#yeah when other people speak spanish i can fumble my way through understanding

[thechangeling]

The Fall

This is a one shot I wrote about my OC Gianna Blackthorn-Rosales, one of Kierarktina's kids. Full disclosure, I don't have bipolar, but I do suffer from depression and I did some research to fill in the blanks. Thank you to Halima and Ellie from helping me with the Spanish.

Tw for Depression and suicidal thoughts.

When Gianna woke up, she felt as though she was under water. Her limbs were heavy as if they were weighted down with led. Her alarm was blaring from her phone with zero sympathy. Gianna groaned and fumbled around for her phone to turn it off.

Shit. She felt like absolute garbage. Everything hurt. Everything felt hallow and empty like a great big hole had been carved out of her chest. Mornings were never fun, but today especially sucked. The idea of moving to get up, or even keeping her eyes open felt like absolute torture.

Gigi had recently come down from a manic episode and now she was sinking, unable to stay afloat. Not that she even really wanted to. Not right now at least.

That's when she remembered. Today was test day. Of fucking course. Testing day was when every shadowhunter under 18 had to undergo a series of skill tests, with weapons and also hand to hand combat. They were given scores based on how well they did and then those scores then were sent back to the Clave.

Of course it had to be today of all days. That was the problem with mental illness. It didn't care if you had a schedule to keep or things you needed to do. It just bulldozed it's way through your life, screwing everything up and then leaving you to clean up the mess.

Gianna grabbed her phone and typed out a quick message to her brother Nico.

I'm sick today, tell mama I can't do it.

Her therapist would tell her that avoidance wasn't healthy, but she would argue that sleeping right now was definitely the best thing for her. Unfortunately in fights such as these, the professionals usually won.

Gianna felt guilt and shame start to trickle in, greeting her like old friends. You're pathetic. You're a pitiful excuse for a shadowhunter. That's what everyone else is thinking and they're right. You're worthless. Everyone would be better of if you were gone.

Her phone vibrated next to her with a text from Nico. Gianna picked it up, already knowing what it would say.

Shadowhunters don't get sick. No one will buy it. Come on Gigi you need to try. He wrote.

Gianna fought the urge to scream. Try? Like she wasn't trying? Did they all think she was pulling this crap on purpose for shits and giggles? She was really getting sick of most people.

She was sick of her parents, sick of her siblings, sick of her cousins Ellie and Anthony even though they didn't get to see each other very often.

She was even sick of Anabla. Which made Gianna very scared. She loved her girlfriend but sometimes everything just became too overwhelming. Her father was always busy running his kingdom and whenever she went to Unseelie, many people always made it very clear that she was not welcome. Her father didn't even really understand how mental illness worked, but then again neither did her mama and papa.

Shadowhunters weren't supposed to be sick and neither were faeries.

Suddenly there was a banging on her door. "Gianna!" She heard her mother's voice on the other side of the door "¿Qué esta pasando?"

Gianna shut her eyes. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep her mama would leave her alone. It was unlikely but still. Her mother pounded on the door again. "Alleya!" She shouted angrily.

Well fuck. That was never good. As soon as her mother used Gianna's fae name, it meant that she was in big trouble.

"Ok yeah I'm coming!" She yelled back. Gianna took a deep breath and pulled herself to her feet.

I can do this. She thought to herself. It's gonna be ok. Just get though this then you can go back to bed.

She put on her gear and began to braid her hair into a faerie style. It was a personal tradition of Gianna's, to braid her hair like a faerie and pull it back so that her pointy ears were exposed whenever she had an offical shadowhunter event of some kind.

Outside she could hear the sounds of Shadowhunters arriving at The New York Institute by portal. Gianna and her family had slept over at the institute so they wouldn't have to travel. She could instantly hear the cheerful loud voices of her cousins, as well as her aunts and uncles greeting each other.

One big happy family.

Gianna could feel the aches in her muscles as if she was sore from a good work out. Getting through testing would be absolute hell.

But she would do it. She grabbed her bow from it's hook on her bedroom wall as well as her quiver of arrows, and marched outside to meet her fate.

The wave of liveliness hit Gianna like a truck. There were older shadowhunters gossiping and catching up with one another, while teenagers and kids of all ages darted excitedly around each other gathering their weapons and gear. She noticed her mama and papa talking with her tías, Helen and Aline. Nico was being bombarded by hugs from their tìo Jules and tìa Emma. Even though they were all on her papa's side of the family, her mama had no siblings. In fact she didnt have any family she was in constant contact with since they were all in Mexico. So at her mama's request, Gianna called all of her papa's siblings tía or tío as a way to keep her connected to her culture.

As for her father's side of the family, it was basically just a long string of "these people want me dead", so nobody was getting any names of any kind.

Then there was Kit and Ty, who Gianna called by their first names because they were so close. She had always felt better connected to them for some reason.

Speaking of.

She spotted them over by the corner if the room. Ty had his headphones on and Kit was hugging-

Oh great.

She was here.

Mina freaking Carstairs.

Wonderful.

Which begged the question, what was she doing here exactly? She was 18. She was supposed to be done with these sorts of tests.

Gianna watched as perfect Mina rushed over to great a screaming Ellie, who was her Parabatai, and Anthony and that was when it dawned on her. Right. Of course.

Mina had come to watch them.

The perfect supportive friend and Parabatai. Always smiling. Always ever so sweet and polite.

Yeah Gianna really wasn't a fan.

Nico would tell her that she was being irrational, and she probably was. But Mina Carstairs had always looked down on her with that familiar expression of pity and disgust.

It might have had something to do with the time Gianna had tried to steal Church during one of her manic episodes. Or the time when she woke Mina and Ellie up by blasting heavy metal at three in the morning while making brownies at the LA institute.

In her defense, she couldn't sleep.

Gianna knew lots of people always assumed she was doing these things on purpose. Like she was purposefully trying to sabotage everything in her life. That was probably one of the most irritating things about having a mental illness, being blamed for the things that you had no control over.

Being held to neurotypical standards was also shitty.

"You look like you're about keel over and die on us" said a voice at her shoulder.

Gianna whipped around and breathed a sigh of relief.

Magnus.

Gianna couldn't quite managed a smile, but she instantly flung her arms around him in a hug which he returned.

"Hey there little shadowfae" he cooed. It was the nickname he had for her ever since she was a kid. "Are you taking your meds?" He asked her with his head still resting on her shoulder.

Gianna groaned, lightly pushing him away. "Why can't you just greet me like a normal person? What ever happened to, "How are you?" Or, "What great weather we've been having lately!" She rolled her eyes.

Magnus looked sympathetic as he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sorry Gigi. I'm just worried about you." He said softly.

Magnys was essentially the one who had jumpstarted her treatment, the same way he did with Thaís. He contacted Caterina, who contacted a doctor with the sight to get Gianna diagnosed, on medication and into counseling.

Her therapist was actually half Unseelie, half mundane. She was fairly sweet, and she and Gianna got along pretty well. It could have been a lot worse.

Gianna nodded, "Yeah I know. I am." She protested.

That was mostly true, although there was one week when she had gone to Unseelie to visit Anabla and forgotten to bring her meds with her. She was paying for that now.

"Everyone! Could I have your attention please!" They were interrupted by the voice of the consul. Alec Lightwood-Bane was standing in the middle of the room. Several members of the council were standing with him. "We will begin testing in five minutes! If all of the perticipents could please make their way down to the institute's training room. Thank you."

Magnus caught Alec's eye and smiled at him from across the room. He then sighed and squeezed Gianna's shoulder again. "Well. I should go join my husband" he said matter of factly. "Good luck little one."

Gianna managed a small smile. "Thanks Mags."

Gianna stood in place for awhile, willing herself to move. People passed by around her like waves moving around a bolder. No one played her a second glance, not her cousins, and certainly not Mina Carstairs. Her parents were probably busy with Nico.

The living room filtered out and then she was alone. Standing in the middle of the room with a bow in her hand.

See. The voice told her. You're all alone. You're always alone. No one really cares about you.

She tried to protest, tried to fight it but she was just too tired. And there was that old familiar feeling again. A feeling beyond exhaustion, beyond despair, and beyond hopelessness.

Inevitability.

The feeling that at the end of the day this is all that you are, and all you ever will be.

And there's nothing that can change that.

