oikawa to stop procrastinating - they’d figure something for dinner - usually Iwaizumi cooking. And after dinner they’d settle down in the living room for a few hours.

They spent a lot of nights on the couch in their apartment, a tangled mess of limbs, Oikawa’s head on Iwaizumi’s chest. Usually they’d watch a TV show or movie as Iwaizumi carded one hand through Oikawa’s hair and clasped their hands together over Oikawa’s chest with the other. He spent a lot of nights just playing with Oikawa’s hands, gently kissing his fingertips, appreciating all of the callouses.

Save for a few small domestic spats that were bound to happen to any new roommates or romantic partners, first year passed without a hitch.

Their first anniversary fell on a Saturday, so they had the whole day together. The day as a whole was phenomenal: lazy morning sex, pancake breakfast, sleepy movie afternoon, and fancy dinner.  After dinner, though, Oikawa already had Iwaizumi pushed up against the outside of their door before he’d even unlocked it. He pressed their lips together hotly, like they had so many times before.

Iwaizumi smiled into the kiss but ducked away from Oikawa’s mouth. “Not yet. We’ll get there, though,” he promised and pressed a quick kiss to Oikawa’s jaw to satiate his partner for the time being. They pushed into the apartment, but Iwaizumi didn’t look at Oikawa, instead heading straight for his own bedroom, which had barely been used since they’d moved in - Iwaizumi slept in Oikawa’s room almost every night.

Iwaizumi first unzipped his school bag, fishing around in one of the pockets to find a permanent marker. Then, he opened his closet, sifting through clothes until he found his Aoba Johsai jacket. Still not speaking, he entered the living room, still holding the jacket and marker, grabbed Oikawa’s sleeve, and pulled him into Oikawa’s bedroom. He then found Oikawa’s own Aoba Johsai jacket, ignoring his boyfriend’s questions as to what the hell, Iwa-chan?

Iwaizumi laid both jackets side by side on the bed. “Sit.” Oikawa did, still thoroughly confused. “So, I’ve had this idea for a while, and I thought now would be a good time.” He blushed slightly as he doubted his idea. “I want us to trade jackets.” Oikawa looked confused. “Well - we both still wear them fairly often, and I was thinking that even though they look the same, we’ll always know they’re the others’? Something like that? It’s kinda a stupid idea, I know -”

“I love it.” Oikawa jumped up and cradled Iwaizumi’s face. He was beaming. Oikawa kissed him gently, tenderly, slowly, in the way that he knew Iwaizumi loved most. He pulled back. “What was it you were wanting to do with the marker?”

Iwaizumi still had the marker in his hand where it was holding Oikawa’s face. Nimbly twirling it in his fingers, he replied, “I was thinking we could, uh, write our names in them before trading?” He took his own jacket and folded back the end of the left sleeve, revealing the inside of the cuff, which was thick enough material to not let the marker bleed. “Is that okay?”

Oikawa, who still had the biggest grin on his face, wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s abdomen and kissed his neck. “Of course. You’re such a sap, Iwa-chan. I love this, almost as much as I love you.”

He craned his neck to chastely press their lips together again. “I love you, too.” Iwaizumi turned back to the jacket, and he carefully wrote out HAJIME #4 on one side of the seam, the side that would be closer to the body, and STRONGER with a small heart on the other side. He flipped the cuff right and passed the marker to Oikawa, who wrote TOORU #1 and INVINCIBLE, also with a small heart on his.

“Now, Tooru, let’s pick up where we left off,” Iwaizumi said after they’d cleared the bed, a playful glint in his eyes.

Oikawa didn’t need to be told twice before he was backing Iwaizumi up onto the bed.

Iwaizumi runs his right thumb over the inside of his left sleeve cuff. TOORU #1, INVINCIBLE. He still wears the jacket because he still loves volleyball, still loves the time he had at Aoba Johsai. He remembers all of the time they had together there. The thought makes his throat clog up and weakens his heart. He swallows thickly.

He never thought he’d have to worry about running into Oikawa, especially not while he was still wearing the jacket.

To make matters worse, Oikawa’s wearing his jacket, too.

Nothing’s changed after all these years.

“Iwa-chan, why are you going to London?” He sounds scared.

Weakened by nostalgia, he replies softly, “Vacation.” Pause. “You?”

Oikawa seems taken aback by the question. “Work trip, but I’m going a few days early for a quick vacation.”

“You still wear it.” He nods in the vague direction of Oikawa’s jacket, noticing that he wears the left cuff rolled, exposing the writing from all those years ago. HAJIME #4, STRONGER. He hopes bringing this up isn’t a mistake, but a growing feeling in his gut says it definitely is.

“You do, too.”

Their eyes meet for only the third time in the entire flight. Iwaizumi briefly notes that there are still over eight hours remaining on this flight, so getting into a dangerous conversation isn’t in his best interest. Fuck it.

“Of course I do,” he says, as if it’s obvious.

“Most people would get rid of their old partner’s clothes after a breakup,” Oikawa responds. Dangerous.

“Most people do, yeah.” Iwaizumi tries his damndest to keep his voice neutral, to not let his emotions show. Thinking about high school makes you weak. Now look at what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“And you…?”

Iwaizumi averts his eyes. Can’t let you go, but it’s been three years and our relationship fell apart because of me. He can’t say that so he opts for, “Apparently neither of us are most.”

Silence.

“I miss you.” Oikawa sounds scared.

“It didn’t work.” Iwaizumi is blunt.

Oikawa moves slowly, so, so slowly, as he guides Iwaizumi’s chin back to look at him with one finger. Against his better judgement, Iwaizumi allows it. Oikawa’s eyes are watery. “It’s been three years, Hajime. Can we talk about it?”

“It was my fault and you know it. There’s nothing else to talk about,” he says cooly.

“No -”

“Then let’s talk.”

During their third year of university, Oikawa proposed. It was perfect for them. Once every season, their universities played each other, and after that game - Iwaizumi’s team had won, but Oikawa was too nervous to be upset about the loss - he’d stopped Iwaizumi before he could go to get changed out of his uniform. He’d enlisted help from some of his university teammates (shoutout to Kuroo), and got down on one knee right in front of the scoreboard. That part actually wasn’t planned, but the pictures came out amazingly. Iwaizumi said yes, of course.

From there, they moved on with their lives and into their final year of university.

Iwaizumi picked up an internship, which he threw himself into headfirst, and Oikawa started spending even more time in the gym in hopes to get scouted for the national team. There had been eyes on him for the last two years, so this season would be his last chance to prove he was worthy of national play.

They saw each other less and less, but still came home to bed every night, even if it was late.

One week, Iwaizumi snuck into bed at just past midnight, having just gotten in from his internship. Oikawa was just barely still awake as Iwaizumi wrapped an arm around his middle and pulled him close.

“You’re home late again,” Oikawa whispered. It was the third night that week.

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi responded, punctuating the response with a light kiss to Oikawa’s nape. “I’ll try to be home by dinner tomorrow.” Oikawa hummed. “How was practice?”

“Good. I miss playing with you, though,” he said longingly.

“Let’s go to the gym this weekend.”

Oikawa flipped around, bringing them face to face. “Really?” His eyes were shining.

“Really.”

Oikawa surged forward and kissed him deeply, pushing Iwaizumi onto his back and straddling him. Iwaizumi kissed back with just as much fervor - god, he’d missed this with how much he’d been working. “God, I love you,” Iwaizumi mumbled against his lips.

“I love you too,” Oikawa responded, and Iwaizumi’s chest flooded with fondness, just like the first time.

Received, 21:45: hey iwaizumi-san. i’ll be out for the rest of the week

Received, 21:46: i’ll make sure all of my work is finished when i return

Delivered, 21:48: Okay. Is everything alright?

Received, 21:49: yea i had a family emergency come up

Delivered, 21:50: Alright. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.

Received, 21:50: thanks

“Is that work again?” Oikawa asked tentatively. It was a Friday night, and they were laying together on the couch watching one of Oikawa’s favorite movies. It was supposed to be a night for just the two of them since Iwaizumi had been working late every night that week.

“Yeah, sorry,” Iwaizumi apologized and kissed his head. He wrapped his arm tighter around his fiance.

Oikawa found the hand that was still holding his phone and pried it out of his grip. “This is mine now. You said tonight was for us,” he pouted. He was being over-dramatic in a way that was slightly childish in a joking manner, but Iwaizumi could tell he was actually upset. He’d been neglecting Oikawa for the past few months, and it was catching up. “Please, Iwa-chan.” His eyes were pleading Iwaizumi to pay attention, so he consented. Oikawa untangled their limbs and walked to their room, Iwaizumi’s phone in hand. When he returned and sat down a moment later, he said, “You can have it back tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi conceded. “I’ll do better.”

Oikawa kissed the back of their conjoined hands. “I believe you.”

It didn’t get better.

It got worse.

“Okay, so we’re leaving tomorrow night to go home, and we’ll stay at my parent’s house. We’re taking the five-fifteen train, and we should be there around nine.” Oikawa was rattling off details about their trip home to see their parents over winter break. The plan was to stay home for a few days and then return to their apartment and spend Christmas Eve and Day together.

Received, 15:04: We need you in the office

Received, 15:04: There’s an issue with one of the processes and the other team leaders are already on holiday

“Tooru?”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to need to take a later train. They’re calling me into work.” Iwaizumi looked away in shame.

“But Iwa-chan! We’ve had this trip planned for months!”

“I -”

Oikawa got in close to Iwaizumi’s face. His time at work had been getting worse and worse, and he knew that Oikawa was going to reach a breaking point. “Tell them no.”

He swallowed. He was nervous - what if he got fired?

But - he had an angry Oikawa, and that could end up far, far worse for him.

Delivered, 15:14: I can’t. Tooru and I are leaving for Sendai tonight. Sorry.

Received, 15:15: It’s important.

Delivered, 15:18: I cannot come in. This trip is important to my fiance.

Delivered, 15:18: Sorry.

Received, 15:19: Noted.

That was an awfully ominous response coming from someone at a career level above him, but Iwaizumi hoped it was worth it. Keeping Tooru happy is always worth it.

To: Iwaizumi Hajime

From: Management Team

Subject: Work Dedication Issues

Iwaizumi,

It has come to our attention that you expressed an issue dedicating yourself to your position on an occurrence on 14 December 2020. We are aware that you were recently promoted from intern to team leader, so if the new job requirements were not properly communicated, please let us know so we can direct you to the documentation of your job description. In short, as a team leader, you are required to be dedicated to your work and must be reliable to be called upon. If that is not possible, please let us know so we can begin training a replacement .

Best,

Management Team

Iwaizumi felt sick as he read over the email again. And again.

“Tooru?”

“Hm?” Oikawa hummed as he walked into the living room, where Iwaizumi was sitting on the couch, legs pulled to his chest.

Iwaizumi handed him his phone, open to the email. He watched as Oikawa’s eyes scanned the email, watched as his features set into a hard glare. Oikawa thrusted the phone back at him.

“Are you blaming this on me?” Oikawa demanded.

“I should have gone in that evening. They’re threatening my job.”

Oikawa’s eyes turned from cold to fiery. “And you’re threatening me. I didn’t do anything wrong by asking my fiance to pay attention to me for once and to follow through on plans we’d had for months. ”

“But, Tooru -”

“Hajime. I’ve put up with this for so long.” Oikawa’s face softens. “I know you’re dedicated to your job. But you’ve been forgetting about me. And that’s okay for a while. But not for eight months. I’m tired of it. Please, Hajime, don’t make me make you choose,” he begged, tears in his eyes.

Not for the first time, Iwaizumi saw the toll his neglect was taking on his partner. He felt like he took a sucker punch to the gut. “It hasn’t been ei -”

“It has. I’ve been waiting and waiting for it to get better. I thought it would get better in the summer, and then in the fall, and then at Christmas, but it didn’t.” He shook his head as if trying to clear the tears bubbling up. “I miss you, Iwa-chan. I can take a lot, but I can’t take this much. I need you back. So....” Deep breath. Iwaizumi tensed. He knew what was coming. “It’s either me or the job.”

“Tooru, I can’t just quit my job!” Iwaizumi protested.

Oikawa’s face crumpled. “Then I’ll send Kuroo to get some of my things in the morning.”

Iwaizumi stood and wrapped his arms around Oikawa, who weakly pushed against them. “No, no. I can’t - I can’t - lose you.”

Oikawa pushed away with force. “Oh, baby, you lost me months ago,” he said bitterly. Tears ran down his face as they stood in silence, three feet separating them, as his words sunk in.

Then, he turned and walked to the bedroom. He threw one change of clothes into his school bag along with his laptop and some chargers and toiletries.

Iwaizumi was still in the living room, frozen. “Tooru, don’t -”

Oikawa pressed a kiss to his cheek. He tasted salt. “I love you, Iwa-chan.” And then he left.

Iwaizumi cried.

“You didn’t come back,” Iwaizumi says. He picks at one of the threads on his t-shirt.

“I said I wouldn’t.” Pause. “It took you three weeks to message me.”

