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free-pool-trash · 4 years ago

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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.”

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #teen wolf x reader #folklore i.l #derek hale x reader

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serfuzzypushover · 5 years ago

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White Baron

A/N: So eh- Hero!Flug au huh? I wrote this a while ago and forgot about it- I'm working on the next chapter rn so yay qwq There're probably going to be around 7-10 chapters of dis- Anyway- The story is about Flug, who still goes by Kenning, during his time as a hero in training with his brother Goldheart uwu. Hope y'all enjoy! QwQ

Chapter 1

"Well? Do you like it?" The older brother asked. Kenning gave a small smile. "It's great.." Today was his first day training as a hero. He admitted, he was a bit nervous. It was always his brothers goal to become a hero, but as for him, he just wanted to be a pilot. All these hero/villain stuff never seemed that appealing to him. As much as their parents made it out to be at least. Goldheart, Kennings brother, was already at the end of his training and was now a full time hero, while he was just starting out. "I'm glad you do!" He heard him say.

The 16 year old looked around at his new room. Nothing special. Just a room with a bed, a desk and a door leading up to a bathroom he assumed. 'At least it has windows..' Kenning thought. "I'll let you get settled in and remember to be in the flying district around 3." Goldheart ruffled his brothers dyed brown hair. "H-hey!" Kenning complained. Goldheart just chuckled and got out of the dorm.

Kenning sighed and got straight to 'fixing' this place. He covered his bed with some blue airplane bedsheets and got rid of the old pillow, replacing it with his own. The desk was soon covered in metallic parts and wires, straight out of Flugs backpack. He set his toolbox right next to it, and placed his books, most of which were about planes, on one side of the desk. He put up motivational posters on the walls and even set a sitting pillow on the desk chair. And last but not least he placed in a family photo. He remembered taking that picture with his parents and brother. He had just defeated a villain and the whole city was cheering for him. He left the picture down and looked around his improved room.

The boy admired his job and checked the time. "I've got an hour or two to spare.." He told himself and flopped to bed. He was too tired at this point and since he had time, a nap didn't sound like a bad idea. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

He woke up a bit later than he wanted but still made it on time for the session. He sat down on the grass like the rest of the heroes in training and waited. They all wore black jumpsuits with strings of color at the sides. Kenning was yellow and so were of two other students. One of them was a tall woman. She had large dark wings, a bit darker than her skin and what seemed to be demon horns and a tail. The other was a smaller male, a bit shorter than himself. Nothing was too special about him it seemed. He had his hair in a bun and had light skin. They seemed to be talking and Kenning approached them.

"Um.. Hello! We eh.. We seem to be in the same team, huh?" He asked anxiously. "Yep! Yellow Team for the win!" The girl said excitedly. "I'm Ursula! And this is Shaun." She introduced herself and the boy next to her. "Hey! I know you!" Shaun stated. "M-me?" Kenning asked, confused. "Yeah! You're Goldhearts brother, right?" Kennings shoulders shank. "Oh.." He let out disappointed. "Y-yeah that's me..." "Wow! I can't believe we have Goldhearts brother on our team!" Ursula said. "If you are anything like your brother then we are going to be the greatest team here!!" Kenning tried to smile at them. "What kind of powers do you have?" "O-oh.. w-well uh- Oh hey look! That must be our teacher!" Kenning said as he saw a man approach them.

'That was close..' He thought as everyone was starting to form a line. He stood between his teammates as the man started talking to them. About the basis of flying and that its one of the most difficult powers to control. Then he told everyone to show of what they can do. Each one of them started flying either with wings or with powers. Until it came Flugs turn. He reached out for his backpack and after securing it to his chest he pressed a button, making airplane wings pop out of the sides and the bottom of the backpack to open, revealing a turbine underneath. He was about to take off when the teacher stopped him.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" He asked his with his arms crossed. "U-uh.. taking off?" He asked nervously. Did he do something wrong? "I can see that! But this is a 'hero' academy! Not jetpack school! If that were the case we'd take everyone in!" He sighed in annoyance, placing his hand on his head. "What your name?" At this point everyone was staring at them."E-er.. K-kenning Slys sir.." He stumbled out. Before the teacher could react a figure landed next to them. "Is there a problem Teach?" The looked up.

"Goldheart Slys.." The teacher started. "I assume you know mister Kenning over here?" He pointed at the young man standing nervously next to them. He landed and the rest of the hero noobies were now surrounding the hero. "That's my brother you're referring to, yes." Goldheart simply said. "And I don't see him using his own resources to help him keep up with the rest of the class, a problem." Kenning tensed. Was he TRYING to embarrass him?! "Goldie it's oka-" He trying to get him to stop. "So what if he doesn't have powers? He's great at other stuff!" "GOLDHEART!" Kenning basically shouted at him and looked around in fear as everyone else was whispering at eachother. His eyes were starting to water as his body trembled. "Kenny? Is something wrong?" He heard his brother ask and reach out to him. He shot himself away from him and started running back to his dorm, trying his best not to hit anyone with his open wings on his way there. He heard his name being called but he kept running. Once he reached his room he shut the door and locked it. His tears finally fell down his face. He curled up in his bed, hugging his pillow. He decided to skip the rest of the sessions for today. And he cried himself to sleep.