#tsc #tda #twp #kierarktina #kierarktina children #my oc #kaitlin'swriting

[reyescarlos]

sanctuary || a tarlos fic

chapter 2/3 read on ao3

It’s been one month since TK packed up his life and headed to Austin for a fresh start. In a new city, he struggles with between defeating old demons and reinventing himself. On a night when he feels close to falling through the cracks, he meets Officer Carlos Reyes, a man who could very well be his salvation.

Two days of casual texting since running into Carlos earlier in the week has led TK to trying out what Carlos promises to be the best meal he’ll ever have. It’s a pretty tall order but TK is more than willing to test out Carlos’ theory. After all, it means actual face to face time with the man he’s quite eager to know better.

Carlos steps up to the truck and begins talking with the staff in Spanish, conversing and placing their orders. TK’s understanding of the language goes as far as twelfth grade and even still, he barely remembers much aside from the basics. He’s only able to piece together a few bits here and there. Regardless, it doesn’t take much for him to see that Carlos is truly a regular at this truck and that the staff genuinely likes him. That doesn’t come as a surprise to TK. Carlos is kindhearted and people like that tend to draw in others like the sun.

As they wait for their order, TK takes in the area around him, the sights, the sounds, and of course the smells. His stomach is practically doing flips and growling the longer he stands around breathing in the delicious smells of meat and peppers and whatever else is being made inside each neighboring truck.

“Come here often?” he muses, using the cheesy pickup line to kick off conversation.

Carlos laughs and nods. “Yeah, it’s my absolute favorite in all of Travis County. It might actually be better than my tía Lucy’s. But if you ever tell her I said that, I will have no other choice but to lie and say I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

TK mimes zipping his lips, tossing away the imaginary key for good measure. “Your secret’s safe with me, I promise.”

Carlos is about to speak when one of the ladies inside the truck calls his name. He turns and heads back to the truck, thanking her and taking the food she hands over. TK spots an empty bench and hurries over to it, taking a seat, Carlos sitting right across from him a few seconds later.

“God, this smells amazing,” TK notes, unwrapping his burrito from its foil and taking a considerable bite. He stifles a moan but doesn’t shy away from tossing his head back. “Holy shit, that’s incredible.”

Carlos laughs at the theatrics. “Like I said, hands down the best in town.”

“I definitely have to come back here soon. Is tomorrow too sudden?” he jokes.

They fall into a comfortable silence as they eat. Every now and then he looks over at Carlos and on some instances, he finds the other man glancing at him too.

“So, what is that you do?” Carlos asks conversationally after a time.

TK licks his lips, pulling in the lower one. It’s a harmless question, in general, but for TK it’s actually a loaded one. When making the move down to Austin, he also made the tough decision not to hop back into work. The time for himself is certainly needed but it makes him anxious thinking about having to explain why he isn’t currently part of the 126.

“I’m a firefighter. Or I was. I’m taking a bit of a break right now,” he finally settles on. It’s a half truth as he hasn’t fully explained but the last thing he wants is to unload all his drama on a man he’s only just met a few days ago.

Carlos considers his words and nods, dipping one of his chips into salsa. TK prepares himself for an onslaught of follow-up questions but they never come. Instead, Carlos gives a response he wasn’t expecting at all.

“I can understand that,” he says, popping the chip into his mouth and making quick work of finishing it off before he speaks again. “What we do isn’t easy. Sometimes you need to take time to recharge before heading back out there again. In order to really help others, we have to be at our best.”

TK can only stare at him. He was so sure Carlos was going to hound him with questions about what prompted the break but instead he opted not to pry at all. TK wasn’t used to that sort of thing. Most people would make it their personal mission to find out the details but not Carlos. Relief soon washes over TK.

“Yeah, definitely. I plan on getting back into the swing of things soon, though. Until then, I just live vicariously through my dad. He’s the new captain over at the 126. Whenever I’m ready, I’ll be working alongside him.”

A part of TK is chomping at the bit to get back to his old routine but he knows he still needs a bit more time to feel as if he’s standing on solid, stable ground again.

“Wait, seriously? My best friend is the EMS captain there.”

“Michelle Blake? No way, I’ve met her a few times. She seems pretty great.”

Carlos nods enthusiastically and laughs. “Damn, maybe you’re right and this town really is too small,” he muses, TK not missing the reference back to their conversation outside the boba shop.

“See? Six degrees of separation is too high of a count for this place.”

Carlos tosses a chip at him but TK is fast and swats it down to the table.

“Jerk. Is that any way to treat your new friend? You wouldn’t want to go giving me the wrong impression of your precious Austin, now would you?”

Carlos makes a face and it’s undoubtedly one of the cutest things TK has ever seen.

“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”

“Oh, man,” TK laughs, “you have no idea.”

~*~*~

At lunch, TK finds himself incapable of looking away from his screen. He and Carlos have been chatting since morning with Carlos sending him updates and random pictures of odd things he sees while out shopping with his aunt Lucy. TK has seen everything from ridiculous items for sale at a thrift store to Carlos frowning in a chair with Lucy’s purse on his lap, reflected in the store’s mirror while his aunt is in the changing room. This most recent image is instantly followed with a text reading “SOS!”

TK grins at his phone, zooming in on Carlos’ face. The furrowed brows, the pleading brown eyes, the pout. It’s almost too much for him to handle.

“Earth to TK. Are you with me here, bud?” Owen says.

TK snaps his head upward, finally tearing his eyes away from his phone. “What’s that now?”

Owen shakes his head and laughs, lightly kicking at his leg. “My god, where is your head today?”

TK smiles bashfully and shakes his head. “Right here on my shoulders.”

“Could have fooled me. I could have sworn I saw it floating in the clouds. What’s going on with you?”

TK opens his mouth to speak but closes it back, shifting in his seat to turn to face his father. Try as he might, TK cannot erase the wide smile that breaks across his lips the second he looks at him, his thoughts already filling up so deeply with images of Carlos’ face. A part of him feels silly for being this caught up with someone he’s just befriended but he and Carlos have spoken every day for the last two weeks. Carlos is truly his first and last thought each day. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all in one breath just how much they’ve grown close to each other. It leaves TK’s head spinning.

“You met someone, didn’t you?” Owen says, his grin mirroring his son’s perfectly.

“Wow, you beat me to it.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t exactly a hard guess to make. Tell me all about him.”

TK draws in a deep breath to collect himself. “His name is Carlos and he is…kind of unreal,” he laughs. He can feel his cheeks warming up. “I don’t know. We talk all the time and it’s just…nice? Normal. It’s good to have a friend in this city.”

“A friend, hmm.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Owen holds up his hands, letting out a playful laugh. “Nothing, nothing. Friends are great to have but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this worked up over one before.”

“Yeah, well, Carlos is a special friend. It’s different with him.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” his father says, lifting his brows.

“Seriously, it’s not like that. At least it can’t be right now.”

Owen’s smile fades from his face as he looks at his son and TK can feel a sinking sensation in his chest. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a less than platonic pull towards Carlos but the man knew nothing of his last relationship and the major impact it had on him. There were still so many secrets, ugly truths that TK hadn’t shared yet and was, truthfully, terrified to ever do so. Things with Carlos were light and carefree. For someone like TK who had been living so long with a darkness in him, he wanted to preserve this kind of joy for as long as possible. He thought perhaps it made him selfish to a certain degree but he couldn’t help it. For the first time in over a month, he felt weightless. A feeling like that was too rare and he was in no position to pass it up.

“Why do you say that?”

TK scoffs and shakes his head. “Come on, dad. We both know why we’re down here in the first place. Look at what happened the last time I fell hard for someone.”

“But look at how far you’ve come since then,” his father counters. “Look, you may have a real chance at something great here, whatever it may be. It’s been over a month now, TK. I think it’s time you start taking some wins. You’ve more than earned them. I haven’t seen you this happy in ages.”

TK swallows the lump in his throat, the guilt that rises like bile. His life and actions didn’t only have consequences he had to face. While he knew his father didn’t hold it against him, TK couldn’t help but to feel responsible for them upending their lives and moving away from home.

“I don’t want to wreck this. Carlos is a good guy. Genuinely good, you know? I don’t want to mess that up or put anything bad on him. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Owen searches his face but TK can’t bear it and looks away, back to his plate.

“Tell me about him. How’d you two even meet?”