Guilt eats at his stomach. “I didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse.” Iwaizumi debates on how honest he wants to be. If he wants to open this whole box of worms, if he actually wants to try to make the relationship work or to repair a friendship with Oikawa, or if he wants to just give the bare minimum of information. “There was too much I needed to say, so I was waiting for you to come to me. Kuroo said you’d probably come around.”

“I didn’t.”

“No, you didn’t. Why?”

“Hajime… You hurt me. A lot. Eight months is a long time. Basically from the time you got that promotion until I left, I hardly saw you. And I just progressively got worse. You kept promising you’d get better, but then the next week I’d see you even less.” Deep breath. “I missed you so much. I missed the man who I proposed to, I missed the boy who I confessed to, I missed the boy who I spent all of our school years setting to, I missed my best friend, I missed my boyfriend, I missed my fiance, I missed my partner. I lost all of those, because you weren’t ever there when I needed you. Did you know that I actually got a job offer in Sendai? I debated taking it, but I wanted to wait and see if I could talk some sense into you. I never got scouted for the national team, so I applied for a few overseas teams. I made new friends. And a whole bunch of other things. All of this happened when we were still together, Hajime. I’m willing to bet you didn’t know any of it because of how preoccupied you were with your job. And it’s great that you had and still have such a good job, but…”

“I’m sorry, Tooru.” His fingers clutch at a chain tucked into his shirt that suddenly feels very heavy. Hoping it’s not the wrong choice but mostly moving on impulse anyways, he pulls out the chain, showing Oikawa what’s hanging on it.

He gasps. “You.... You still wear it?”

“Of course.” He bites the inside of his lip. “You never officially called off the wedding.” The engagement ring Oikawa had bought slides along the chain, glinting in the low cabin light. “Tooru… You deserve better than how I can treat you.”

“No.” Iwaizumi snaps his head up to meet Oikawa’s shining eyes. “You treat me like a goddamn king. You just didn’t prioritize us. And that was a problem.”

“I still can’t prioritize. I’ve been talking to work this whole flight,” Iwaizumi mumbles. As if on cue, his phone buzzes immediately, but he ignores it. “But…”

Oikawa sighs. “I don’t think I made a mistake by leaving.” Iwaizumi’s heart plummets. “But I made a mistake by not coming back.” Inhale. Exhale. “But I’m here now. So… Iwa-chan, will you take me back?”

Their eyes meet again. Iwaizumi searches the deep, brown eyes for any sign of a joke. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You’re with the sister company now, yeah?” Nod. “Maybe you can talk to your supervisor about getting some more set hours and less on-call hours? I… I don’t want to live without you any longer. I want to at least try to make it work, Iwa-chan.”

“My supervisor is the one who sent me on vacation,” Iwaizumi chuckles. “We can try. Slowly.” He takes Oikawa’s hands in his own carefully, loose enough that the other can take them out of his grip, and draws the hands to his mouth. He presses a gentle kiss to each hand.

“A true gentleman,” Oikawa laughs. Everything is so, so soft as he cradles Iwaizumi’s face with one of his hands and kisses him. For the first time in nearly three years, Iwaizumi’s heart feels like it might be okay.

Once he pulls away, Oikawa takes the left sleeve of Iwaizumi’s jacket and cuffs the sleeve the same way he has his own, exposing TOORU #1, INVINCIBLE. Then, he laces their fingers together.

“Now, I’m going to sleep,” he announces.

Since he has no objections and is getting tired again himself, Iwaizumi leans over and rests his head on Oikawa’s shoulder, the other resting his head on top of Iwaizumi’s. It feels right.

Hours later, when he reads the message he’d received, it is from his supervisor.

Received, 23:55: If this message sends and your phone is still on while you’re on vacation, I’m disconnecting your company phone

Received, 23:55: Take time for yourself

Received, 23:56: If you connected to plane wifi just to receive work messages, so help me Iwaizumi, I don’t know what to do with you

Oikawa and his supervisor get along very well when they meet a month later.

[charlotteu]

⟨ SON CHAEYOUNG. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, CHARLOTTE TAM is actually a descendent of H E P H A E S T U S it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY TWO year old CIVIL ENGINEERING/BUSINESS MAJOR from SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite PRECISE & TENSE.

heyheyhey girls gays & they’s. my og’s remember charlotte and how deeply i love her also the looming promise that i’d bring her back. and here are we so ✌️ if any of you don’t know, i’m dakota, i’m nineteen (19), i live in cst, and i’m a part time barista along with a full time political science major. i’ll have some vague wanted connections at the bottom of this but my dm’s are always open both on here and on discord @ wet ass politics#6969

trigger warnings: death

full name & nicknames :

charlotte chunhwa tam / lottie & lola

major :

civil engineering & business

sexuality :

lesbian

gender idenitity / pronouns :

cis - female / she/her

age / birthday :

twenty - three, december tenth, nineteen - ninety - eight

zodiac :

sagittarius

personality :

charlotte is known to find literal scraps of anything and manage to make something gorgeous from it - whether it’s food, metal scraps, or a nearly - ruined picnic table - it’s a skill that she takes great pride in. she constantly tries to bring her loved ones together in one form or another, which results in quite a lot of last - minute plans and “family dinners.” because of these two traits, if someone just happened to forget to plan a birthday party or a baby shower and needed it thrown together within a day or two (maybe that is on her bucket list, maybe not,) charlotte is your perfect person. regardless of this, charlotte is still considered that friend that never has their life together and has an extensional crises every few weeks. family wise, their relationship with their siblings is something that they take very seriously. even the ones that give her stress acne are still very much able to feel the affection and love she’s has for her family. she constantly checks in on all of her siblings and regularly makes an effort to be as involved in their lives as possible.

when it comes to school work, charlotte is perfectly organized. a well - planned and well - filled out academic calendar is always in her backpack and she has a few dozen notifications on both her phone and her laptop to remind her of class assignments. she is well - known at the tutoring center for her near constant sessions to ensure to that she is totally, a hundred percent getting the assignment. her math classes is where she thrives, and she has a record of taking several math classes during the summertime to further her knowledge. charlotte’s known for the immense pride that she takes in her work along with the very long academia career that they wish to have.

myers - briggs, vice, & virtue :

entp, temperance, & distrusting

hobbies :

welding, drawing, sculpting/general crafting, trivia games, meditation, going into nature & finding animals, 

powers :

sensing faults in metal ores, technokenesis, and pyrokinesis. charlotte considers her technokenesis powers to be the stronger of her abilities now that she’s taken the time to work on it since her break. she uses it to help both students and professors on campus deal with their I.T issues and to make small devices to help her friends in their way to help with their daily life. she plans to use her sensing abilities to help with her career choice later on in life, so she continues to work on improving them to help later on. with honesty, she doesn’t use pyrokinesis beyond helping her forge things or as a cute party trick. they have very few plans to ever venture beyond the walls of a protected area ever again so her ability to control whatever flames she makes under pressure is virtually nonexistent.

backstory :

         tam chaewon, aged thirty, had just finished her blacksmith apprenticeship abroad in the netherlands when she decides to go to a bar to celebrate with some friends before trying to find a job when she’s approached by a man claiming to overhear her accomplishment. eager to talk about her future, the two of them end up talking for three hours about it along with the various paths open for her to take. maybe it’s the willingness to sit and listen to her or maybe it’s the legitimacy in his interest that drew her in, but the two ended up spending the night together; they spend only two days together before he leaves with an address for chaewon to write to him if it’s needed. and she does, approximately two months later when she learns she’s pregnant with a baby girl. he writes back nothing but an apology, money to help with the expenses, along with a separate letter to give to the child when she turned ten. 

(trigger warning in the paragraph: death specifically during child birth.)         fast forward through a tornado of eight months and chaewon is visiting her parents when charlotte was born prematurely in seoul, south korea in chaewon’s childhood bathroom. there’s a complication with both chaewon and charlotte shortly the birth and the paramedics sped through the streets to pick up the two, doing their best to keep the two of them alive during the ride. the woman’s family races behind them in the family car, barely able to find the room the two are in to see the nurses rush ahead of them. (no one can tell charlotte what the complication is, but her mom stays alive for an gruesome day and a half, straddling the border between life and death. she’s declared dead on december eleventh at 12:18 pm, 1998.) legend has it that silence ran through the waiting room that the family was in, an unearthly wail leaving charlotte’s grandmother as she realizes what she had to pay to receive her granddaughter. no one wants to touch the child, let alone raise her. their family is faced with a choice when they’re handed the death certificate of their daughter, the birth certificate of their granddaughter, and their granddaughter herself.

           her uncle is the one that ends up taking her in that day. the oldest sibling to her mother by six years, he had been an entrepreneur bachelor his entire life up until that point. so it’s whiplash, to say the least, to completely upheave his life in seoul and move to the small town of parga, greece to raise charlotte. the transition period between being a bachelor to a single father is hard, but he does his best to not give up on it. along side the lack of support from his family, it makes it all such a draining process. when she turns six, her uncle hires the first person to help the family: a highly recommended local nanny by the name of phoebe who would stay with the tam family until charlotte turned eighteen. it’s around this time that her uncle begins to drift away more, trying to keep his business on track, but he always comes back with an elaborate apology and an equally elaborate gift for charlotte to make up for the digression. 

          when she turns twelve, she starts to develop ... slightly unusual powers that always came as a shock but were immediately chalked up to scarily accurate guesses. it’s a fun party trick she uses at classroom gatherings, guessing where faults where in desks, trying to figure out what was wrong with technology, etc. and it didn’t go much beyond that for a very long time. it’s a rainy summer day when her uncle sits her down with a strange man who explains to the both of them that she’s a ... demigod. it takes a whole afternoon to convince charlotte of this fact while her uncle looks at her like a monster. she promptly declines any move to go to a camp (much to her uncle’s dismay) and the next six years of her life is promptly laid out. a life lived in a private plane, tucked away from the world to live out of a few suitcases and bought time from others.

          this quiet life sealed away from the outside world leaves her doing whatever she can to keep busy. building whatever she can, trying to stay as occupied as much as she can. it results in a suitcase full of little trinkets by the time she’s six months into home schooling. the next few years of her life pass her by in a terrible haze as she does everything she can to catch up to the life that has been set out for her. her life begins to slow down when she gets into college at the age of nineteen, where she finally finds a safe haven amongst people like her. however, at the beginning of 2020, charlotte finds herself catching deep feelings for one EILILDH GALBRAITH. a fiery, vibrant, and resistant spirit immediately draws charlotte into deep feelings for her. the relationship happens for several months before the relationship comes to an abrupt halt in the end of october. unable to come to terms with her first major breakup, charlotte cites a personal, family matter to switch to online classes before coming back to in person at the end of finals shortly before the evacuation. 

wanted connections :

DREAMLAND / a v simple plot with room for extreme nuance! someone that charlotte can help bounce ideas off of and vise versa. enable each other’s terrible ideas but do it with much love and a camera on hand at all times. ( 0/2 spots taken )

HIT DIFFERENT / some type of fun flirtatious relationship. maybe they’re just friends, maybe they’re party buddies (for the rare parties that she goes to,) or maybe they just happen to keep meeting. hopefully it’s very relaxed on both ends. ( 0/1 spots taken, must be afab )

ALWAYS GOLDEN / best friends, ride or die type shit. can we get some friend group for it tho because i always love a good group dynamic ( 0/5 spots taken )

I DIDN’T FALL / some kind of missed love, like those missed connections on craiglist. maybe the two of them grew close during charlotte’s time away from university or maybe they almost dated before charlotte was out, either way there’s still some mixed feelings of resentment for not making a move, the deathly “what if’s?”, and mayhaps some feelings that still linger. ( 0/1 spots taken, must be afab )

SPORTS / someone who helped navigate charlotte through her own experience of coming out and how that fits into her cultural identity along and her career field. i have a decent idea of her coming out process but i’m definitely flexible with it ( 0/1 spots taken )

[katjacksonbooks]

Ummm, I started this romance last year at some point and then put it away, as I often do. But now that the world feels super bleak (super SUPER bleak? what’s the scale for everything sucks and I hate it all?) I’ve decided to add this story to my list of things I want to finish soon-ish. (I mean, it’s me tho, so what does soon even mean?)

Anyway, if you want to read a preview of Alien Escape (erotic ffm) and meet Drea, a girl with big dreams and a plan to get as far away from her toxic parents as she can, read on!

CW: allusions to domestic violence and emotional abuse

Also, if you’re wondering if I really have face inspiration for an alien couple, the answer is yes. I do! Y’all should watch Star Trek: Discovery!

                                                      Prologue                                    

 “Shut up!”

“You shut up! All you do is come in here and whine like a baby until you get your way.”

“When have I ever gotten my damn way in this fucking house? I work my fingers to the bone—”

“Where? When? Doing what?”

“Oh, fuck you! Someone’s gotta keep food on the table in this damn place—”

That’s about when I tune them out. My parents have the same fight every three to four days, like clockwork. It’s not really about anything, or not about anything specific; they just like to fight and really dislike each other. Mom hates living in Ohio, and she’ll never forgive dad for moving us out here. Dad hates living in Ohio too, but he refuses to admit that this was ever his idea. Money’s tight. There’s nothing to do. Neither of them can keep a job. Somehow, this is all my fault.