Kenning woke a few hours later at the sound of a door knock. He dragged himself up and unlocked it. It was his brother. "Heeey Kenny.." "What." He replied while glaring at him. "I.." Goldheart started. "I'm sorry.. I was trying to help-" "Oh shut up! Will you ever stop making these stupid excuses?!" Kenning yelled at him. "I'm not 4 anymore! I know when you're lying!" "Kenny-" "Stop. Calling me. That!" He clenched his fists. "It's just like every other time! It's always the fucking same!" "Please don't swear-" "Doesn't matter if we are with mom and dad or in front of a whole class!" Hot tears rolled in Kennings cheeks. "You just want me to be miserable, don't ya!?" Goldheart didn't answer as the door was closed with a slam in front of him.

Kenning grabbed his bag and started packing his things. Even if he managed to get Goldheart off his chest he was humiliated already, why would he want to stay? After he was done with all his stuff inside the backpack he hesitantly opened the door. His brother was nowhere on sight. He headed for the exit, not talking to anyone he passed. After he was out he activated his backpack and flew off.

He headed back to the city and after half an hour, landed right outside his house. He hesitated. No. He wasn't going inside. Why would he bother if he was just going to get yelled at. He clenched his fist and walked away from the house. He didn't know where he was heading but he kept moving forward. "Ugh.." He let out. "Why is he such a showoff!?" He asked himself while kicking a tree to ease off his anger. He mumbled some curses and sat down on a bench. The sky was turning dark but Kenning thought he might as well just stay here. He lifted his legs onto the bench and hugged them tightly. From the corner of his eye he saw slight movement coming from his backpack. He shot up his head and saw more moving. He hesitantly reached out for it and was startled when a cat jumped out from behind it right in front of him. "O-oh.." He laughed a bit. "So it was you who scared me huh?" He asked the feline as it meowed back with a purr in its voice. It curled up to his legs and relaxed on his lap. "Aww!" Kenning couldn't help but say. He started petting the cat. This day wasn't turning out that bad after all.

The cat then looked straight at him. It's deep orange eyes looked at him in fear, but the cats body was relaxed. Kenning moved his hand. "E-eh.." The cats face started slit in half and hundred of insects made their way out of its skull. The boy screamed and tried to drop the cat- no- that thing out of his lap. It was at the floor now and Kenning couldn't help but place his hand over his mouth to not throw up. The incests started forming a figure. The boy looked in fear at the man that was now taking form in front of him. He had dark blue skin and wore a suit. Kenning could see a cane in his hands and a black hat covering his head.

#villainous #villanos #dr flug #flug #dr kenning flugslys #white baron #hero flug au #Antons writing

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ecotone99 · 4 years ago

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[NF]

oops. forgot to give this the right title.

"My first experience of flying"

After finishing high school joining the air force was my first, and only, choice.s an image or feeling, if it's too vague, or wordy.

Any feedback at all is appreciated.

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I've always wanted to be a pilot. When my family got our first computer, when I was 11, I some how wound up with a joy stick and a copy of 'F-16 Multi-role Fighter' that I would play for hours on end.

After finishing highschool joining the air force was my first, and only, choice.

To become accepted as a pilot in Australia, you need to attend flight screening. You, and a handful of other hopefuls, are given seat time in a light aircraft for assessment. To get an edge I was directed to flying lessons, then, after tabulating my single digit bank account as a 17 year old with no job, I looked into gliding lessons which were substantially cheaper.

My parent were very supportive, offering to pay for my lessons, and drive me the hour and a half to a rural airstrip outside of Byron Bay, the iconic tourist town on the east-most tip of Australia, for my first lesson.

My parents and I arrived at the rural airfield, a bare patch of flat grass with a small hangar wedged in the 2km wide band between the M1 highway and the South Pacific; All three quiet at 6 in the morning.

We were on time, but the only vehicle in sight. Gingerly, we entered the only building, unlocked, we found it empty. My parents called the sleepy booking agent who apologized, but was unable to contact our instructor who was also, apparently, asleep.

A replacement was arranged, and 10 minutes later a burbling, sun-baked station wagon bounced happily up the dirt driveway. The driver emerged. He was a middle aged man with bags under his oakley covered eyes, haggard clothes and stale alcohol on his breath. He seemed an easy going man as he fumbled the mechanism to open the hangar. As the large tin doors slid apart, a long white wing with a tiny cockpit at its centre was revealed. I could feel the butterflies start. It had an engine, albeit a small one, and the instructor explained how we would use it to climb before turning it off. I vividly remember him wiping dishsoap along the wing tips to 'help reduce drag'. I nodded as if I knew exactly what he was talking about.