TK hesitates, fumbling with his fork and turning it over in his hand. He still hasn’t mentioned his panic attack out on the bridge that night. After all, he’d returned home in a better mood than when he left and had been fine in the weeks since so it didn’t seem like something worth mentioning or making his father concerned over. But now, being asked so plainly about how he met Carlos, it feels like something he needs to disclose. TK was skilled at hiding things but he made a vow to himself on the plane ride from JFK to Austin-Bergstrom Airport that he’d truly turn over a new leaf and maintain transparency with his father going forward.

He licks his lips and clears his throat before speaking, avoiding his father’s gaze until he finally speaks.

“When I went out running a few weeks back, I sort of…had a moment. My head was kinda all over the place and I needed a break.”

Owen shifts in his seat, his eyes glued on his son. It was such a bittersweet thing having a father that cared so much at times. On one hand, TK was comforted in knowing that his dad was always willing to listen but on the other, it made him dread his father hearing all the less than pleasant things he had to say from time to time.

“What do you mean?”

TK sets his fork down. “I don’t know. I was thinking a lot about Alex and it just got to feel like too much so I stopped out on the bridge to get myself together.”

“TK—”

“God, no! Not like that. Sorry.” TK sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “It just so happened that I stopped there. I swear, dad. Anyway, clearly it looked troubling because Carlos was on duty and he came up to me to make sure everything was alright. He got called away to an active B&E and I thought that was the last time I’d see him. But literally the next day, after group, we bumped into each other downtown and exchanged numbers.”

Owen settles back against his seat, his fingers splayed on the dining room table. TK watches the parade of emotions that flit across his father’s face from fear to uncertainty to controlled hurt.

“I should have told you more about that night,” TK admits. “I just didn’t want you to worry. I’m so tired of making you worry.”

Owen places a hand on TK’s shoulder and gives it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Whether you tell me everything or not, I’m always going to worry. That just comes with the gig of being a dad. But what makes it easier is if we’re on the same page at all times.”

TK meets his father’s gaze and nods, worrying his bottom lip. Owen sighs softly and drops his hand, trading a concerned look for a warm smile.

“So, Carlos is a cop. What an interesting first responder pair you guys make,” he teases.

TK is glad for the joke as it alleviates some of the tension in his chest. He laughs and rolls his eyes.

“It’s crazy; what are the odds, right?”

Something warm glints in his father’s eyes and TK is almost moved to tears because of it. He can admit he’s been particularly hard on himself over the last month and a half, so convinced that he shouldn’t even allow himself to move on from Alex. He feared he wasn’t ready and that he couldn’t be trusted. But already, in such a short time, he was willing to give a part of himself to Carlos. He didn’t stand much of a chance, in truth. He couldn’t imagine a single person who wouldn’t be disarmed by the other man.

Owen searches his face for a moment as TK focuses back on their conversation.

“Looks like the tide’s starting to turn for you down here in Austin; things are really picking up. Maybe meeting Carlos is just the thing to make you more comfortable.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he parrots. I hope, he thinks.

~*~*~

The next day TK is in his room folding laundry when his phone lights up on his bed. TK cranes his neck to read the text from Carlos.

Hey, you busy tonight?

TK puts down the shirt in his hand and grabs his phone to reply, seeing that Carlos is already typing out another message to him. He waits for it to come in.

If you are, feel free to ignore me. I know it’s kind of short notice to be making plans.

TK can only roll his eyes to this. How many times and how many ways does he have to show Carlos he has nothing else going on in the Austin? And even if he did, Carlos would always be the better option; any plans he may have had could easily be tossed to the backburner.

Ah, yes, let me check my oh so busy schedule. Please hold.

A few seconds later he sends:

Hmm, sitting around the house doing nothing. Online shopping. Scrolling through social media right before bed...yeah, sorry. Booked solid for the evening, I’m afraid

He takes a moment to appreciate his own humor before his phone is vibrating with an incoming call from Carlos.

“How may I help you?” he greets.

“Do you make it your mission every day to be a pain in the neck?” Carlos’ voice is so light and teasing it makes TK’s heart clench in his chest. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to the way they complement each other so perfectly.

“We all have special skills in life. One of mine just happens to be pushing your buttons, what can I say?”

Carlos groans and sighs. “What have I gotten myself into?” There’s no bite to it. If anything, TK can practically see the smile he knows is painted on Carlos’ lips right now.

“I told you there was no going back. So, what’s going on tonight?”

“Ah, right. I thought we could hang out and I could take you to one of my favorite bars downtown.”

TK’s shoulders stiffen at the mention of a bar. He hasn’t stepped foot in one in what feels like forever. He knows he isn’t obligated to drink and that Carlos probably wouldn’t even notice or care if he didn’t indulge. It’s just been easier to eliminate the temptation by steering clear altogether. But a Friday night out with Carlos isn’t something he can shy away from, especially not when Carlos sounds excited to share something special to him.

“Yeah, I could go for that,” he replies.

“Yeah? Great. I’ll text you the address and we could meet up around 9 or so. I hope you’re ready for some dancing.”

“Is this going to be a hoedown? A real, genuine Texan hoedown?”

Carlos’ laugh is strong and clear. TK feels like patting himself on the back for job well done. His favorite thing these last two weeks has been making that sound come about. It does something to his heart to know that Carlos is happy, mainly because of him.

“Yup. I’m looking forward to seeing your moves, New York.”

“I won’t disappoint. I can promise you that much.”

“I never had a doubt.”

TK opens his mouth to reply but can’t. His heart is racing and all he can picture is the two of them out on the dance floor, moving together. It’s an image that lays down roots in his mind and grows so large it’s all he can see.

“Damn, I have to get back to work but I’ll see you tonight, alright?” Carlos says, bringing TK back to the present moment. “I’ll send you the address in just a minute. See ya.”

The call ends before TK can even get a word out but he figures that’s for the best. Carlos has managed to stun him into silence, a feat not many people are capable of.

So maybe his budding friendship is proving to have more weight to it than he wants it to. All the telltale signs of a crush are there, regardless of if TK is ready for them to be or not. It’s not as if he had much of a choice, he reasons. Right from the start Carlos caught his eye and every day that they’ve spoken since has only served to strengthen that. The other man would make such offhanded remarks but TK had to wonder if Carlos was even aware or if it just came by so naturally that he truly didn’t notice. TK wasn’t sure which he preferred.

If Carlos wasn’t being intentional in his flirting, then they were truly just friends and he could be okay with that. Simply having someone to talk to so frequently that wasn’t related to him was a major win. But if there was some sort of hidden code behind his words, TK was almost nervous about uncovering it. In a life post-Alex, he hadn’t been prepared for the possibility of meeting someone he could actually see himself with. But maybe he was alone in thinking there was even something here. And that, TK knew above anything else, was the worst conclusion of all.

~*~*~

“I don’t know what I was expecting but this wasn’t it,” TK says as he and Carlos enter the bar.

“Maybe you’ve seen too many movies? It’s clouding your judgement.” Carlos bumps his shoulder lightly against TK’s arm.

“You might have a point there.”

It’s a lively night and the place is comfortably filled with people already out on the dance floor, moving along to the music being played by a live band in the corner. TK stays close to Carlos’ side even though the place isn’t that crowded and they aren’t likely to get separated. But Carlos doesn’t seem bothered by their proximity. He merely throws a warm smile over his shoulder at him as he leads them to the bar and TK does his best not to melt right there on the spot.

“What are you drinking?” Carlos asks, holding up his fingers to signal the bartender.

“I’m good with mineral water for now,” he replies casually, his eyes fixed on Carlos to see his reaction but the man simply nods and orders for them when the bartender comes over, opening a tab.

If there’s one thing TK has been learning about Carlos these last few weeks is that he doesn’t push in the way virtually everyone else he knows would have. TK appreciates that more than he’ll probably ever be able to express to Carlos.

He takes the glass Carlos hands him, slick with condensation and thanks him. TK is unable to pull his eyes away from Carlos’ mouth as it takes a sip from his beer bottle, his throat going a little dry. He soothes it with a swig of his mineral water and averts his gaze and instead focuses on something safer like the crowd of people dancing. The music becomes a bit more folky and the footwork a bit more intricate but TK is fairly confident he can follow along easily enough.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Carlos says, forcing TK to glance back at him.

“What? About me dancing? Pfft, I can hold my own out there.”