Different day, same bullshit, and why I don’t bother listening.

We all learn things from our parents, and mine taught me early and often that we all have lots of times in our lives when we can make decisions to not stay with people we barely know and can’t stand. My parents had more roads to escape than most.

My life as I know it might never have happened if their casual fling — without birth control, because dad didn’t believe in it — hadn’t turned into an unexpected, but obviously expected, pregnancy. That could have been a wakeup call, followed by a visit to a Planned Parenthood and an important life lesson learned, except mom was from a hardcore born-again family and didn’t believe in birth control or abortions. She believed in premarital sex, though, so I’m still trying to make sense of that faith system, but the damage was done. The damage being the mess those two made of my childhood because, even though they could have decided to co-parent or something, they apparently felt compelled to stay together. Why? I’ll never know, and I’m convinced they don’t know, either. My earliest self-realization wasn’t “This fucker took my nose!”, it was “My parents see me as a burden.” Can you imagine? Being barely old enough to sit up without wobbling and knowing, somehow, deep in your bones, that the two people who should love you unconditionally, don’t? It’s not a great life, just in case you need to see it in black and white. To my parents, I was just another mouth to feed, the thing that kept them bound to this person they hated more each day. Their entire relationship and my entire existence were just one bad decision after another, and the soundtrack to my entire life has just been this same argument.

They bickered all over New York in the almost-identical shoebox apartments they could just about afford, during our road trip West and ever since we settled in Akron. They don’t even like each other enough to shake up these knock-down, drag-out fights. Maybe a cheating accusation here, or a “Who ate the last piece of chicken?” there, but other than that, nothing.

The most interesting part of my life was that year just before they finally decided to move to Ohio. Dad had tried to feed me and mom some fairytale about how life would be different here — fewer people, better housing, more trees, less pollution and a stronger family unit. I never believed it, because in each of the yarns he spun, I was still with them — both of them — and there’s no happily ever after with them around; not for me, at least. But mom had been swayed, and next thing I knew, we were in a beat-up Ford truck, the entirety of our belongings packed precariously in the bed and heading West.  Surprise of all surprises, none of dad’s stories had been true.

Well, okay, let me be fair. There are technically fewer people in Akron than the Bronx, and the house we’ve been renting since we arrived is bigger than those small New York apartments, but besides that, my parents’ dysfunctional relationship and my shitty life are business as usual.

There were more trees when we got here, but I’m not giving dad credit for that since most of them were cut down about a year after we arrived to make room for the new pipeline running right through our backyard. That’s why the rent’s so cheap.

My parents fight about that, too.

The move wasn’t a Band-Aid to their relationship, and it certainly didn’t make my life better — not that anyone was worried about me — and as far as my parents are concerned, every problem in their life is my fault. They fight about it regularly and then circle right back around to being united against me, and that’s why as soon as mom banged the pot of spaghetti on the kitchen table, I scarfed down my portion and excused myself immediately.

Their problems aren’t my fault, I know that, but there’s no reasoning with them. It’s best to just disappear. I headed upstairs to my room with a mumbled “homework” and waited. Once I heard them start sniping at one another, I did what I always do and climbed up to the attic and out onto the roof. This is the only place where I feel safe, emotionally, if not physically. If I’m being honest, I really shouldn’t be up here. It’s slippery, and a bunch of the tiles are a good gust of wind away from falling off, but if my choices are inside my parents’ house and up here, the roof wins every time.

Out here, there’s enough space to escape my parents’ incessant fighting. The late spring air is a marked change from the stifling, probably not-quite-safe gas heat in our house. On a clear night, I can stand on the eastern edge of the roof and see all the way downtown, not that there’s much to see there. I mean, I can see the marquis of the Burger King where I work, but I’m not interested in that, so I usually look in the opposite direction. There’s not much to see there either, just a few farmhouses surrounded by large fields and the pipeline.  

But I’m not looking at any of that. I put my earbuds in my ears, turn my music up as loud as it goes and lay back on the roof to stare at the clear, dark blue sky. Sometimes, I haul my sketch book up here to draw, or pull my old astronomy textbook out and try to identify the constellations, but whatever I do, I say a prayer that my singular wish will come true. All I want is to get as far away from my parents as fast as I can.

My classmates are preparing for college, and lots of them want to enlist, but my only real goal post-graduation is to get away. I’ve worked out any number of escape routes up here. Instinctually, I know that I can’t just move to Columbus or Detroit. Those cities aren’t far enough away, and I’ve long been worried that my parents’ obvious co-dependency means that I need to put some serious miles between us if I want to have a chance at real freedom.

I toyed with the idea of leaving the country, but Burger King money doesn’t stretch nearly that far. Right now, I’m making just enough to give my parents one of my checks a month to help with household bills — and keep them off my back — and split the second between my cellphone bill and savings account. After three years, I have enough money saved to absolutely get the fuck out of Akron in exactly six months on my eighteenth birthday, and I plan to do exactly that, but I’m still working out the kinks in my escape route.

I’ve done the math, and I can either buy a decent used car or a plane ticket to California. Every time my dad comes home and tells mom that his paycheck was docked for calling in or mom hides yet another online delivery from dad, I’m tempted to go for the plane ticket, but I usually talk myself down from that impulse because I’m sensible, unlike my parents. Even though the thousands of miles away from here is attractive as fuck, I know that once I get off that plane, I’ll be broke as hell.

On the other hand, the rusty Honda Civic I have my eye on at the used car dealership downtown is sensible. It has less than 100,000 miles, good mileage, and if push came to shove, it could double as a temporary home. It wouldn’t be a six-hour plane ride to California, but I’ve got enough money that I could put some real distance between my parents and myself and have enough to really start the rest of my life.

But when I’m up on the roof, I also have another secret fantasy. It’s not real, but when my parents are really loud, and I worry that the yelling and crashing might turn to the sound of fists hitting skin and bone, I dream of space. Forget California or Tokyo, I wish I could go to the moon or beyond. There’s a tiny, terrified girl inside me that knows in her bones that the only way to really escape my parents is up above me. Sometimes, I lay back on the roof and imagine what it would be like to know that I was far enough away that I’d never have to hear my parents wake me up arguing again. It’ll never happen, but some nights, daydreams of flying up into the sky are the only things that make me feel safe enough to fall asleep. But just like with San Francisco, I bury that deep inside myself and calculate how many shifts I need to work to have the full price of the used Honda. The sky is my fantasy, just like Ohio had been my parents’, but that Honda Civic is the real path to freedom.

The sound of glass breaking hits my ears in the quiet between two songs, and I jump at the shock of it. I tap my cellphone screen to pause my music. I pull the earbud from my left ear and listen, trying to figure out which part of the argument they’re at now.

“Do you feel better?” dad yells at mom.

I roll my eyes, shove my earphone back into my ear and press play on the music again.

Mom likes to break dishes when she’s really frustrated but trying to hold it together; it’s why the few dishes we have don’t match. I suspect she’s gonna drag me to the Goodwill tomorrow to look for a replacement for whatever she’s broken, and I can’t have that. I pick up my phone and tap out a quick text message to my boss, Peter. In a plea that he’s very familiar with, I tell him that I’m available to cover any shifts tomorrow. Peter’s a good guy, and I know that he’ll do what he can to get me a shift, even if it’s just a few hours or closing. I’ll take it, and he knows I will. I’ll also immediately put whatever extra money I get directly into my savings account and readjust my timetable to purchasing the Honda and getting the fuck out of here.

The music builds to a crescendo and mercifully drowns out my parents’ screaming as I look back up at the sky.

On nights like tonight, the moon is so clear and big that I swear it’s close enough to touch. I stretch out my right arm above me, squint one eye closed, tilt my head to the left and pretend to capture the moon between my thumb and forefinger. I smile for the first time in what feels like hours, maybe even days.

And then I see it.

While I’m looking, a small speck in the sky moves across my vision, only visible because it passes the light of the full moon. At first, I think it’s a distant star, or maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me. I blink, and something in the sky moves again. Whatever’s up there, it’s too far away to see clearly, so I sit up, trying to make sense of it all. It’s moving too slow to be a shooting star and too fast to be…well, literally anything else. I pull my earphones from my ears, as if it will sharpen my vision. I stare up at the speck that’s now bigger, closer; close enough for me to realize that the one speck is actually a cluster of distant lights. I’m not looking at a star or a planet but a constellation that’s moving in formation towards me. Toward the Earth.

But that’s not possible. I know that. I aced astronomy.

“What the fuck?” I whisper to myself.

As if in answer to my whispered question, those bright not-stars seem to move faster and get bigger in the large pane of sky above my house as they get closer. The lights seem to fill the sky of this boring ass town with a pipeline running through it dangerously close to the local drinking water; this town my parents hate that I can’t wait to escape.

I shake my head and turn to the right. My eyes land on the pipeline cutting through the fields behind our house. I can barely remember a time when it wasn’t the first thing I saw when I woke up in the morning. I’ve read dozens of articles about what it is and how much time it’s probably shaving off of my life. I guess the environmentalists were right and assume that thing must finally be leaking. It has to be. Because how else do I explain what I think I’m seeing in the sky?

And when I tilt my head back to look up there, I gasp and jump to my feet.

In the handful of seconds when I’d been looking away, those not-stars seem to have come closer. Like real close. Now they’re so close that no one can mistake them for stars because no stars have ever been so damn clear in the sky or moved so fast. I watch as they get closer and closer, and then I shriek in shock as the constellation breaks apart.

If I’m hallucinating this, whatever the pipeline is leaking is grade-A lethal shit.

The lights disperse so fast that I actually miss it. One second, there’s a cluster of lights heading toward me, too many for me to count clearly. The next second, I blink. Then the next second, there are only five lights still above me, but I can see turquoise blue light streaks in the sky heading in thousands of different directions. And then in another second, those five lights begin to slowly move apart, still descending, closer to the Earth’s surface. They’re landing, I realize, and my mouth falls open.

“Fuck,” I breathe as my mouth curves into a smile so wide it hurts.

Now that there are fewer lights and they’re even closer than before, I can just about recognize what’s hovering in the sky above me. They’re ships, and not space shuttles like the ones I’ve seen in my social studies textbooks about the moon landing. These not-stars are huge, bigger than the biggest plane I’ve ever seen in the sky, maybe even bigger than the entire town, and they’re not US-made shuttles or like anything I’ve seen of Russian or Chinese ships. These big, hovering ships look like they’re covered in shimmering jewels, glittering as if reflecting their own sunlight. “Fuck,” I breathe again.  

“Drea, are you up there? Girl, get off the fucking roof, we can’t afford no emergency room visit. Do you hear me?”

I hear my dad yelling at me. I do. I just don’t give a shit, because there’s an alien spaceship in the sky almost directly above our house — an actual fucking spaceship — and this is infinitely more interesting than him reaming me out for being on the roof again. Besides, I hear the moment when he sees what I’m seeing and stops caring that I might stumble and fall off the roof. I hear the choked gasp that comes from his lips just before my mom bangs out of the front door, still yelling. I hear her words cut off when she sees the ship too, the final confirmation I need that I’m not having a pipeline hallucination, but still, I don’t care.  

Because I’m speechless. I know, deep down in my gut, that this ship is going to change everything about the world I’ve ever known, and I can’t help but feel elated. My body feels light, as if I weigh nothing more than my fantasies. I swear I could float up to one of those ships, and that’s exactly what I want to do. I want to bang on the door of a ship and beg them to let me in, because I can feel the surety along every inch of my skin that this ship is going to be my way out. This ship is going to get me as far away from Akron and my parents and that damn pipeline as possible.

My mother’s scream is a delayed response to seeing the impossible, and it rips into the quiet night. She keeps screaming and screaming, but dad and I are too mesmerized to stop her. Eventually, I hear our neighbors begin to file out of their houses, probably when they realize that mom’s screams are different from their regular weekday fights. I hear them gasp and cry out. Babies are crying, and other people’s screaming joins mom’s. There’s even the sound of the hurricane warning blaring out eventually, but none of those noises seem to touch me; not anymore. It’s like they’re far away because I’m already gone.

[chilly-me-softly]

What about y/n starts dating/is dating Ben but she lives in a different European country and they try to work/work things out even tho she leaves home during the weekdays because she has work and college at home. She does travel to Leicester City every time Ben has a home game so they pretty much spend the weekends together all the time. But she starts to feel like she is putting in more effort in all of this and conforms him about it and they have an argument before an important game..

It all started by chance, a cousin of yours and his girlfriend had moved to Leicester to try and find work and when they got settled they kept telling you to come and visit them practically every time you had a chance to talk. And one day you’d given up, having days off from university, you’d taken a week off at work too and got on a plane. You never expected to meet this guy in a bar -where your cousin took you to try some dish you couldn’t remember the name of- and to keep in touch with him over the phone almost every day, even when you were back home and miles away from him.