With only his own strength, he rolled out the aircraft, pointed it in the direction of the runway, and hopped inside. My parents, skeptical, but supportive, took a photo with me before I left. No turning back now.

As we taxied around the instructor made small talk. As much small talk as you can at 645am, hungover, with someone 25 years your junior. Which is to say basically nothing. Though he did explain to me the dual controls of the glider, showing me everything I needed to use - the stick in front of me, and the two pedals at my feet. No other instruction was given.

The little engine that could puttered us down the damp grass runway toward the slowly busying highway. It felt like we weren't going at all fast enough, but by some miracle the thing left the earth and we meandered over the traffic, climbing gently into brightening morning sky.

There's some indescribable feeling of seeing the way in which things are placed in the world. Roads and town form in the natural geography. Houses slowly radiate from the coast, only to shunt the rising mountains to our west and stop. Individual clusters of rain become traffic in the sky, covering an area of ground with a water like soft UFOs tractor beam. When you're on the ground, you can only see so far, in the air, the world becomes much smaller. I was in awe as we climbed higher and higher, forgetting that I was going to fly and just taking in the experience as a passenger.

At that moment the engine was shut off. The drone of the engine subsided, replaced by rain droplets gently tapping the plastic. As we bounced in the turbulent air I became quite aware of just how high we'd gotten. The creaks of the joins of the aged glider fully awakening me to the reality that my feet were separated from the ground by just a few centimeters of fiberglass, and a thousand feet of cool sea breeze.

My instructor gave me control. He took his hands of the stick and told me to "fly around". With such a small aircraft you feel everything. A glider is the plane equivalent of a go kart. Every jitter in the wing, every stronger-than-normal gust of wind flutters the stick just so, and when you hit a pocket of low pressure air the glider drops but leaves your stomach behind.

I had played flight simulators before, so with absolutely no direction from my paid instructor, I gently banked the glider in sweeping arcs, surveying the glorious New South Wales north coast. To my right the hinterland rose up, relics of a volcanic range and an active fault line that had calmed down probably millions of years ago. To my left the eastern most point of Australia. The brilliantly white Byron Bay lighthouse sat on the tip of exposed rock, gingerly extending into the vast Pacific. A beacon surrounded by local surfers disgruntled with the rising house prices and the influx of inner city pretenders seeking their summer break.

After around 30 minutes of flying, with one or two climbs with the engine turned back on, my instructor had had enough, "Alright lets head back in. It's right over there." he pointed. Over there being several hundred feet down, and approximately directly over my left shoulder. At this point I expected the instructor to take over, but he did not. Thinking this was an acceptable thing to ask a complete novice, and not about to admit my total lack of experience, I took a wide extended loop to drop altitude without picking up too much speed. If you drop too quickly and you're going too fast, you'll over shoot the runway, and have to come back again. If you are going too slow, well, the trees at the start of the runway will catch you.

As we came around over the ocean I could see the trees rapidly approaching. Surely the instructor will take over I thought. I glanced over and he seemed quite calm, focused on the trees ahead, his hands resting on the stick. I gave the stick a gentle pull. The weight seemed exactly the same as when I was flying earlier, and the gliders nose rose gently to match. I put it back down.

As we came over the trees, now about 150 feet above them, I expected the instructor to take over. But as I furtively glanced across again, he seemed unphased. I watched the gentle variation of tree heights pass by me on either side while the airfield grew rapidly in front of us. We were traveling quite slowly now. I had pitched the nose ever so slightly up to maintain altitude but drop speed. We had the engine, but I feared it wouldn't start in time, or wasn't powerful enough to pull us up before we became a birds nest. The instructor seemed blissful with the current state of things.

At 50 feet above the trees, I gave another quick glance across, and again the instructors hands were loosely formed around the stick. Surely I wasn't still in control.

At 20 feet above the trees, and 30 from the end, I look across to the instructor who was peering over the nose, keeping sight of the last tree tops. I gently lift the nose even more, slowing us further but carrying us above the uppermost branches. As we cleared the last trees, by what I hope was a safe margin, the glider had lost so much speed it sank gently towards the ground. I looked across. The instructor was still, his eyes fixed forward and relaxed. I was disturbed, but confused, 'Surely he should take over, but he's the expert, I can't tell him what to do.' I didn't want him to think I wasn't capable to fly. As we came within 10 ft of the ground, I lifted the nose once more, holding it just above what I think was level. The back wheels touched solid ground and the front wheel dropped with a little more force than I liked.

As we rolled, the instructor turned on the engine and taxied us back to my waiting parents. He says to me, casually, without looking, "How many times have you been out?" I reply that, "This was my first time. I've never flown before." From beside him I can see his eyes go wide under his sunglasses. He stiffens and holds his breath for a moment. "Good job." He says as cooly as you can manage after a definite pause.

I was a mix of seething confusion under the surface. I get out of the plane and thank the man. On the drive home I explain everything to my parents. We did not go back.

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