Carlos eyes him from top to bottom and back again. It’s such a simple move and yet it makes TK’s skin tingle to be held in his gaze. Not for the first time since meeting Carlos, he wonders what the man thinks when he looks at him. Smugly, he hopes Carlos feels the energy between them too. Surely, he does, TK reasons. There was nothing casual about that look just now.

“Alright, let’s see it then.” Carlos downs the rest of his beer and sets it down on the bar. TK follows suit, finishing off his drink in kind.

He isn’t expecting Carlos to reach for his hand but he gives it up willingly, feeling warmth course through him that has absolutely nothing to do with being surrounded by people. Carlos leads them right to the center of the dance floor, a large smile on his face. He doesn’t waste a single second in falling into line with everyone else. TK does his best, trying hard not to look at his feet. That’d be a dead giveaway that line dancing is kind of a foreign concept to him. He manages well enough after a few seconds.

“There you go,” Carlos encourages.

TK can’t take his eyes off him. There’s something just so alluring about watching Carlos move freely, completely at ease and assured in his movements.

They keep dancing for a while, TK relaxing into it and matching Carlos beat for beat. The music eventually changes to something slower, couples remaining on the dancefloor and settling in close to each other. TK looks around at everyone before glancing to Carlos who gives him a questioning look. TK gives a small smile, silent confirmation that he doesn’t mind having this dance with Carlos. He keeps his eyes on Carlos’ face, trying to decipher the expression in them. It’s like he can see it all in real time, Carlos making the decision to try for something a little more. The man brings his face closer but TK stiffens in his hold and takes a step back.

“I think I’m gonna get some air. Just a sec,” he says, pursing his lips and walking off.

He’s cursing himself for panicking and being a coward. The most frustrating thing is knowing that had he been in a different place mentally, he absolutely would have followed through on kissing Carlos. He’s spent a fair bit of time over the last two weeks picturing what that would feel like. Here it was now the opportunity was presenting itself and TK’s initial reaction was to run.

He stands outside of the bar, leaning against the building with his eyes closed, replaying the exchange over and over.

“Do you just want to get out of here?” he hears Carlos say. When he opens his eyes, Carlos is standing right in front of him, his face unreadable. “We could go for a drive, if that’s alright with you.”

TK pulls in a breath and nods. What he wants to do is apologize a million times and let Carlos know that none of this is his fault. Carlos is truly perfect, almost scarily so as far as TK is concerned. He can barely take the shift in Carlos’ mood. Not even five minutes ago the man was smiling brightly. Now he looked unsure and uneasy, all because of TK. If he could have even a minute to explain, TK would be grateful. A car ride with just the two of them was ideal.

Carlos nods too and leads the way over to his car, the two of them climbing inside. Neither of them says a word as Carlos brings the car to life and begins to drive. TK knows he should be the one to break the silence but his thoughts are a riot in his mind and nothing makes sense. Every time he starts to form a sentence in his head, the words don’t sound right. Carlos keeps driving, eventually coming up to an empty area.

He stops the car and looks over at TK. In his eyes is fear and concern, so much so that TK feels guilty, already able to see that Carlos blames himself for the awkwardness earlier. It’s so incorrect and misdirected but Carlos is already speaking before TK can even dispel the man’s thoughts.

“I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Carlos’ chest rises and falls heavily. TK isn’t used to seeing him uneasy and it doesn’t sit well.

“God, Carlos, no. You didn’t—I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

TK sighs and tilts his head back against his seat. The silence in the car presses down on his ears but he needs a few seconds to get his thoughts in order.

“The whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing completely applies here, as cliché as it is,” he starts out, turning his head to look at Carlos.

Carlos’ expression is so serious, like he’s truly giving his full attention over to TK, like he sincerely wants to understand what he’s thinking or how he can help. The level of kindness and sincerity Carlos has shown him since day one is unparalleled and given how his last relationship ended, TK is in awe of the fact that someone is willing to extend this generosity to him.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet. In time, I really do want to share it with you because I think you could be good for me. Knowing you has already been good for me and you don’t even realize it.”

TK swallows thickly before pressing on. Carlos remains perfectly still, searching his face. TK can’t help the fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach. This man owes him nothing and yet here he is, willing to hear him out.

“I was a bit of a mess back home. I was in a pretty serious relationship that sort of blew up in my face and I just…I couldn’t stay in the city anymore. My dad got offered the job down here and the timing…it seemed like the univere’s way of giving me something of a clean slate. I’m not where I want to be exactly but I’m working on it.”

He stops short then, his breathing shaky. This was more than he thought he’d share with Carlos this early on and while it feels scary to admit to such heavy things, it’s also freeing. Carlos may be new to his life but every instinct of TK’s is telling him that he can trust this man beside him.

Carlos finally moves, reaching out and holding onto TK’s hand. He doesn’t lace their fingers or anything, just simply holds on to it, as if reminding TK that there’s someone here with him. TK’s eyes start to sting with unshed tears.

“Thank you for telling me,” Carlos says. “I know it couldn’t have been easy. We don’t…I’m just happy to be your friend, honest. We don’t have to make something of this. Seriously, just knowing you is enough.”

Despite his best efforts to stop them, TK can feel traitorous tears running down his cheeks but he can’t find it within himself to be embarrassed over it. Being around Carlos is like existing in a judgement free zone. With his free hand, he wipes at his face and Carlos gives him a soft smile. The sight alone is like a balm over TK’s hurt.

Carlos leans forward, resting his forehead against TK’s. It’s such a tender expression that TK’s breath hitches and his heart skips a beat.

“You’re going to be okay,” Carlos says softly, confidently as if he has some crystal ball that can predict this.

Either way, TK gladly takes the assurance as a fact, clinging to that promise like a life raft in a heavy storm.

#tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #tk x carlos #911 lone star #sulkybbarnes #rafasilvas #bighimboenergy #brillliantbanshee #sunshinestrand #tiniestmite #kimmy writes

[mnthpprt]

Chapter 6: Seeing Red

I change into the nightgown that was laid out for me. Though long and modest, the sleeves are sheer enough for my tattoos to be clearly visible. The one on my collarbone, previously hidden by a turtleneck, is now peaking above the neckline. There’s another thing I did not think about. I thoughtfully bite my lip as I examine them in the mirror. I can even make out the small details through the fabric.

After giving some thought to how on Earth I could cover them up if I ever went into town, I decide to put my hair up like I usually do before bed to avoid it from tangling. I rummage through the vanity until I find a dense brush. Running it through my hair, which I then collect into a long braid, offers some sense of normalcy in all this chaos. 

I feel much better now, I think. Calmer. Now that I have stopped freaking out, I can finally deal with whatever is thrown at me. I take a deep breath as I stare at myself in the ornate mirror. It’s only a month, I tell myself. You have traveled for longer than that. When the door opens again, will I reappear in the Louvre at the same point in time that I left? Or will a month have passed in the present, too?

I think back to my job. The internship at the Pompidou. The finished thesis I am meant to send to my advisor in two weeks. 126 years and two weeks. My dear friend Mila, who so graciously lent me her apartment in Montparnasse while she was away, and who I was supposed to meet tomorrow at the airport. What will she do if I am not there? 

Shaking my head, I force myself to think of something else. No point worrying about a problem with no solution. Instead, I pull out my thesis notes from the backpack and re-read them, over and over again. My scrambled brain can’t focus. How am I supposed to research things that have not been discovered yet? I put them away and turn my attention back to my phone, to the mind numbing games that help me pass the time whenever I am stuck in an airplane with no wifi.

After about an hour of boredom, pacing the room, and snapping some pictures of the now new old city outside my window, I give up on trying. Pulling my sweater over my head, I blindly slip my bare feet into the pair of chunky sneakers on the floor. I need a glass of water. I need something, anything, to get rid of this restlessness.

As I make my way to the kitchen - which I remember being pointed out to me near the dining room - I catch a glimpse of my shadow on the wallpaper. The mismatched garments from different centuries cut an odd silhouette against the lamplight. I sigh with relief when I manage to reach my destination without getting lost in this maze of a mansion.

“Hey,” I lazily greet Sebastian, who I find scrubbing a large pot over the sink. I smile at the perfect excuse to keep me from spiralling. “Wow, you’re working late. Need a hand?”

“Thanks.” He returns the smile. “The banquet has me quite busy, so your help is  appreciated. Could you please take that to sir Isaac for me?” He points with a soapy hand at a silver tray on the table, only holding a small sandwich and a bottle of... something.