He would always ask you when you were coming back for a real first date, or at least chatting face to face if labeling it as a date would be too much. So one weekend you tell him you were flying in and he invites you to one of his games. Because that guy is Ben Chilwell, the Leicester City defender, and you fell for him without even seeing him twice in a row in person.

What started out as a relationship without too many questions, ended up becoming a serious thing in a very short space of time. Both couldn’t bear the idea that the other could have what you two have but with someone else. The only thing that led you to sit down and seriously discuss whether or not to start a relationship was distance. You had immediately made it clear that you wouldn’t abandon the university you had entered only by yourself to be with him. You didn’t know each other well enough to say that it would last, despite the willingness to get to know each other was there. And the same thing had been for him, he wouldn’t have accepted transfers elsewhere and you wouldn’t have let him for the same reason you would have stayed at yours. If things had got even more serious, you would have had that conversation again, but until then he in his house and you in yours.

And that’s the way it works, you worked so that you could afford college but since Saturdays and Sundays were your only days off from uni, you made sure to have them off at work too. Sometimes you went to work overtime and your co-workers were flexible enough to swap a few shifts in case you got exams or something. Anyway, the fact is that it was easier for you and Ben to see if you were the one moving, because between his training sessions and the various games it seemed impossible for him to do that.

You were on a plane on Friday night right after the end of your shift, you spent the weekend with Ben cheering him and his team almost every week -when he had away games it wasn’t worth travelling and you agreed it was better not to-, spend the rest of the time together and then come home on Sunday night, have time to rest and work on Monday night.

It was a routine you were willing to do to see him, you couldn’t wait to get on that plane and maybe the fact that you couldn’t always see each other made the weekends special. Fridays never seemed to arrive in a hurry and during the course of the week, if something big happened, you would write it down on a piece of paper so you wouldn’t forget what to tell him. Stuff only a crazy lover could do.

Then a friend of yours had left the single world and often told you how her boyfriend had been ill and she had helped him recover by cooking for him, or places they had gone to visit on the weekend. You were jealous of your friend because she had dates with the boyfriend for crying out loud!

And it makes you think, if you had the flu or worse an accident Ben would leave everything to come to you? If you were freaking out about an exam, would he come just for a touch and go to comfort you? I mean, you’ve been together for months now and he hasn’t seen your apartment or the place you work or anything at all about your life.

With these thoughts that have accompanied your week, you arrive at the airport. An important weekend ahead of you, a game that could have taken Leicester City to a Cup Final after years. And you promised him you’d be there, as always, because it’s important to him.

He has practice when you arrive so he’s not at the airport waiting for you as usual, the house keys under a plant to let you in and settle in while he picks up some takeaway food and comes back. You can’t deny that seeing him always has the same effect on you even after months, you feel like a fire inside that grows bigger and bigger when he smiles or touches you or does anything involving him.

But this time there’s something else next to the fire and you know it will wear you down if you don’t talk to him about it.

"What are we doing?" a simple question and he frowns, stopping his hand moving in your hair, while he was telling you that James wanted to meet you.

"Um, I'm not sure I understand"

"Us, Ben. What are we doing?" you clarify by getting up off his chest and looking into his eyes, "We're lying on this couch like nothing happened, like we don't live miles apart"

"Should we cry because you're leaving in a few days?" he giggles trying to joke about it but you look at him badly stopping him right away.

"Don't joke about it Ben, it's not the time" you sigh passing your hand through your hair, "I've been taking almost ten planes a month flying back and forth between my house and yours for months now"

"I didn't think it weighed on you so much" he replied contemptuously, sitting composed on the couch. "That's not the point!"

"So what is it?" he asks, raising his voice a few, making you raise it too. "I fucking miss you! I'd like to hug you Monday to Friday too, not just when it's good for you" your chest goes up and down rhythmically like you just running a marathon. You look into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity before he gets up.

"I fucking miss you too, sometimes it's like I'm out of breath without you. But-"

"No, I don't want to hear any unnecessary excuses tonight. I'm going to bed" you lock the guest room door behind you for the first time since you've been at Ben's, you've always slept with him using that room just to put the suitcase. But now slipping with your back against the surface seems the right thing to do, Ben falls back on the sofa hiding his face in his hands and sighing.

The night passes almost sleepless for both of you, exhausted let the sleep take over when the alarm clock is only a few hours away. You don't leave the room until you hear the front door slam, making him believe you're still asleep when in reality you've heard his every step and every swearing.

As you sigh you get up and get dressed, the shirt with his name is the first thing you take out of the suitcase. You may have shouted at each other the night before, but you always keep your promises.

You get to the stadium and hope no one sees you, you not in the mood to make conversation. Your eyes hidden behind thick black sunglasses as you head for your seat, waiting for the game to start.

"Mate, why didn't (Y/N) come to say hi as usual?" James asks Ben by doing pre-match warm-up exercises. His gaze falls on your usual spot and when he sees it occupied his heart skips a beat. When he doesn't answer, James sighs. "Did you two have a fight?" Ben still doesn't answer, he looks at him just to say 'is it that obvious?' and James pats him on the shoulder before going back into the locker room. It's time to focus on the game.

This ends with a draw and Ben's mood is even lower than usual, clear errors on his part that could have led to a possible victory. "Hey" he hears a familiar voice calling as he goes back into the locker room head down, you with a slight smile on your face as you wait for him to come to you.

"If you want me, I'll be there for the second leg"

"But it's an away game" you shrug as he kisses you in trough the crowd.

[yoongisbars]

quest of omission | myg (2)

summary: The war between kingdoms was starting and being Freywind’s highest ranking Captain, you would always be there to defend your people from the treachery of Woodwind. There’s just one problem: their best killer, The Silence, and his insufferable ability to make your heart race with both loathing and yearning. And now, on the verge of death after an ambush gone wrong, you both have no choice but to keep each other alive. 

pairing: myg x reader genre: enemies to lovers au | knight!yoongi au | future angst? fluff? | drabble series word count: 2.1k parts: 2/_ | 1 cw: prolly shitty yet cruel depictions of death and aggressive encounters(no smut tho chill) note: so we gonna get a bit more of The Silence in this one, but also some non bts chars bc of depth: my walnut brain needed it for its original purpose and im not changing it       

      A sharp burning pain crept up from within your lungs. The need to cough, gag and vomit was what brought you back. You spewed nothing but the murky water that was surrounding you. After gathering your senses, you try to stand up, trying to recollect how did you even get here, but the memory of the reservoir bursting quickly made its way to your mind. You were soaked head to toe, and covered in mud here and there, and surely you almost drowned, but whatever entity decided you were worthy of living certainly gave you a fighting chance. All in all, you were alive and in one piece. You couldn’t say the same for the few bodies you stumbled across as you wandered the forest. It was dark and endless, congested by spruce, willow, and sequoia trees. Roots curled the surface, accompanied by shallow waters and mud holes. You were thankful of the full moon illuminating the nearly impossible ground you walked. Whenever you came across a body, you prayed it wasn’t Taehyung, Mare, or anyone of closeness. But these were the consequences of battle. You found the bodies of Woodwind men, as well as your own. Looting what was necessary in order to make do. It was a crude sentiment, but they didn’t need whatever they carried anymore. They were long dead. You happened to find a decent knife, like your personal one, which you had managed to keep safely tucked against your thigh.

         You wandered and wandered and wandered and all you ever came across was the occasional body or a small woodland animal of any sort. No matter which direction you headed, it always seemed like you were going deeper into the woods. You hoped to find a riverbank so that maybe you could try to find your way back to the ambush location and from there head back to Freywind, but not even that.           Time passed but for you it stilled. All you could do was walk aimlessly around the woods in cold weather while soaking wet, trying to at least find shelter of any sort, until your eyes set on a pair of bodies you were all too familiar with… Your beloved underlings. They were at your side moments before the flooding, but now their bodies laid sprawled over roots and mud. From where you stood you could see Atlas’ open eyes, gaze facing nowhere but beyond… His mouth slightly agape, his lasts breaths must have been painful. Eyes that would look to you for guidance and a mouth that would cheer you on, are far gone from this plane of existence. You didn’t know if what was dripping down your face were tears, or remnants of the water you escaped, practically unscathed. Your steps were careful and slow as you got closer. Next to him, was Aeron… His ragged breathing barely a whisper, eyes shut, and face pained. You kneeled beside him, and his name was a whisper escaping your lips. “Aeron?” Your eyes couldn’t help but give him a once over, and it wasn’t until you were in such proximity that you noticed what had him in agony. He winced as he opened his eyes, slightly turning his head over to face you. All color was drained from him, his lips were already turning to an ungodly shade of blue that you had never imagined to be faced with. Even if you knew war eventually led to death, you didn’t imagine death ever touching them, or the gruesome way that it did. “Captain… You’re okay…” His voice cracked and faded, came and went. Whatever strength he still had; he was using it all to speak. “I’m so glad.” Tears started to stream from his eyes as he forced a gentle smile, and you couldn’t help but mimic him. You denied looking down once more, to what came out of his torso, but the source of his slow suffering was impossible to neglect. A large, sharp, twisted root was stained in scarlet as blood continued to pool beneath him.

“Aeron, I’m so sorry. Atlas…” His cold body laid across you, his hand tightly grasped by Aeron’s. It would have been a mercy had they died at once, but one had to suffer while the other was a corpse next to him.

“He passed not long ago. The water… It threw him against those rocks, and I got… stuck here.” Aeron struggled to speak, not raising his gaze from his comrade. “Still, he tried to crawl his way here. He died moments after reaching me.” Their bond was one of the purest, unmatched by any, until the end. “Captain, would you do me the favor of closing his eyes?” Your nod was small, but genuine. A trembling hand neared Atlas’ cold face, placing it over his lids. You let it rest there for a moment as you let out a tiny sob.

“Thank you, thank you…” The grip of Aeron’s hand on Atlas’ tightened. As if giving him a final goodbye.“Have you found any live ones?” You didn’t notice when Aeron was facing you again.

“No. Not yet.” You wiped away at the residue coming out of your nostrils. “Has anyone been nearby?” The young boy softly shook his head. His free hand slowly went to reach your face, thumb wiping away at the tears that were still streaming.

“Captain, it’s okay. These situations are inevitable in war, you taught us so.” You shook your head as you gently squeezed his hand. Not like this, never like this. “It has been my greatest honor to train under you and fight alongside you. I’m sure Atlas would say the same.” His words were slow and ragged, but genuine. In his eyes, embers were fading, but one spark remained.

“Take my necklace. Make sure when you get out of here and return home, please give it to Sian, give her my regards, tell her what I never could… Tell her I love her dearly...” Regret and numbness welled in his eyes, the pain of not returning to the love of his life was greater than that of being impaled. Your hands made their way towards his neck, slowly removing his necklace, avoiding him any more pain. You placed it around yours and safely tucked it under your mucky clothes.

“I will. I’ll let her know you thought of her until the end.” You went for his hand and gave him a squeeze of reassurance, not letting go.“Thank you.”

         You stayed by Aeron’s side in silence, refusing to let go of his hand, focused on his ragged breathing and the cold night surrounding you. You couldn’t bare seeing him like this, but neither putting him out of his misery. Not like he wanted you to anyways, all he wanted was for you to be by his side until nature took its course, just like he was for Atlas. You felt the grip he had on your hand slowly loosen up, as his head slowly rolled to the side and against your shoulder until you heard it. It was faint, but you heard it. You would continue to hear it for the rest of your existence. The final sign of life escaped him when his breath did, and he was gone. It took time to get there, but he was gone in an instant.

          Sobs escaped from your inner core. Your underlings were dead beside you, their bodies would not be put to rest in a proper burial where their loved ones can have their final goodbyes. They would be left in a forest in God knows where, together at the very least. Alone, but together.

          With shivery legs, you got up and gently repositioned Atlas’ body in a more comfortable manner, placing both his hands over his chest. A grim expression grew on your face as, through tears, you tried removing Aeron’s body from the root. More sobs got stuck on your throat as more blood poured from his chest, no wonder his light armor couldn’t withstand such mighty root. Once his body mimicked Atlas’, you scouted the nearby area for flowers. Carefully plucking some delicate blue ones; you placed them in their hands. You sat in front of their bodies silently, accepting that they were gone, and you were alone. Alone, but together. It was a small comfort, they were only lifeless bodies with you, but at least they were with you, and you gave them both a small, decent send off to the beyond. Your goodbyes you kept to yourself. Your regrets as well.

           As you mourned your losses, the sound of a snapping twig broke you away from your sorrows. Wiping your tears away with one arm and drawing your small blade with the other as you stood, you surveyed your surroundings with caution. Breathing was close to nonexistent as you tried to be as silent as you could, if only to listen more carefully. Wary footsteps got closer in sound, but you couldn’t see anything or anyone yet. Not until they peered themselves into view from behind some trees, less guarded than you were.

“You…” When your eyes deciphered who it was, the anger inside you soon started to boil again. It was his fault, it was his unit, it was he who led the ambush.

“You.” He slowly retired the blade he was ready to draw back to its sheath once he realized it was only you. Still wet, shivering, covered in mud, blood, and tears. His eyes travelled to the bodies behind you, peacefully laid out, and then travelled back to you. He had never seen someone that looked so distraught completely shift into rage and fury.

“Don’t look at them, lowlife scum.” Low, harsh tones met his ears. “It’s your fucking fault I lost them. I’m going to kill you.” The last sentence was drawn out so slowly, he was almost taken aback when you lunged for his throat with your blade, ready to return the scar he left you with and take his life while you were at it. But he was quicker. Before you could land a single hit, his hands clasped around your wrists with more force than necessary. In a second, he forced your body around, kicking you behind your knees. You dropped to the ground in pain. 

“You really think I’ll quit?” Attempting, but failing, to stab him while throwing your arms back at him, he twisted your wrists above you until nearly snapping them, with an aching yelp, the blade fell out of your hands. He quickly let you go and pushed you forwards. You winced and seethed as you brought your semi injured wrists up to your chest. Using the lesser pained hand, your reached for the blade, but were quickly halted by the weight of his boot, causing another agonized bawl to escape your lips. 

“I suggest not.” He lifted his foot off your hand and kicked away the knife beneath it. Wincing and scowling, you crawled your way to the sanctuary of your dead comrades. It wasn’t fair. You were supposed to get revenge, if not for yourself, for them. What kind of a sorry Captain were you? Couldn’t protect your unit from an ambush, couldn’t secure them from the currents, and couldn’t even avenge them at the very least by hurting the one man who caused all this. Instead, he stood above you and you were rendered to nothing in mere seconds. His bored gaze loomed over you like a curse, and you understood why they called him Silence. He drew out a long breath as he averted his gaze elsewhere, wiping mud off his brow. He was just as much of dirty mess as you were. Puddles sloshed as he marched away.

“I’m finding a way out. You’re more than welcome to come along, if you keep your hands and blades to yourself.” A barked laugh escaped your throat.

“Why would I search for a way out with the likes of you?” You were already on your feet, pain from your knees and wrists subsiding. His sudden turn caught you off guard, but you refused to show it.

“Then meet a fate no better than your companions’.” He jutted his chin over to where Aeron and Atlas’ bodies laid. The calm, cool tone for such a vile string of words made you uneasy. Being this near him, under the moonlight, without the rush of battle or alcohol in your veins, you were able to see him better. He was not that much taller than you, and yet? He always made you feel so small, so vulnerable and rendered you utterly and completely defenseless…

“I’d rather take my chances with the woodland night.” You took a few steps backwards and plopped down on the muddy ground.

His fingers brushed the muddy, brown locks out of his face. Shrugging, he went on his way. “Alright, alone then.”

***************

my makeshift taglist:

@loveyoongles

@stoeq

​

i had to repost sorry

[mininky]

Tainted Souls (Taehyung)

Summary: Vampires were no longer a myth, the world knew that they were very very real. The world wasn’t ready for it, and they really weren’t ready to find out that all those whacky conspiracy theorists finally got something right. A lot of celebrities were, in fact, undead. Including BTS. Touring constantly, always on the move it was painfully difficult to ensure that they received their meals. Until their manager learned of a business that specialized in vampire fine dining.

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: Oral sex (female/male receiving), biting, multiple orgasms, swallowing of bodily fluids, no condoms (don’t do that!)

Word count: 6.3K

Series list: Prologue, Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook

   "What book are you reading?" You look behind you on the plane to see Taehyung standing up at an awkward angle so he can peer over your shoulder.    "Dracula." You move your sights back to the book in front of you, trying not to smile at the laughter ringing out above you.    "Dracula, really? So, does that make you my Mina?"    "If I was your Mina then I would have gathered a group of men who would have become so completely infatuated with my kind, sincere, and oh-so-innocent character that they would murder you for me. Well, technically for her fiance, but let's be honest they all did it for Mina." You try to go back to reading but close the book when you realize your eyes have been dancing over the same page for the last few minutes. You put your bookmark in and look up again to see Tae giving you a boxy grin.    "Yeah, well I suppose in a sense you are Mina. You could definitely have a bunch of dudes do your bidding."    "Is that so?"    "Yup." You watch Tae whip his head back around and can barely hear Namjoon saying something about 'sit down' over the hum of the engine. Tae, however, stays up anyways. It can't be comfortable, he's having to stand at an obscure angle/crouch in order to avoid banging his head on the overhead. "But I appreciate that you aren't trying to kill the vampire and you aren't really Mina. Besides, cute and innocent gets boring really fast, doesn't it (y/n)?"    You watch Jin's hand clasp around Taehyung's collar and jerk him back into the seat before you can even respond. So instead you have to settle on pulling up your KKT (and paying the outrageous WIFI fee) so you can have the last word. "Why kill the vampire when it's so much more fun to fuck them?" You wait a few moments, praying that Tae also paid for in-flight WIFI before you hear him sputter and cough behind you. Checkmate.    You and Tae have been playing a game of cat and mouse from the moment you met. It's hard not to be drawn to him. He's charismatic, handsome, sweet, and he has this air of unflappable confidence that comes close but never fully crosses the line into arrogance. And you...well you've found your new favorite past time but you never thought about the implications it would bring about later in time. You and Tae flirt back and forth with each other constantly, but you've never crossed the line. Come close, dipped a toe over, sure...but you refuse to be the first one to break. Oh no, Tae will be the one to break.    He's not like the normal fuck boy type, you'll give him that. In fact, he's not even really a fuck boy, he just has the tendencies. He's got this really sweet, sensitive, kind side to him. He's also very intuitive, the type of person to know exactly what you need or want before you ever say it. But he's also the type that's unapologetically himself and it's naturally an easy attractant for women. He could have any pick of the litter, and he knows it. He walks like he knows it, talks like he knows it, but he never actually comes out and says it. And the thought of conquering him, of being the one that he begs for. The one that gets the cocky side of him to bow down before your feet. Oh yes, you'll break him. Unlike Tae, who flirts shamelessly possibly just for the fun of it, you do it for more perverse and personal reasons.    You're attracted to him. More than you'd care to admit too. You want him, you want all of him. You're not sure where in the game that started happening, but you know it's far earlier on than you care to admit to yourself. But he doesn't need to know that. Not until he's worshiping you, and then you'll bare your heart and soul. But he needs to break first. You want to wash off that cocky grin from his face, you want to see him vulnerable and bare to you. And as much as you'd like to pretend it was just a game of conquering the man who can conquer all it was now much more than that. So you've been pushing harder than ever, trying to get him to cross the finish line. You think he probably understands what you're doing. And it seems to you that he's drawing it out to see if you'll break first instead. You've had to slow back down in retaliation. Well, that and the fact that you had been so caught up in the thrill of the chase that you've had witnesses. Technically just one witness actually, just on a few occasions.    Unfortunately, poor Jungkook has been caught in the crossfires of your little 'chases' a few times now. So now you have to be a little bit more careful. Poor Jungkook. The last time he walked in on the two of you had been the worst. He'd found Taehyung feeding from your thigh when he came over to see if Taehyung wanted to play a video game of some sort with him. As if it wasn't bad enough of a position with your dress hiked up and your expensive black lace and chiffon underwear on full display it of course just had to happen right when he finally started looking you in your eyes after he accidentally saw the racy photo you'd sent Tae a few weeks prior. It wasn't that bad, but you're pretty sure that he's maybe seen boobs in real life a handful of times and that didn't help anything. He's a shy, innocent thing under all that bravado he puts on stage. Jungkook still refuses to talk around you, he just turns into an awkward statue and runs away which has caused his blood type endless entertainment recently. She's been using you just to chase away Jungkook, and it's only made you tread more lightly in your game with Taehyung.    Your thoughts are brought back to the present when you hear your phone buzz. You glance over at Jungkook's blood type on your right and Jin's blood type on your left to see both of them sound asleep before pulling up the text. It wasn't a dick pic per say. It alluded to it, but the angle cut off right after the thatch of well-groomed pubic hair. Interesting, so he doesn't shave completely. Somehow, you kind of anticipated him to be an all or nothing kind of guy. Not that you're complaining. The real question is how to respond?    You take a moment to ponder your options before a text pops up.

[Tae-Tae] Speechless? [you] No, I'm just debating if you shave and trim or just trim.    What a cocky little shit. You'll break him one day, you swear it. [Tae-Tae] Care to find out? [you] Hmm... [Tae-Tae] I'll show you if you ask me. ;) [you] Nah, I think my own imagination is probably better. [Tae-Tae] :( It's not tho [you] Whatever you say, babe. [Tae-Tae] babe? I get nicknames now? What can I call you? How about baby doll? [you] Gross, veto. [Tae-Tae] Princess? [you]...I can work with that one, but it's not my favorite. [Tae-Tae] My queen? [you] Much better. I accept from you my humble servant.

   You try to stifle your laughter as Taehyung suddenly appears down the aisle. He shoots you another boxy grin and leans over for a moment to whisper in your ear.    "See, I told you. You can get guys to do their bidding. All you have to ask and your wish is my command. My queen." You look at him for a moment before staring back straight ahead.    "I'd rather hear you beg." You watch his pupils dilate for a moment when you spare a short glance back his way, his head cocked to the side before he finally moves back over to his seat when a stewardess starts walking by.