“That’s not wine.” It comes across as a statement rather than a question. The liquid in the bottle is dark red, but much too thick and opaque to be any drink I know. As Sebastian gives me directions to Isaac’s bedroom, I lift the cap and smell the content. “Ugh, is this blood?!” I exclaim, taken aback by the metallic odor. Instead of answering, Sebastian turns to give me a surprised look.

“Did le Comte not explain?” Explain what? Before I can ask, his expression becomes stern. “Never mind. Just deliver it quickly, please. It’s urgent.”

“Okay...” I carry the tray through the hallway, afraid to ask more questions, or rather, afraid of the butler’s temper. He clearly runs this place like clockwork, and my arrival has thrown off his schedule enough for him to be washing dishes at this ungodly hour.

I knock on the door with one hand as I balance the tray on the other. Inside, I can hear someone get up and practically run to the door.

“Gods, finally! Oh... it’s you...” Isaac’s face changes when he looks down at me, breathing with difficulty.

“Sebastian sent me,” I explain, showing him the tray. Quick as lightning, he snatches the bottle and, to my horror, gulps down the dark liquid inside it. “What the-?” Before the disgust reaches my face, I am pulled by the neck of my sweater and into the room. I scream as the tray falls to the ground, and I feel the broken glass of the bottle becoming embedded under my shoes.

“I... need... more...” Isaac pants. Despite his troubled breathing and slim frame, his strength is too much for me to fight. “It’s not... enough...” Pinned against the wall, I scream for help as Isaac fumbles with my turtleneck, struggling to pull the collar down. Is he going to kill me? What is happening?

Just as I close my eyes, bracing for the worst, two people barge into the room. I hear a raspy voice tell Isaac to stop, and to my surprise, he does. I only open my eyes when he is no longer touching me, only to see Sebastian and a man I have not met before. Must be another resident. I remain trembling, my back glued to the wall, and find myself hyperventilating along with Isaac, who is now wide eyed and has tears on his cheeks. He falls to his knees and begins to frantically apologize in between sobs. This is the first time he looks at me, and it is in horror at his own actions.

The next few minutes are a blur. Sebastian rushes out of the room and reappears with another bottle of blood. I think it’s blood. While he feeds it to a crying Isaac, along with the sandwich from the floor, the other man abandons his side and comes to my help.

“Are you alright, cara mia?” I automatically nod and let him put his arm around my shoulders as he ushers me out of the room. His firm hold is the only thing that stops me from collapsing, but my legs miraculously move along with him. I suddenly realize I haven’t blinked since I opened my eyes after Isaac attacked me. They sting. I force myself to blink repeatedly to get rid of the feeling, but every time I do, all I see is Isaac’s mouth near my face, blood dripping from his chin. I also see fangs. He had fangs. For fuck’s sake, he had fangs.

We finally make it back to the kitchen, where he pulls out a chair and gently makes me sit on it. I look up at him.

“¿Qué ha pasado? (What happened?)” My voice is barely a whisper. “¿Por qué...? (Why...?)” I stop myself when I hear the words out loud. In my state of shock, I have inadvertently resorted to my native Spanish. I open my mouth to try again, but nothing comes out, and I furrow my eyebrows. The man before places a warm cup between my hands, and I sip the herbal tea in it without questioning.

“Shhh, cara mia, it’s alright,” he comforts me, sitting on a stool directly facing me. “Io capisco.” ‘I understand.’ I nod slowly at the familiarity of the words, and take another sip. This must be Leonardo da Vinci. His husky voice is definitely the one I heard telling off Isaac. This man saved me.

“Gracias,” I breathe out. “Grazie mille.” The corners of my mouth twitch at having regained my ability to think. I try again, this time in English. “Thank you. Oh, thank god!” I am so glad I am not stuttering uncontrollably. I can speak again!

Leonardo - I assume this is who he is - pulls out a cigarillo and looks at me quizzically.

“No need to thank me so much, cara mia. Prego.” He chuckles, putting the cigarillo between his lips.

“May I have one of those?” I ask shyly. He hands me the box for me to grab one, and then proceeds to light both with a match. I welcome the smoke into my lungs, the familiar burning in my throat a relief as my breathing slows down to normal. I exhale the first puff and tilt my head to look at him. “That’s not what- I mean, yeah, but I was just testing if I could speak English again. Thanks again. For the smoke, this time. Leonardo, no?”

He smiles and lets out another low chuckle.

“Sì. You know Italian?” I think he is trying to distract me from the incident. I let him.

“Io capisco,” I shrug, badly imitating his deep voice. He opens his mouth, mockingly offended, and I giggle. I like the way he treats me like a normal person. It’s easy to forget who I’m talking to, where I am right now, and I lean into that as much as I can. “Sto scherzando (I’m joking). Parlo anche un po ' (I also speak a little).”

“Not bad.” He raises his eyebrows, looking impressed. Truth be told, it’s similar enough to Spanish for me to be able to communicate easily without being fluent. I learned that the hard way during my undergraduate exchange program. Leonardo becomes serious once again, and leans closer to me, resting a big hand on my arm. “I take it you are feeling better?” I nod and give him a half smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

“What happened back there? Why did he try to...” I trail off when I realize I don’t know what to say. Eat me? Suck me dry? The idea of Isaac being a vampire sounds so mind bogglingly stupid, and yet I struggle to think of another explanation. “What was he trying to do to me, Leonardo?”

He remains quiet, and I see his eyes focus somewhere behind me. I follow his gaze only to see le Comte at the door. How long has he been there?

“Perhaps he can explain it better.” Leonardo squeezes my arm affectionately before getting up. He smiles at me one last time and disappears down the hallway, with le Comte now taking his place on the stool.

“I am terribly sorry, my chérie. How are you feeling?”

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevam #ikemen #ikemen fanfiction #ikevamp fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikemen vampire isaac #ikevamp isaac #ikemen vampire comte #ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen vampire sebastian #ikevamp sebastian

[afangirlwashere]

Spanish panic (p.p.)

Summary: Spanish classes can get tough but nothing is worse than having a panic attack at a school bathroom. 

Author’s Note: I had this idea running through my head for a while. It’s just a one-shot to get these thoughts out of my head. If you have any ideas that are bothering you and you’d like a fanfic made out of them feel free to send it my way! 

Warnings: Panic attack and Endgame spoilers

Song inspiration: Burn It Down - Daughter (this song is honestly post-Endgame Peter Parker I don’t take criticism) also if you want to you can listen to Neptune by Sleeping At Last that one goes well with it too

Masterlist

The class was filled with nervous whispering and (Y/N)’s tapping.  In the presence of the two classmates next to her - Nancy and Wendy - any concentration wasn’t possible. 

“Chill out.” Betty was typing something on her laptop while (Y/N) stared in her notes. 

“If señora Diosa gives us the test I’m screwed!” she skimmed through her scribbled notes. 

Betty rolled her eyes “We haven’t been in Spanish class for literally five years. There is no way señora Diosa remembers we were supposed to have a test! She didn’t blip!” 

“I’m telling you this old crone is going to remember!” (Y/N) put her hair behind her ear as she shook with nervousness “God how I hate the high heels she wears. You can hear her from miles! Click, clack, clickity, clack.” 

Betty giggled “If she still wears them...”

“But it’s totally crazy!” Nancy whispered as quietly as if Wendy was an old deaf woman “It’s space! It’s infinite! There’s no way anyone could get back to Earth. I’ve read a few articles from different University professors who calculated the exact chance Tony Stark had to get back. It was practically zero! Not even he could have solved something like this!! There has to be something bigger behind it!” 

Wendy was on the edge of her seat fiercely nodding “I’ve heard that they want to make a documentary about him. Mr. Sommers said that every school is going to make their students watch it when it comes out. And we’ll probably be watching it for the anniversary of the day everyone was brought back. That’s cool right?”

“Somebody should teach them how to whisper.” Betty grumbled and typed louder on her keyboard.

(Y/N) noticed that she didn’t like to talk about the tragedy which affected the whole world. She was always quite pale but whenever Thanos was mentioned she seemed almost translucent. 

“How do you say small in Spanish? How would you say it!?” (Y/N) quickly browsed between three pages of notes. 

“Try asking him.” 