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

   A few days later and you're finally back in the comfort of your own home. In a strange way, you aren't actually that happy with it. Being out and exploring and...being with Tae...well it's fun. But meanwhile back at the ranch you just go through tedious monotonous tasks of daily life. Not that it's that bad, it's really nice to be able to catch up on all your favorite shows and finish a book in your favorite spot on the couch. It's just...well it's boring.    You've been going and traveling nonstop for the last couple of months, and sure it could be stressful. Especially trying to get through an airport while not being caught with BTS and the constant reminder of 'no scandals, we hired you to be discrete' from the ever so lovely management. (Honestly, with some of the stunts you've seen the other girls pull you're surprised that there hasn't been a scandal yet. It's not that they aren't discrete, it's more that...well there's zero tolerance for bullshit from some of the other girls when fans get out of hand.) But with all its rules the job is still worth it. You got to explore museums and sites and food all over the world. Your bank account is certainly not a concern any time soon. But more importantly...with Tae. And when you're back at home...well you're just a regular old girl again. When you're with Tae it's like everything is an adventure, his optimistic boyish charm is infectious. When it's back to just you in your apartment though it's like everything is slightly muted.    Your thoughts wander back to Taehyung for a moment. The tour had ended with things getting...slightly awkward between the two of you. You're pretty sure that both of you are getting tired of this little game, but both of you are too stubborn to try for something more. Each conversation with him lately has kept you on edge, both of you seem to be daring the other person to just say it first. You know you're in deep shit, you don't just like him...you love him. And that puts you in an odd spot. This is after all your job. And he is after all famous and under a microscope constantly. And then there's his personality. It's almost like there are two sides to him. The flirty grand charismatic face he shows the world and then the much more serious, sometimes stoic side he'll occasionally give you a glimpse of. But what's real with him? You can't help but wonder if he actually likes you, or if he more just enjoys teasing you. And this dilemma really isn't his fault, it's yours. You started this. You were the one challenging him, instead of just coming forward and being honest. But being honest is scary. Rejection is a serious possibility, and you're not sure if you'll ever be able to recover from it. I mean, sure you will, but...man it won't be easy. And let's say he does reject you, do you have to go back to your old routine at Tainted Souls all over again?    You're in the middle of a deep True Blood binge under the confines of the pillow fort you've made when a knock at the door interrupts your thoughts and has you pausing the show. You have no clue who it could possibly be. Your friends rarely show up unannounced and all of them have day jobs so considering that it's only 1:00 in the afternoon it couldn't possibly be them. And you didn't order any food, you actually forced yourself to cook for once just a little while ago. You peak your head out the pillow fort and squint at the door (not that it's helpful in any way but you're hoping you can somehow will the person away if you do this long enough.) Another round of knocks, louder this time, ring through the apartment before the doorbell is rung no less than five times in under thirty seconds.    You grunt as you crawl out of the fort before marching over to the door. Swinging it open you're ready to give an earful at your intruder before seeing that damn boxy grin.    "Tae?"    "Hiya, my queen. I was just bored and in the area and-"    "How do you know where I live?" Taehyung stops for a moment and you see a mischevious glint in his eye.    "I have my ways. Are you going to invite me in?"    "What is this, some old-timey vamp shit? Yes, please, I invite you in oh undead one." Tae chuckles as he steps in, his shoulders brushing against yours momentarily before he steps aside to take off his shoes. "You aren't off the hook that easy though. How did you find out where I live?"    "It's on your resume, duh." You watch him survey your small apartment before his eyes light. "Is that a pillow fort???" He skips with glee over to the area, a childlike innocence and enthusiasm taking over as he crawls down and shuffles into the area. "What are we watching?"    "We're not watching anything. I was watching..." You stop yourself short. How do you explain to a vampire that you're basically watching a vampire porn show that got a disturbing amount of things about vampires right? I mean, the Dracula thing was already a bit embarrassing enough but hey, it's a classic!    "What, cat got your tongue? Come on, come join me in the fort, my queen!" You glance over to see him patting at the side next to him before finally giving in with a reluctant sigh. You didn't exactly make enough space for two people though, so you're squeezed rather tightly next to his side. "So...were you watching porn?"    "...no..." No that would almost be less embarrassing, unfortunately.    "That...that wasn't the answer I was expecting. Oh...oh my god. You WERE weren't you?" You're struck with horror as he moves to press play. Why god? Why you? Why didn't you destroy all the evidence before opening the door? Why didn't you hide the remote? Why couldn't you have been watching anything else other than-    The sounds of moaning fills the room. Of fucking course, this just had to be the worst possible scene for it to start on. And of course you just haaaad to watch the whole series over from the beginning and this is the part where they find the tape of the girl who died after sleeping with a vampire who chains her up has very rough sex with her and then drains her.    "Holy shit, this is...this is really kinky. It feels like I'm watching some of Hobi-hyung's stash, but worse. Wow. It's always the ones you least expect I guess." His eyes are glued to the screen as it finally cuts back to the police.    "No!!!! No, no no no no no no no!!!" You're smacking Tae repeatedly on his arm, hoping that you're somehow making your illiterate rant get across to him. "No, it's a TV show. It's called True Blood! It's about vampires and okay it's honestly trashy and kind of awful but I mean, they got so much right. A lot of it wrong, but so much right too! Like synthetic blood, and vampires coming out of the coffin! And and and..." You stop at the sound of Taehyung laughing maniacally at your outburst. "Oh fuck off Tae. Even if I was watching porn I'm allowed to do so! Who died and made you my dad? Also, what ARE you even doing here? Don't think I bought that 'I was in the area' bullshit! You're not getting off that easy mister!"    "Mister, really?" Tae sighs before cuddling closer into your side, his face pressing into your shoulder. "I just missed you, if you really must know."    "Oh." What does that admission mean? Does it mean...no he couldn't possibly be throwing in the towel.    "Oh?"    You glance down to see Tae looking up at you through his messy fringe. You hadn't really paid attention when he first came in, but he looks paler, tired. "OH, you're hungry." He rolls his eyes before he cuddles even closer and throws a leg over you. You pray that your heart will stop thundering soon because you know for a fact he can hear it.    "Not really. I still have two more days before I need to eat. I told you, I just missed you. Is that such a crime?"    "You look hungry. Tae, you don't need to lie. If you just came because you need to eat that's fine, I'm sure you've been working harder now that you're back and-"    "I told you that's not why I'm here!" His face snaps up, and you're suddenly reminded by his inhuman speed that he is indeed a creature not to take lightly as he's straddling you. His eyes bore into yours, flickers of annoyance tracing over his features. "Why don't you believe me?"    "What?"    "Why, why do you do all these games? You fuck with me, and you play these games, and god I can't get you out of my fucking head. Your taste, your smell, your laugh fuck it's like they're just running through my mind all god damn day. And then you have the audacity to act surprised? How could I not miss you? Is this all it is to you, just some game? Because I swear to fucking god if it is I'm-"    "It's not just a game. I mean, it kind of started that way but..." You trail off, your eyes refusing to look up at him for longer than a few seconds.    Tae relaxes at your admission, but his gaze never wavers. He's clearly waiting for you to continue, but you're too stubborn. After a minute of the two of you daring the other to speak first, he finally gives a small chuckle before throwing his face into your neck. "God, you just really want to make me say it first, don't you?"    "Yes." Your words come out tiny and small, and you suddenly feel incomprehensibly stupid for just not being honest with him sooner.    "Why?"    "Because you're you. You could get anything, anyone. And...I don't know at first it was just to get someone as great of a catch as you to look at me and I was kind of bored with having just one client. But then...it just morphed into something more. The more time I spent with you the more I wanted you to really like me. Like really really like me, not just want me...you know? But...I guess...I'm also just really afraid of rejection. A game of cat and mouse keeps things easy and light-hearted, feelings don't really have to be involved."    "I fell for you so long ago it's ridiculous. I just figured it was all just fun and games for you so I didn't admit anything. We're both idiots aren't we?"    You find yourself grinning up at his words. "Yeah but...we can be idiots together."    "I like the sound of that, a lot." For a minute silence just fills the room, although it's not uncomfortable. It's more the two of you basking in the realization that there are no more games. Both of you are finally being honest with one another. And then after that warm and fuzzy glow starts to ebb away do you realize the rather compromising position you're in. He's still straddled over your hips, his hair falling down and eye's just barely peeking out, his hands resting on the side of your head and face just a few inches away. You're not sure what to do in this situation. Do you ask him to move? Do you kiss him? Do you touch him? What would be the most proper? Because really all you want is to feel his lips, but you're not sure if that's what he wants.    You're pretty sure he can see each thought playing out based off of the way he cocks his head to the side and lifts an eyebrow. You've never been very good at concealing your inner thoughts. (Note to self, work on your poker face.) So you steel your nerves and finally say in a voice you hope doesn't give away your anxiety, "Tae?" When he hums in response you finally lift your eyes to him. "Tae, can I kiss you?" His smile stirs something in you, a frenzy of joy and something slightly more carnal caused by his fangs shining down at you.    "Of course, my queen." He doesn't however budge. Clearly, he's going to make you work for it, and your stubborn side is starting to roll back in. You weave your hands into his hair (you'd like to note that it's oddly soft for all the chemical damage it's taken and you really should find out what shampoo he uses) to bring his lips down onto yours. The force of the movement causes a rather awkward clash of teeth, but neither of you seems to pay any mind. There's been too much build up, too much tension, to really care about little details like that.    His lips are slightly chapped and he tastes faintly like mint. It's not long before the kiss deepens into something less chaste, tongues roaming and exploring and hunger starts to drive both of you. Your hands untangle from his hair and move to his arms before snaking around his waist to flip him over. There's something so euphoric about seeing him under you, at seeing the shift as his eyes start to shine red and the way his breathing starts to stagger under your touch. And it hits you, really hits you then, that he's yours. Maybe the world gets a lot of him, but right now you get a side of him that they don't. Your lips trail down his neck as your hands slide up his shirt to feel the cool skin underneath. The way his muscles clench under your touch coupled with his soft panting has desire pooling into your underwear.    "You look so pretty like this." You grin as you peel his shirt off before leaving a wet trail of kisses down his torso.    "Pretty, really? Wouldn't handsome be a more apt description?" His hands are wound into your hair, pushing you slightly further down as you get steadily closer to the waistband of his sweats.    "Well, you are plenty handsome. But...I think you look pretty right now. Delectably pretty. Like a perfect meal presented to me." You linger at his pants, hands resting on the button before your attention flickers back to his face. "May I?"    "Please. But I mean, really? If anyone is the meal here it's you."    "The big bad vampire routine is unbecoming of you. Be a good boy though and you might just get a treat." The glare he levels at you has a giggle of elation bubbling up in your throat.    "Really, still with the games?"    "Do you want me to suck your dick or not Tae?" His head whips up as you slide down his pants and boxers, freeing his rapidly hardening cock only a mere few inches from your face. You'd like to note that he does, in fact, shave and groom. Guess the question is finally answered now that you're finally seeing the perfectly shaped triangle of hair in person.    "Fuck, no I do."    "Then just lie back down and be a good boy." He groans as he throws his head back, biting on his lip to stay quiet. You've always wanted to be the one to get under his skin, to make him fall apart, and now that you're finally here it's better than you ever imagined. You take a moment to just enjoy the site of him laying under you, twitching with barely controlled impatience. Your fingers ghost over his dick, lips coming down to pepper small kisses up along his thigh before halting right at his balls. His hips flex and shake the closer you get, precum beading up and falling onto his stomach.    "Jesus, please (Y/N), please just fucking touch me. This is just torture, cruel and unusual punishment. I'll do whatever you want just please, please just touch me."    "Whatever I want?" A cheshire cat grin is on your lips as you look at him. You get that technically you guys already agreed to be together, but hey you've been thinking for a long time about just what you would do when he finally breaks. And right now you're finally about to get what you've always wanted.    "Fuck, yes, just please fucking touch me."    "Hmm, okay, since you begged so nicely." You finally grasp his dick in your hand, tongue snaking along his balls before trailing up and enveloping his velvety head. The tangy precum smears over your lips as you lock eye contact with him, your smile growing wider at the long musical moan that falls out of him. Oh-ho, if Tae is already moaning he might just not be able to handle what you have prepared for him. You give him just a moment to calm down as you keep him resting in your mouth before finally sliding down to the base in one go.    "Oh, holy fuck. Fuck, fuck, oh god. You weren't fucking kidding when you said you were a pro at sucking dick, oh my god." You stay stationed at the base for a moment before working up, setting an easy rhythm for yourself to breath in as you go up and exhale slowly as he reaches past your molars. The dull ache in your jaw is worth it for the sweet sounds he's gracing you with. You can feel your panties clinging onto you, your own need beginning to cause a different dull ache. But that's not important, what's important right now is staying in charge. You aren't about to pass up this opportunity that you've worked so hard to finally get. "(Y/N), if you don't stop I'm going to ah fuck!" Your hands massage his balls gently before his hips buck with force into your throat and his cum is filling your mouth in hot white ropes.    His eyes are locked on yours as you finally pull away from him, giving small licks to clean up anything left behind before opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue.    "All clean, my what a good girl you are." You can't help but preen a bit under the praise. There's something about hearing the words from Tae that make the (honestly almost unbearable) taste worth it. "But it's not fair, I'm almost completely undressed, and you're still in all of your clothes." His words come out whiney as he tries to grab the hem of your shirt, but you're quicker than him. You scooch your way out of the pillow fort, ignoring his whines of protests.    "Come on Tae, you promised that you'd do whatever it is that I ask." You glance behind you to see Taehyung behind you, a deviant smirk plastered to his face as he tugs his pants back up.    "Well, my queen, I'm hoping that your wish is for me to eat you out like a five-course meal."    "No, but nice try. No no, I'd like something far less sexual, sorry to burst your bubble." You wrap your hands around his neck, fingers curling into the soft hair at his nape. "I'd like for you to take me shopping."    "What?"    "Shopping, I want to go shopping with you. More specifically I'd like to go out on a date with you. I think it would be fun to pick out some clothes with you. Oh, but I suppose I should tack on that I'd like to go to the new exhibit at the museum with you too if you have the time this month. It's not a permanent collection so I suppose that might have to take priority if you can manage the time."    "You...you could have me do anything and you choose a date? I thought for sure you'd have me sit there and beg for you or something, or literally kiss your ass, or make me do something really embarrassing. But you...choose a date?" His shoulders are shaking with poorly contained laughter before he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. "Just when I think I've got you all figured out you pull something like this. You're a weird one, you know that?"    "Well at first I thought about making you beg, in fact, that was my original goal. But the plan changed a long time ago. I realized I didn't want to make you beg, I would never want to hear something like that forced out of you. I want to hear that you want me because you want me, not for any other reason. So then I started thinking about what I really wanted, and I realized that even though it's selfish and even though you can't technically go out on dates or be seen in public with me I'd still really like to go out on a date with you. I understand though if it's not really possible." You say the last words quietly as you reflect back on your contract and the firm words from management. Dating and scandals were absolutely not allowed, and while you wanted nothing more to be with Tae you also understood the precarious place dating would put him in.    "Hey, don't worry about it. We can definitely go on a date. I can wear like a fake beard or something."    "What?"    "Ooh, or maybe I'll learn how to do some special effects makeup and turn myself into an old man. With a big beard." Tae is talking animatedly, his hands smoothing down his imaginary beard.    "No fake beard, please."    "Why not, I thought girls like beards."    "Yes well I don't. Especially not fake ones. That's just weird. But I'm sure we'll figure something...less...abstract out." You watch his gaze flicker back down to you, his fingers tracing over your jaw before dipping lower until they finally grip at the soft flesh of your ass.    "Well, I suppose that we can figure it out some other time. I don't have enough time for a date tonight, I still have to be back for practice in a couple of hours. But that does leave me with enough time to continue where we left off. What do you say?" His breath is warm on your neck and the fire that had begun to calm down is roaring back. That familiar ache, the need to finally be one with him begins driving all action again. You try leading him to the bedroom, but his hands pull your hips back flush to him. "Always so impatient. Let me take my time with you."         His tongue trails slowly down your neck, over the prominent vein before he nips down slightly on your collarbone. Each movement is slow, precise, and it already has you wanting more. You're not normally so greedy, you usually enjoy dragging things out more. But Taehyung is masterful at this slow, erotic torture and it's quickly becoming too much for you. Each touch to your skin tingles and burns, his hands lazily roaming and groping has your hips rutting into his. "Tae, don't be a fucking tease."    "Oh please, you've spent enough time torturing me let me have some fun." His eyes lock onto yours before he finally strips your shirt off of you before his mouth latches onto a nipple. His tongue swirls around the bud before he's tugging it in between his teeth with enough force to have you cry out. His mouth twitches into a grin at your moan and suddenly he's off of your breast and picking you up. He doesn't, however, take you down the hall into your bedroom as you initially guessed. No, instead he's leading you into the kitchen and placing you on the counter. He just gives a small chuckle at your cocked eyebrow before explaining. "Listen, this might sound ridiculous to you but I've always wanted to have sex in a kitchen but considering that I live in the dorm or I'm always in hotels I don't exactly get that chance often. Also, I really want to fuck you in a bathtub while we're on the subject. Honestly just about every surface of this apartment, but the kitchen is a good place to start. Don't you think?"    Before you can respond his hands drag your ass to the edge of the counter and his mouth is on your thighs. Each wet kiss, each small nip, closer to your clothed and dripping core has you shaking with want. "Tae, please. Please, come on baby, please." You're not sure if it's the begging, or the use of the pet name, or just his own desires that finally cause him to peel away your panties but you really don't care. You just care that you're finally getting relief.    "God, look at you. You're dripping all over the counter. What a pretty fucking pussy, and it smells so sweet." He licks one long stripe over your folds before clamping down on your throbbing clit. Before you can even react he has two fingers slipping into you, strangled moans bubbling out at the dual sensations. With each loud suck on your clit, his fingers prod deeper inside you, scissoring and stretching in all the right ways. You can feel that familiar coil tighten and lurch at his ministrations. Each time his tongue brushes against you, each time his fingers prod in just the right spot, you can feel yourself start to unravel. You want to tell him how good it feels, how amazing he is, but words get lost in your throaty moans. "You're going to cum already? You gonna cum all over my fingers? Come on (y/n), cum for me." That's all it takes to have you finally fall into your orgasm. Thighs clenching, abdomen tightening, toes curling. Faintly you know you're screaming his name loudly, but you're too far gone in bliss to fully register that it's you who's making those noises.    By the time your opening your eyes back up he's finally pulled away from you. His mouth is still shining with your release and you can't help but groan at the sight of him slowly fisting his leaking cock. His mouth is on yours in an instant, both of you groaning at the taste of both your orgasms. Your hips jut into his, the desire to feel filled by him is starting to drive you into a frenzy. You need to feel him, one orgasm isn't enough. Never really has been for you, but especially not when it's finally with Tae. "Tae, come on, please fuck me."    The way he groans low and sweet has you clenching around nothing and desire trickling out of you once again. You watch, entirely entranced, as he finally enters. You're well prepped enough that there's no burn, just sweet sweet satisfaction. His head rested in the crook of your neck, peppering small kisses along the vein as he stayed still before slowly pulling back out. His hands wrap your thighs around his waist before he starts moving rhythmically. Each movement is harsher, faster than the last. Each thrust has both of you groaning at the sensation. You can feel him everywhere, so utterly full as he prods away at the right spot that has nerves on fire.    "God, you're so fucking tight. And wet, holy shit. Can I...can I feed from you?" You can't help but moan at his words again. He looks so perfect, almost like a sculpture has come to life. The sweat is making his hair cling to his face, casting a glow to his tan skin. "You have to say yes, I'm not taking a moan for an answer."    "Yes, please Tae." At the green light, he nuzzled back into your neck, his tongue snaking along the pulsing vein before his fangs sunk in. There's something about the mix of pain and pleasure that almost feels like a high each time. Sinful, dirty, perfect. And it has you tumbling into another orgasm around him. Clenching, moaning, milking Tae to finally come to his own. His tongue laps up the last of the blood, seeling away the bite as his hips begin to rut sloppily through his own completion. He stays lodged inside as he starts to soften and presses a few soft kisses on your lips. You feel not just satisfied, but somewhere into a place of warm and fuzzy bliss.    "You know, it was worth the wait." He sighs at the sound of his phone going off and grimaces as he finally pulls out to look at his phone. "I have to leave now so I won't be late to practice. Can I...come back over tomorrow? I don't have the day off, but I do have a break in the afternoon."    "Of course, just text me when you're on your way over. Don't push yourself too hard."    Tae gives a boxy grin as he pulls on his clothes before weaving his fingers into your hair and pulling you into a heated kiss. "As much as I love seeing you naked, you should probably put on some clothes so you don't catch a cold. I'll see you tomorrow, my queen."    You watch him leave silently, a smile plastered to your face. You certainly weren't expecting for this to happen when you took on the job. You weren't expecting these blossoming feelings of love to take over when you started to first tease Tae. But the world works in mysterious ways, and you couldn't be happier with the results.

[whenrockwasyoung19]

Time to address Ariana Grande’s friggin tan. So back in like 2014 there was a post showing Ariana in the first season of Victorious where she was looking all pale and shit. And they compared that to pictures of Ariana now with her tan. Essentially people equate Ariana tanning with cultural appropriation but I would argue there’s more to it than that.

So let’s address a few things. Ariana is white. She is not a person of color according to today’s standards. At one point in time she would’ve been considered ethnically ambiguous as all Southern and Eastern Europeans were. So the fact that she sort of is ethnically ambiguous has this loaded history behind it.

Also, Italian Americans can be ethnically ambiguous just innately. For instance, the surname Grande kinda sounds like it could be Italian or Spanish. The distinction isn’t really clear. The languages are similar (very very similar). I swear every time I see that Emilia Clark Dolce and Gabana ad I think she’s speaking Spanish. There are these subtle crossovers that can make it hard to distinguish who belongs to what camp. There is also the issue of skin tone. Italian features vary a lot. Some can be blonde and blue eyed. Others are olive skinned with brown hair and brown eyes. Some are mixture with fairer skin and brown hair and eyes.

It seems that naturally Ariana falls into that category. I wouldn’t say she’s pale. Like if you’ve seen videos on her old YouTube channel you’ll notice she’s got a slight tan. She also naturally has dark brown hair. She’s sort of the average Italian who doesn’t really look like the standard Sicilian but still looks very Italian. So she already has a very Italian look and whatever ethnically ambiguous qualities that come with that are innate. The tan came later, but we’ll get to that.

So for Italians who look more olive skinned, it can be easy to be perceived as Latine. I can personally vouch for this as after returning from summer vacation (and after spending my days outside, I naturally got very very tan) I would occasionally be told I looked Latina. Some would even assume it. And notably, I didn’t try to look this way. The summer sun just does that to my skin. So it’s not an effort on my part to look more Hispanic. And for those who naturally have darker, olive skinned may look ethnically ambiguous.

From this point on, I can really only refer to Italian Americans as I’m not from Italy. I don’t know much about their beauty standards.

Do y’all remember Jersey Shore? The original run in like 09? I do. I was in high school at the time (because I’m ancient). And I also grew up in New Jersey. So, I was around a lot of girls trying to be like Snooki. Girls wore the bump. They wore bright prints. And they tanned. Oh they tanned. I knew a lot of girls who made frequent trips to the tanning beds. And whenever school dances came up, spray tans were suddenly everywhere. There was an obsession with tanning. And Ariana is basically just like those girls I went to school with: obsessed with tanning.

This is a common beauty standard for Italian Americans. I don’t know the precise history behind these beauty standards. But I’ll make an educated guess. Sicilians are like the ideal Italians (in terms of beauty). They seem to capture all the Italian features. Their skin is darker, they have beautiful brown hair, amber eyes; and if you go off of American television, they’ve got curves. I personally take great pride in my Sicilian heritage (even tho I’m only part Sicilian and only kinda look it).

Sicilian beauty standards are also idealized on television. The women Tony Soprano often slept with were often Sicilian. On Everybody loves Raymond, Robert abandoned his plain Jane blonde girlfriend for a voluptuous Sicilian woman he met on holiday. In The Godfather, when Al Pacino is in Italy he practically forgets all about poor Diane Keaton and marries a beautiful Italian woman. In this case, unlike the other examples, Apollonia doesn’t speak much English. Their attraction is merely physical. In all of these cases, the somewhat plain blonde is seen as kinda of conventional but boring. The Sicilian is the attractive one drawing the man away from his woman. In other words, Sicilians are portrayed as this ideal beauty. Sicilian beauty types are similar to Latina beauty types as well which is where I think a lot of the confusion lies. Latina women have darker skin (sometimes very similar in tone) and dark hair. So when all the Italian American girls in my school were trying to look like more Sicilian, it can be perceived as looking more Latina. In my community, no one would mix that up. We know that pale skin is far from ideal. If you can look like you just got off a plane from the Bahamas, you’re looking good. And obviously have slightly tanner skin is popular in general. Self-tanner and bronzer are incorporated into a lot of beauty gurus makeup routine. The fact that someone wants to look a little tanner is not really shocking. But like I said, I can see where the mixup is. Ariana is basically just emulating a Sicilian beauty standard as many Italian Americans do. It can be misconstrued that Ariana is reflecting a Latina look but that’s not the case. But then we get into some phrasing issues. So I hear people say things like Ariana darkens her skin. Ok. Technically yeah. But that’s what tanning is. That’s what applying bronzer is. In reality, such acts are neutral. But the phrasing is definitely off. It does sound like Ariana regularly applies like brown polish to her skin. That’s not what she or other girls who tan do. If you use a tanning bed, it’s your skin naturally reacting to UV light. It’s no different than when I spend a summer riding my bike in shorts, and by August my thighs are very tanned. For girls who spray tan, you can throw a little shade at because it’s not their natural skin. But it’s also aspiring to a Caucasian beauty standard. So is it a cultural appropriation if it’s white people appropriating other white people stuff? Eh I don’t know. My point is the act of tanning really isn’t like problematic in and of itself. And framing it to be problematic by using carefully chosen language is perfidious and wrong. It creates a culture of shame around Ariana which isn’t fair to her or her fans. In era where cultural appropriation is a mortal sin, it’s unfair to accuse someone of that without really understanding the complexities of this situation. Being Italian American has complexity especially in terms of beauty and there is a deeper history there. If you think her music or singing is cultural appropriation, I’m not going to argue that point. But please stop saying that Ariana is tan, therefore she’s appropriating latine culture, therefore she’s cancelled.

[adventuresloane]

Lup, Raven Queen, Barry, Ango and totally Ren. ;) maybe sloane also! For the HC meme❤️

(for this meme)

Kat this is……SO many oh my lord. I’m gonna put most of theseunder a cut!!!  You’re a doll tho thanksfor all the asks.

Lup:

A) What I think realistically: I love the idea that,contrary to popular belief, she’s the younger twin! When they were kids, Taakowould always be the one who had to get her out of the trouble she got herselfinto. Taako’s always been a bit more pragmatic, but Lup just couldn’t standdisrespect towards her or her brother and would always address it. She stood upto people and probably bit off more than she could chew a number of times,meaning Taako had to help her out of a tight spot.

B) What is fucking hilarious to me: Lup at one point had apretty major crisis in her life because she loves to cook for people anddesperately wanted to show her affection for Barry by cooking for him, but.This man has lived off late-night hot pockets out of his laboratory microwavefor years. He doesn’t have a palette. One time she overheard him call ketchupspicy and she just kind of stared at the wall for five minutes. She spent manyan evening slaving over recipe books to try to find SOMETHING decent that thisuncultured man would actually enjoy.

C) What is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict onfriends: She’s got…a number of lingering issues after her release from theumbrella. There’s a lot of talk about how she develops claustrophobia, andwhile I think that’s certainly true, I think another thing that leaves hershaken is the utter darkness inside the staff. Before she was able to get herpowers back to create fire, the darkness in there must have been absolute andchilling. Imagine how long she lay there entirely blind and unable to make outanything. I don’t think she can sleep with the lights off anymore. She alwaysat least leaves the hall light on outside the bedroom, but even that’s notenough much of the time, and she often plays with a little fireball in herhands until she can’t keep her eyes open anymore, so that she knows there’sstill light where she is.

D) What would never work with canon but the canon is shit soI believe it anyway: Griffin says that the Legato performance was the firsttime the rest of the IPRE crew realized that Barry and Lup were in love butcome the fuck on. These guys??? They’re so incredibly obvious and crazy foreach other. Even if they didn’t tell their family explicitly EVERYONE knew forYEARS.

Raven Queen

A) Every raven in Faerun is at her beck and call. The birdshave a bit of magic to them inherently and find it easy to slip from plane toplane. She’ll dispatch them to carry messages or keep an eye on things for herand report back. She VERY rarely comes to the mortal planes, but you can alwaystell when she’s on her way. Thousands of ravens circle together tightly in thesky, their iridescent wings shining, and from the almost blinding andotherworldly shimmer a portal forms through which she comes.

B) Has motherly instincts towards Kravitz but no concept ofwhat being a parent to a former mortal actually entails. At what age does onestop picking up mortal children? 35? Her idea of mother-son bonding is enactinga blood oath. She’s trying her best.

C) Kravitz became her “ward” of sorts when he begged andprayed to her for months on end to spare his sick mother and take his lifeinstead—he made a brave trade and she respected him for it, hence his positionas a reaper.

D) She grants Magnus a “limited” amount of extra time livinghappily with Julia in the afterlife but honestly do you think she’ll ever makethem stop living in that little cabin? Heck, do you really think she’s going tokeep their friends from leaving the sea of souls to visit them whenever???She’s willing to turn a blind eye to their little party for the rest ofeternity.