Peter sat right in front of them. He was silent and stiff the whole time which wasn’t like him at all. (Y/N) barely spoke to him since they blipped back. He’d go home immediately after school or disappeared somewhere with Ned. 

“Oh, mighty overlord of Spanish!” (Y/N) kicked Peter’s chair “Would you be so kind and share with me your wisdom? How would you transcribe the Spanish word for-” 

Peter’s chair rumbled as he stood up and stumbled out of the classroom leaving with heavy breaths.  All his stuff was still on the table which was weird. If he wanted to skip this class (like he used to) why wouldn’t he take it? 

“Did I do something wrong?” (Y/N)’s voice cut through the silence. She didn’t even realize everyone's attention was on Peter as well. 

It only took a few seconds before she got up and ran after him. Any stress from the test was replaced by worry for Peter.  She saw him disappear to the boy's bathroom. She stood facing the door and considered if she should knock, barge in or just wait for him in the hallway. 

But before she could decide she heard a familiar click, clack, clickity, clack. Señora Diosa was rushing to class.  (Y/N) knew that if her teacher saw her here she’d get in serious trouble because how do you say ‘I think I pissed my friend off so much that he ran to the boy’s bathroom and I need to make sure he’s fine’ in Spanish? 

Before she could think it through her hands were pushing on the door, her eyes firmly shut. This tactic didn’t work for long though because the moment she heard heavy breaths her curiosity couldn’t be stopped. 

In the corner of the room next to the sink was Peter sat, shaking, with his head between his knees. The screen of his phone was lit up next to him. 

“Peter?” (Y/N) slowly stepped closer, all the shame of being in a boy's bathroom has already left her.

She kneeled next to him, her eyes set on his phone. First thing that went through her head was ‘What if something happened to his aunt?’

But his phone was ringing. And the name of the person who Peter tried to call was ‘Tony Stark’. 

Of course... Why didn’t she think of that earlier? People all around the world were shocked by Tony Stark’s heroic death but (Y/N) didn’t realize Peter knew him personally. He constantly spoke about him being his mentor and role-model. Peter probably didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to him. And now he was gone.

(Y/N) quickly canceled the call and locked his phone “Peter...” she cautiously touched his shoulder hoping human contact would provide some support. 

His head jerked up as if she still startled him. He didn’t even know that somebody was in the room with him. Tears as big as peas were running down his cheeks. 

“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be alright.” she gently rubbed his arm “Can you hear me?” she lowered her head to look him in the eyes. 

Peter wiped his nose on his sleeve, eyelids shuddering as he nodded “Can you speak?” (Y/N) whispered.

Peter took a shaky breath, his mouth was dry and instead of words coming out of it he painfully exhaled. His forehead glistened with cold sweat while white spots danced in front of his eyes.  He wrapped his hands around her waist as a heartwrenching sob left his throat. 

(Y/N) moved closer, hoping his firm grip would loosen. She felt his tears seep through her shirt. He was trying to say something but (Y/N) couldn’t understand his mumbling. 

“Shhhh... I’m here... I’m here with you.” she stroked his head and pulled one of his hands to her heart. Her other hand snaked around to touch his neck which was covered in goosebumps “Can you look at me Peter?” 

His eyelids were heavy but somehow he managed to raise his head enough to look at her even when everything was blurry or covered by spots that seemingly weren’t about to fade. 

“I want you to try and concentrate on my breathing yeah? We’re gonna breathe together alright? You’re going to be okay again I promise just breathe with me.” She watched him close his eyes and nod. 

“Alright. Breathe in...” her chest rose in a large breath so that Peter could feel it as well “And breathe out...” 

Peter’s lips trembled through the first three tries and he could only listen to the calming breaths and heartbeats as he held onto her like his life depended on it. 

When his breathing slightly stabilized (Y/N) spoke again “Can you tell me three things you see around you?” 

“You...” he swallowed hard, fiddling with her shirt “Soaked up napkin...” (Y/N) turned around to make sure it was actually there “Bathroom stall door...” 

“Good... Good... Just keep breathing... You’re safe. Nothing’s gonna happen to you I swear.” she pushed the curls that stuck to his sweaty forehead away from his face “You’re burning up...” 

(Y/N) automatically fumbled in the back pocket of her jeans where she kept a tissue since she was known for her bleeding nose at any circumstance. Explaining why there’s smeared blood next to her answer on a test got pretty tiring real quick. 

“I’ll be right back,” she tried to pull his hand away “I’m gonna wet the tissue okay?” when he didn’t respond she tried again “Peter?”

His eyes were shut but he slowly nodded, rubbing his face with shaky hands as he leaned on the tiles.  When she kneeled next to him his breathes were shaky and irregular again. 

“I’m going to put a cold tissue on your forehead now. I’ll wipe it on your hand first so you can feel it.” after wiping it on his hand she slowly pressed it to his forehead. (Y/N) sat next to him, holding one of his hands in hers so he could still feel her presence if his vision betrayed him. 

Water dribbled from the tap for a long time before Peter spoke “I... I didn’t save him.” 

(Y/N) pulled her knees away from her face and stared in his. It wasn’t hard to guess who was in question “Peter...” she ran over his hand “It wasn’t your fault you...” she intertwined their fingers thinking twice what to say next “You couldn’t have saved him.” 

Peter stared ahead, sings of doubt if he should tell (Y/N) the truth showed in his eyes “I could have..” his voice trembled and before he could stop himself the whole truth came out of his mouth along with tears which he wasn’t fast enough to wipe away. 

#peter parker #marvel #mcu #spider-man #peter parker fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #endgame #avengers: endgame #panic attack #peter parker x reader #oneshot #peter parker oneshot #betty brant #betty #post-Endgame #tony stark #irondad #iron man #spiderman #tom holland #peter parker fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel oneshot #mcu oneshot

[call-me-emma]

First Introductions

Summary: Hey guys! I’m so excited to finally have this finished. It’s my first story with Emma. It takes place her 2nd year of high school. She moved to Central City a year ago and this is the story of how she meets a certain redhead. (And yes, I’ve done my research on where he’s originally from in the comics. I tried to stick as close to the canon i could find as possible.)

Word Count: 1492

Warnings: None

Note: Telepathy and ‘thought dialogue’ is marked in italics

Emma tugged at the strap of her backpack adjusting its position. She wondered how it got so heavy. Then she remembered she was carrying her books for Biology, AP European History, and American Lit.

“Ow! Dang it” she exclaimed as she walked straight into the glass doors to Central City High School.

She’d been distracted, as usual, flipping through her planner to see what she had forgotten for the day. Thankfully nobody seemed to have seen her; at least nobody seemed to be laughing. She didn’t feel anyone thinking how foolish she was either. She fumbled with the pages till she found the correct page. Emma wondered how she ever knew what day of the week it was. The only way she ever remembered was by what classes she had that day, or if she had tae kwon do lessons after school. She frowned slightly as looked at the page. Today was Student Ambassador day.

Emma had been excited about it when she signed up, but now she wasn’t so sure. Her teacher had recommended her, and she’d never been the one to say no to an authority figure. Besides which, she had been a bit too proud to admit she was nervous; that meeting new people wasn’t really her thing. She had pushed herself outside of her comfort zone far enough when she met her best girlfriend one year ago. It had been her first day of school in a new city. She had walked up to the only other table in the cafeteria anyone sitting alone and asked if she could sit there. The girl had been on her bus that morning. After that, Emma and the girl had become best friends.

It had been a year since Emma moved to Central City from Chicago. She had adjusted well to her new life in a quieter town. Chicago was The Big City.  Everything was noise and light and change and -LOUD. Always loud. Loud enough to drown out the the thoughts in her head. The rumble of the L-Train, sirens, a few birds, occasional gunshots, street vendors hawking their Chicago Dogs, people going about their day. Rushing to and fro; their heads all filled with thoughts.

Mostly about things she was too young or too naive to understand. Mortgages, business deals, politics. Sometimes she understood. Parents with sick kids, students worried about exams, couples fighting about money. Families of police officers and firefighters afraid their loved ones wouldn’t come home. These things she understood, as she worried about these same things. Sometimes it was all too much. Sensing so many thoughts of so many people at once left little room for her own thoughts.

The sounds of the city had helped with that and allowed her to block most of it out. Given her head space to focus on her own problems. Even though, when she did, she felt a twinge of guilt. The world was so big. And Emma Aiden Teague, and her problems, were so small. So insignificant.

At first moving to Central City had been a bit of a culture shock. Then it had been a relief, at least in some ways. It was so much quieter. There were fewer people, which meant fewer thoughts and emotions. And the people were quieter and more gentle with their thoughts.

Emma had looked forward to moving to a new place where she could start over. Back in Chicago, she’d always been the odd one out. Except in the dojang, where she had found a second family. Moving gave her a chance to start over. Nobody knew her, so she could remake herself into anyone. She could sculpt herself into the popular, outgoing girl she’d always wanted to be. More like her mother or her younger sister Jessica. It hadn’t worked as well as she’d hoped.

Now she was supposed to show the new kids around and make them feel welcome. She’d be giving them tips on how to survive- which teachers gave pop quizzes and which were good to ask for extra credit work, where the library was, those sorts of things. That part wasn’t a problem. But after all her efforts, she still never quite fit in with the right crowd. She wasn’t popular, she was still somewhat of the awkward girl. She wasn’t sure whether to pity the poor kid who got stuck with her, or dread getting laughed at. But she held onto the possibility that it would end up going well.

Shaking her slightly to clear it, Emma pulled herself out of her little reverie. She cursed as she looked at the clock in the hallway. She was almost late for first period! In her rush she nearly ran straight into one of the upper grade teachers. Please don't let me get detention! I'm already running late, I don't have time for that! she thought.

“It's ok. you've got time, I'm not giving you detention. Just slow down, and try to watch where you're going, Miss Teague.”

Emma managed to slide into her seat seconds before the bell rang, harried and out of breath.

Later that morning she was sitting next to the new boy she was assigned to as the student ambassador in the cafeteria. He had sunset orange hair and green eyes that seemed to buzz with electricity perfectly complimented by a smattering of freckles. He looked like the kind of boy who should be awkward but somehow wasn't. He had an air of confidence. She was suddenly very aware of the way her shoulder length brown hair hung straight and boring. Her eyebrows probably needed plucked, her lips were bleeding again from nervously picking them, and she surely had dark circles under her muddy brown eyes.

“Ok, Wally. Let’s see what classes you’ve got,” she said reaching for his schedule.

“Hey, call me Wallman” He finger gunned her as he handed over his schedule.

She rolled her eyes and chuckled at him. “Ok, Wallman”. Looking over his schedule she noticed they had several classes together and set hers down for comparison. “Here. We’ve got physics, American lit, and P.E. together. I can help you with American Lit if you need it, but physics isn’t exactly my strong suit. I’ve got French for my foreign language, and my Spanish is a little rusty. So i might not be able to help you much with that. But I’ve heard Senorita Blanco is good. Doesn’t give too much homework and she’s supposed to be fun.”

“Ah, bueno. Bueno.” Wally winked at her. “You speak the French, Mademoiselle? Perhaps you will teach the Wallman.”

Emma smiled slightly and shook her head at his attempt at a French accent. “I mean, I guess, if you want me to. I’m not that good though. I only know un peu.” She made her index finger and thumb into a ‘little bit’ gesture. “My friend Natalie is better.”

“Nah, babe. I’d rather you teach me”

She blushed slightly in spite of herself and looked at the table, wondering if he was flirting or if he was always like this. “Please don’t call me babe.”

Wally had the decency to look sorry as he put his hands up. “Oh. Ok. Sorry. I won’t, Emma”

“Thanks” She shoved her books back into her bag as the the warning bell for the next period rang. “Ok, this is one of the classes we have together. American Lit.You can sit by me if you want.”

“Yeah, sure ba..Sorry. Sure. Lead the way.” He paused for a moment. “Hey, Emma, my aunt and uncle are throwing us a welcome barbeque this evening. Want to come?”

“Sure, ok, I guess. Is this, um, like a big thing, or?”

“Nah. Not too big. Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris are pretty cool. It’ll be lots of fun. But it’d be better if you were there.” He looked at her with a smirk.

“Alright. I’ll come. I have to double check with my parents first, but sure. What time?”

“6:30ish.” As they approached the classroom door, Wally put his arm around her. “I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

Emma chuckled again. She couldn’t pinpoint why, but her instincts told her he was right. She felt comfortable around him. Somehow she could sense that underneath the cockiness, he was a good guy. The kind who genuinely wanted to help people. Something just clicked. “Haha. I think so too, Wallman. Now let’s go before we’re late.”

#Emma Aiden Teague #emma teague #oc x wally west #OC x Kid flash #my OC #emma

[m2k021]

Coffee

Part 1

Summary: Kora accidentally bumped into Min Yoongi on her way home. He offers to help her write her songs and to help her Korean, since she’s a little rusty. Over time, she begins to feel things, things she doesn’t want to feel. She knows that Yoongi thinks of her as a little sister. But does he really?

Word Count: 1538

Warnings: Fluff, Flirting, Eventual Smut

A/N: Set right before the release of Cypher 4

“Ah, dammit!” I shouted, crouching down to pick up my scattered notes. A boy kneeled to help. “No, it’s alright. I’ve got it.” I said, darting my hands out to grab the notes before he could read them. “Sorry for making a scene.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” he said, his hand reaching for my lyrics book, which was wide open.

“No!” I said, lunging forward to snatch the book from his grasp. “I-I’m sorry, it’s personal.” I muttered. My face burned with embarrassment.

“Um, I understand.” He said, flipping over the pages as he handed them to me. I finally looked up and re-dropped everything. He chuckled.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, feeling my face burn even brighter. “Min Yoongi.”

He grinned his usual gummy smile. I glanced around for the other members, semi-glad to find them not there. Suga is my bias. “So, you finally recognized me.” He teased.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for being such an ass.” I muttered, keeping eye contact with him.

“No, it’s okay. You weren’t an ass,” he said with a stomach fluttering smile. “What are they?” He asked, nodding to my various papers.

I hesitated. ‘Um, they’re lyrics.” I muttered, tucking the pages into my bag.

“Oh, you write?” He asked, leaning back on his heels to look at me.

“Not really, well, I mean, yeah, but um, I, uh, I…” I fumbled for my words,

He chuckled. “It’s alright, you don’t owe an explanation. But, if you would like someone to look over them, I’ll be glad to. I’ve got nothing scheduled for the next couple of hours.” He offered his hand to help me stand, which I took.

“Well, um, you don’t have to, that’s fine.” I stammered.

“No, I’d love to. I always like to read other people’s lyrics.” He said with a smile.

“Um, really?” I asked quietly, rocking back and forth on my heels.

“Yeah, come on. We can do it over coffee?” He asked, moving so I could walk first.

“The others won’t wonder where you are?” I questioned, turning around to look at him.

“No, they know not to expect me for another two hours. We’ve got plenty of time,” he said.

“Thanks, for doing this, but, why are you doing this?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.

He was quiet for a moment. “Well,” he slowly answered, “I like to help and, well, I think you’re cute and I want to help you.” He said, smiling at the ground.

My eyes widened and my face flushed a deep red. “O-oh, thanks.” I said, biting my lip to hide my smile.

“It’s no problem.” He said. “The shop is just up here. I was thinking we could grab a coffee, then go somewhere more quiet?” He asked, turning to me for approval.

“Yeah, yeah, that’d be great.” I said, nodding vigorously. We quickly approached the store and darted in. His face was obscured by his hat, and somewhere along the way he had slipped on his face mask.

“What’ll it be?” He asked, pushing his mask down under his chin. I grinned at the chance to see this sight in person.

“I’ll have a caramel macchiato,” I said with a smirk. He chuckled, his cheeks filling over the mask. He looked cute and puffy.

He approached the counter and gave the barista our orders before coming back to me. “It’ll be just a minute,” he said. “In the meantime, what’s your name? I never asked.”

“Oh! Right, I’m Kora.” I said, sticking my hand out to shake his.

“Kora, pretty.” He said with a smile. I blushed again. “You’re American?” He asked.

“Hmm, Italian, actually,” I said. “My mom was born in Florence, as was I, but we moved to America when I was a year old.” I explained.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Do you know any Italian?” He asked.

“Mmm, unfortunately, no, no I do not. I was too early for the language to stick, and my mom always spoke English after we moved to America.” I said, shaking my head. “I wish, though, that she’d teach me some Italian, but she’s very weird whenever I bring up Italy.”