Barry

A) He is just……so visibly huggable tbh. You look at him andyou’re like, “That’s a man who’d be good to just hug for a little while. Chubbysoft belly. Just a teddy bear of a man.

B) The boy is a classic academic research scientist, whichis to say a damn mess. He’ll periodically crop his hair short but then won’tbother to get it cut again for months on end because he’s too busy, so it growsout all wild and looks a mess. He has one (1) mug he keeps on his desk and likenever washes because it’s always filled with coffee anyway. Shows up to work ina stained T-shirt because it’s not like anyone’s paying attention to him whenhe’s locked up in his lab all day anyway. Grody science man.

C) Next to Taako, he’s the one who takes the longest toforgive Lucretia, and I sort of think he never completely gets over what shedid. Unlike everyone else in the IPRE crew, he was deliberately isolated fromthe rest of his family AND HE WAS AWARE OF IT. That’s fucked up, and he learnedto hate Lucretia for awhile, and that’s not the kind of thing that can beerased as soon as Story & Song is over. He can barely look her in the eyefor awhile.

D) He does NOT have a mullet do not to my boy dirty likethis.

Angus

A) All this debate over Magnus or Taako or Lucretia orwhoever the fuck adopts Angus post-S&S? Screw that noise. It’s not like anyof the adult figures in his life AREN’T walking disasters as individuals—it’sonly together that they’re sort of capable of functioning. That’s why he haslike twenty parents and splits his time between like five different houses,inside each of which he has his own room and where he is welcome at all hoursof the day and night. That kid is living the dream.

B) Absolutely drops f-bombs on purpose knowing that it willscandalize the adults he talks to. This boy is a delight and has never doneanything wrong but he is NOT the innocent little one everyone thinks! Sneakyboy!

C) Gotta be honest, I don’t have the heart to actuallyimagine Angus having any suffering inflicted upon him, BUT I do like the ideaof Taako being lowkey terrified every time he goes off on his own/tries toconduct an investigation that has a chance of being dangerous. He tries not toshow it and definitely plays it cool when Angus comes back safe every time, buthe’s got so very few people he feels really connected to and he doesn’t want tolose one of them (again).

D) Controversial, but he remains a shrimpy nerdboy foreverand does not get to be buffer than Magnus sorry.

Ren

A) Hot take: she’s a soft butch. My evidence? I know a bunchof butches named Ren and also she just gives off those Lesbian Vibes. Butch Ren2k19.

B) She is…small. Just so short, even by the standards ofelves, which are on average smaller than humans. It might be partly because she’sa Drow, since I personally headcanon that they don’t grow quite as big, buteven then she’s just. A little creacher. She has to use a spoon to knock downthings from shelves that everyone else in the tavern can easily reach. Cassidyjokingly uses her head as an armrest.

C) Her family is definitely still around and definitely wereoutside of Refuge when the barrier was created around the town and they justhad no way whatsoever of contacting her. They aged while time didn’t touch her.

D) This is more in opposition to D&D lore than to theTAZ canon, but I personally don’t like to think that Ren ever faced anyprejudice for being a dark elf. The whole idea of the Drow being cursed and 99%of them being evil is, imo, very tired (not to mention racist), so I just don’twant that being a part of her story. I think maybe Underdark elves have a bitof a reputation in the surface realms for being kind of staid and dour, so inthat way Ren defies some conventions by being her bubbly self. But aside fromthat, she never had an issue with anyone thinking less of her or hating her forbeing a Drow.

And fuck it, I know I did Sloane already but I have gothbirb headcanons coming out of my ass so I’ll do her again.

A) Tbh I like to think that her alias is something she put alot of thought into and something she identifies really strongly with. Like,ravens are obviously just objectively cool and fit the goth aesthetic she’sgoing for, but also I think growing up in Goldcliff (which I picture as beingjust like the American Southwest) she had a lot of experience observing themand felt kind of a kinship with them (and probably fed them to get them tofollow her around tbh). In some folklore, ravens are considered shapeshifterson account of how the sun reflects off their wings and makes them look likethey’re changing shape. I think that by assuming the persona of the Raven, shebecomes something more than what she appears to be, and it’s a bit of escapismfor her. (Also, ravens are known to be family-oriented and mate for life sothat proves fitting later on…)

B) It kinda breaks my heart whenever people draw her (orhalf-elves in general) with shorter/smaller ears than full-blooded elves,because in my head hers are long and twitchy! She’s pretty good at hiding howshe feels and not giving away too much with her body language, so her ears don’tnecessarily move around a ton to express how she’s feeling, but they doinvoluntarily react to sound, e.g. perking up when she hears a sudden noise.Hurley finds this adorable and exploits it to no end—like snapping her fingersnext to one of Sloane’s ears and then the other to make them pique alternatelyuntil Sloane finally gets fed up.

C) This is kind of more of a headcanon for half-elves ingeneral, but I remember seeing a post awhile back that said something along thelines of “D&D cryptid: a half-elf with a good relationship with theirfamily.” It was funny, but it did get me thinking: what’s a good narrativejustification for this? One of the answers, I think, is that half-elves grow ata rate that must be completely bewildering for their elven parents. They reachmaturity at around 20, compared to a full-blooded elf becoming an adult ataround 100. There’s probably a lot of potential for friction there as elvenparents are unable to handle or understand their kids as they mature soquickly. Plus, most half-elves don’t outlive their elf parents, and knowing you’remore than likely going to bury your kid one day has got to be hard. I think allof this was sort of the situation for Sloane growing up, and it was the sourceof a lot of the isolation she felt as a child.

D) She has big biker energy and actually prefers motorcyclesto battlewagons and that’s the tea.

LAWD this was a lot. Hope you like them!!!

[spacecreatorart]

I just watched Spiderman: Homecoming and

I FUCKING LOVED IT

I didn’t get to see it on big screen (my cinema is smol and doesn’t put most of good films, rip Deadpool) I just got to watch it today and it was freaking. Good. I had such a bad day today and it lifted my spirits, made me jump, cry and scream. It was perfect and if you want to know why, let me tell you under the cut. And warning, I have a lot to say.

Also yeah, I’m going to draw a fanart of The Vulture. Because honestly.

This part is “no major spoilers”. There will be also few of my thoughts below with BiG SpoileRS but I’ll give you a warning, don’t worry.

Okay. So. Here are my thoughts.

Spiderman: Homecoming is the best Spiderman movie out of three existing major series at this moment. I’m sure you already heard that, but this film portrays Peter Parker finally in a accurate way. Dorky, “uncool” intelligent guy with a good heart that never shuts up. Tobey Maguire was way too quiet and Andrew Garfield... made this character look like an asshole. I mean it’s the writing’s fault but you get me. Tom Holland is perfect. I’m so glad they actually got a teenager to play a... teenager. His school crush, being the unpopular nerd kid, having nerd friend, it all looked so natural. Even Flash doesn’t get the role of a “I’ll make you hang on your underwear” bully, he is still a bully but in a more reliable way. (unless you really got this kind of treatment in school, in that case I’m sorry.)

Also I love the world building. The stuff that happened in previous movies had an impact on civilians life and we got to see that from the other side. Cleaning up after aliens attack in New York, leftovers from Ultron bots in Sokovia getting in hands of non-federals? Avengers being basically celebrities, Cap being used for making educational movies for kids in schools. I loved it all.

This is a major spoilers part. So even if you are chill with getting some spoilers here and there before watching a film, if you haven’t seen it yet I BEG YOU DON’T READ THE REST. REALLY. IT’S WORTH EXPLORING IT FOR YOURSELF.

Okay then, hello fellow people who also watched this film, how are you.

SO HEAR ME OUT ON THE VULTURE

He is so fresh of a villain. We got really great major villains in few last Marvel movies. (Hela was so aesthetically pleasing, Ultron had a soft spot. It was really subtle and seen in a way he interacted with twins and Black Widow. Ego was great too, tho I was really confused about his great evil plan)  And Vulture is just so human. Yea, he is a villain. We see him shrugging off the fact that he killed a man and caring about the stuff he wants to get instead of worrying that a plane will crash INTO BUILDINGS???

But he also has a strong reasoning behind his decisions. He build the organisation (company? whatever) himself and kept it running, which wasn’t easy. And all of it he did for his family and his workers who also had families. I can totally see his point and thought process that had taken him where he was.

He also has some morals! He made his decisions, most of them were terrible, but he has his priorities straight. He could try to kill Peter the second time after the plane crash, but he was too desperate to get the deliver. And the scene after the end credits when he refused to give up his identity? Because Peter saved his and his daughter’s life? Yes. Thank you. Every other Spiderman movie villain would go straight for the kill and revenge.

And his design is amazing. I’m a fucker for (metal!) wings and pilot jackets.

Peter’s relationship with Tony Stark? People were right. Tony is Peter’s dad. he even makes a joke about it like three times in the movie. 10/10 would dad and son again. I love how Tony just accepted Peter’s decision at the end to give up being an Avenger. Like no big deal, yeah, I designed this brand new suit for you with great care and amount of detail, but you don’t want it yet and that’s absolutely okay. (Btw I am amazed how Tony Stark can make those designs and projects having only 24 hours per day)

Time to talk about the scene that ended my life :).

The one taken from the early issiues of Spiderman comics, where he is trapped under the roof that was dropped on him. The scene in the movie hit me so hard. I did not see this amount of angst coming in an otherwise light hearted movie like this. It got sooo heavy from the big twist point (the villain - hero talk in the car was the best scene in the whole film probably) and this one was a fucking catharsis.

Peter screaming and crying for help, because at that moment he was just a 15 y/o trapped under  huge blocks of concrete, panicing because he was about to die and there was noone who could possibly help him. There was no Iron Man Ex Machina this time. And when he realised that, and realised that he still is a spiderman, even if not in his suit and with sheer force of will ge got out from under the rubble, it was so powerful. I was crying. Do not do this to my son ever again (I didn’t watched the Infinity War yet and fromwhat I heard, I will cry)

OKAY SO I THINK THATS ALL. JESUS I TALK A LOT. SORRY NOT SORRY. I JUST LOVE THIS FILM AND I LIKE TALKING ABOUT THE STUFF THAT EXCITE ME. OKAY BYE.

[deal-right]

Rules: Answer 21 questions then tag 21 people who you want to get to know better. ((I’ll be skipping that rule >w>””))

@ambereddragonfire tagged me <3

1. Nickname: Isa c: Also a Friend of mine calls me France, that’s a funny story.

2. Zodiac: Scorpio! I don’t believe in the zodiac but it’s fun reading posts about it (and seeing how awfully wrong they’re with me sahfjklsaf but welp x’D)

*edit 3. I didn’t paste this but I’m 1.73 cm!

4. Last movie I watched: Spiderman a new universe :D (for the second time, it’s so cool aaa)

5. Last thing I googled: Iberia, because I want to take a plane but I don’t know when I’ll be able to aaaa

6. Favorite musician: Halsey!<3 

7. Song stuck in my head: This cover of Amorfoda (it’s in Spanish tho, sorry y’all)

8. Other blogs: @dealdraws and @pruebasdeofertas (I use the second one as a draft folder of the sorts. I usually use it when I want to send someone a bunch of images in a row, it’s easier to just have them in a post).

9. Do I get asks: Not usually, but there’s some nice anons that send asks from time to time (even if I don’t have much time to draw those requests I love you all). I also get some when I do those ask memes or, from time to time, I got these asks

from my gf. Whenever she got one she sent them to me and I think it’s the cutest thing <3 (I have saved all of them, just saying ;) ).

10. Blogs following: 251

11. Amount of sleep: Not enough it seems because I’m getting very sick lately ashfjklsaf I try to keep it around 8 hours, but it’s usually either 6~7 or 9~10.

12. Lucky number: I... don’t think I have any? I used to really like 2, but I guess now I’d preffer either 2 or 5. 

13. What I’m wearing: Pajama pants, a long sleeved shirt and a thick black coat. Perfect and very normal clothes to be home with yep.

14. Dream job: Designing stuff that’d help people in their day to day lifes but... I don’t see me being able to achieve it right now. We’ll see.

15. Dream trip: Right now the only trip I can think of is flying to my gf’s house <3 but there’s 2 trips I’d love to do: Traveling with my fam again to some cool place full of nature, just chilling and having a good time, and traveling to Japan someday. The second one is a bit more impossible, at least right now, but we’ll see.

16. Favorite food: Croquetas please and thank you. I also love the meat rolls my mom does for christmass, and italian food in general <3

17. Play any instruments: Nope, sadly. 

18. Languages: Spanish, English and... I guess I know a bit of French but not much. (also does understanding some dialogues in anime count as knowing Japanese? No? Okay c’:)

19. Favorite songs: Gasoline, Te merece la pena, the whole Hamilton album... I can’t pick only one c’:

20. Random fact: I’ve been drawing my friends’ ocs as th i c c (aka: shirtless and with unhuman muscles) and I can’t stop now, there’s no saving me now.

21. Describe yourself as aesthetic things: Aaaaa.... Ibuprofen, soft blankets and many art stuff? And Kh and ut logos.

Won’t be tagging anyone, sorry! But if you’re following me and feel like doing this please feel free to do it.