“Aw, that’s shame.” He said. “So, why’d you move to South Korea?” He asked, asking me to wait when the barista called our names. When he came back, we both left the shop and continued to talk.

“Well, I moved here to get away from America. I’m sick of it there, to be completely honest. My life wasn’t all that good. I was the straight-A student, Valedictorian, then I graduated and my mom and dad wanted me to be a lawyer like them, but that’s not what I want.” I shrugged and sipped on the coffee, relishing in the caramel goodness.

“Then what do you want?” He asked, watching me over the edge of the cup as he sipped.

I considered the question before answering. “Well, I have a strong passion for music, like singing and dancing, and also for learning, That’s partially why I came here. I wanted to learn about another culture and language, and, I gotta say, I’m impressed.” I said with an approving scoff.

“How so?” Yoongi asked, swishing his drink back and forth. From the aroma, I could tell that it was the same as mine.

“Well, for one, your culture is amazing! You’re use of honorifics, it’s great. Everyone is so polite and respectful, meanwhile, over in America, you’ve got people shooting up elementary schools.” He smiled over the steam that was rising from his coffee. “Also, the language. I thought that learning spanish was hard, but, phew, Korean is ten times worse. It’s so complicated, especially with the Hangul. Like, if you guys wrote with the romanized version, it would have been slightly easier, but no. It was so difficult for me to learn, especially since I came here with no knowledge of Korea or its customs.

“So, when I got here, I knew nothing. I could only speak English and spanish. It took me nearly two years to learn Korean, and I’m still rusty. I constantly forget the honorifics, and people tend to think that I’m incredibly rude, especially when I mess them up. It’s so embarrassing.” I blushed slightly, shying away from his amused expression.

“Well, a few times during this conversation I’ve gotten lost. Who taught you Korean?” He asked.

“Myself,” I said timidly.

“Really?” He asked in surprise and amazement, stopping me.

“Yeah, I went to some classes, but I began to piece everything together after a while. I taught myself almost everything.” I said, my cheeks reddening again.

“Wow, for a second I thought I was going to have to scold someone, but you’re actually a pretty good speaker for being self-taught,” he said with a huff. “I’m impressed.”

I stood straighter, a little confused. “Wait, so I’m bad?”

“No, not bad, just….a little confused. You used some words backwards, but you’re still really good. If you want, I can also tutor you in Korean, in exchange that you teach me some English.” He said with a gummy smile.

I grinned. “Deal,” I stuck out my hand and he took it, shaking it firmly.

“Deal,” he grinned back. “But still, you’re pretty darn good, I just need to see your writing.” He said.

“Oof, that’s where I’m really bad.” I laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of my neck. Just then, a phone pinged and we both dug through our pockets to check ours. It turned out to be his, but I decided to shoot my best friend a text about who I was with.

Yoongi was busy on his phone as I screamed at my best friend, Ella, about what was happening. “Here, let me get your number, Kora. I’m so sorry, but something just came up.” He said, handing his phone to me.

“Oh, that’s no problem,” I lied. Maybe he was ready to ditch me. I quickly typed in my phone number and name, with a reminder of who I was before handing his phone back to him.

“Look, I’m not trying to ditch you, Kora-” he read my mind- “Namjoon is having an issue with some equipment, and none of the others can help. I’ll call you later tonight. Again, I’m so sorry. Enjoy the rest of your day.” He called out as he rushed across the street and got swept away by the Seoul current.

I huffed in disappointment. Maybe I jinxed myself when I told Ella. I thought, chugging the rest of my coffee before throwing it away. Not even a minute passed before my phone pinged. I thought it was Ella, but was surprised to find an unknown number. It was Yoongi. I internally screamed as I answered.

He wasn’t ditching me! I skipped along the sidewalk, giggling and humming happily as I made my way. I finally made it home and threw my bag down, giggling again as I sat down. I put my phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ so Ella’s frantic texts wouldn’t come through anymore. I sighed as I flopped onto my bed, tucking my hands between my knees as I thought. Best. Day. EVER!

#bts fanfic #Yoongi fic #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts imagine #beyond the scene #yoongi #oc #v #jungkok #jimin #jin #namjoon #jhope #syga #agust d

[notagainnialll-blog]

The Best Choice

Niall is in TKE, the biggest frat on campus and he’s also Y/N’s tutor. 

Niall picks his cap off of his head, lacing his fingers through his brown hair. He sets the hat next to him on the table, threading his foot through the loop of his backpack and pulling it closer to him. He unzips it, pulling out his phone and checking his messages for the hundredth time. He lets out an impatient sigh as he clicks onto the messages with an unsaved number, the last reply blinking over at him. 4 pm is great!:) A clamoring at the table catches his attention, and Niall feels a sense of irritation gnawing at him as the girl in front of him flops down into the wooden seat; her long parka flooding around her. She swipes a wool hat off of her head, smiling brightly at Niall as her fingers fumble with her zipper. “Sorry ‘m late! My pug, Atti’s not feeling too well and I wanted to make sure-“ Niall cuts her off, opening his textbook with a heavy thud as the pages flop against the table. The girl pulls her bag into her lap, shuffling papers as she sorts through the contents. It takes her a while to pull the heavy textbook out of her bag, and Niall notices the coffee stain soaked through the spine. She leans forward, squinting to see what page Niall has his book open to, and her eyes fall onto his cap instead. “Oh! You’re in TKE! That’s where I recognized you from.” Her voice is too chirpy, and Niall nods his head once. Niall was in Tau Kappa Epsilon, but his life didn’t revolve around the frat like his brothers. Niall got shitfaced at the frat house every weekend, took home girls on the occasion, and didn’t have to do much. Except this.

Niall’s spanish professor had stopped him after lecture, and Niall was shocked that she even knew his name. He was a good student, he knew; but Niall rarely ever raised his hand and surely never went to her office. “I’ve got a proposal. You tutor one of my students and I’ll write off your philanthropy.” That’s how Niall found himself in the library, sitting across the table from a girl he’d otherwise never speak to. “That’s cool, they have those really awesome lights in the basement and the air hockey table,” She hums, and Niall doesn’t understand why she seems to be so happy. “I’ve never introduced myself, have I? I’m Y/N. Professor Vasquez was really nice setting me up with a tutor and all, so thanks. I’m really shit at Spanish.” “‘M Niall,” he grumbles, “I’m on page 142.” Y/N quickly flips the pages, opening a notebook to a fresh page next to her. She sets index cards to her right and a pen and pencil atop the book, then an array of highlighters to her left. Niall counts- 8 highlighters, and Y/N rubs her hands together. “I’m ready.” Niall quickly learns, she is shit at Spanish. They’ve been going at vocab for two hours, and they’ve barely made a dent in the thick pile of notecards sitting on the table. Y/N blinks hard, tipping her seat back so her weight is settled on the balls of her feet. She tilts her head back to stare at the ceiling, and she stays like that for a long while before her seat comes crashing forward with a thud. Y/N huffs as she lays her feet flat, and Niall thinks she’s oddly calm for someone who’s just almost wiped out. “I dunno,” she says finally, and Niall turns the flash card around, emitting a deep sigh from the girl. She swings her legs back and forth against the carpet, and the sound makes the hair on the back of Niall’s neck stand up. “Stop.” He murmurs, extending his leg out until the toe of her thick snow boots hit his Nikes. “Let’s just call it a day.” Y/N’s voice had gone slightly flat, but Niall lifts his shoulders into a shrug, shutting his textbook with a thud. He watches Y/N, her head hung low as she slowly packs her things. Niall stands up, settling his cap back on his head and slinging his jacket around his shoulders. He slides his arm through one strap of his backpack and is about to walk away before Y/N grabs his wrist. “Thank you Niall. Really. I appreciate you a ton, so here.” She holds out her hands to him, offering a plastic wrapped muffin. “It’s blueberry!” Niall has no clue where the fuck she’s gotten a muffin from, but he takes it with a small thanks. Y/N flashes him one last smile, tugging on thick mittens before she waves, spinning on her heel and walking away. Niall watches her retreating figure, the pom on her wool hat bobbing up and down as he unwraps the muffin, sinking his teeth into the moist pastry and shaking his head. It was damn good.

And it goes like this for weeks- Niall and Y/N meet at the library; go to the quietest corner they can find and Y/N meticulously sets up her supplies around her while Niall holds up various flashcards. It almost always ends with Y/N calling it quits in a flurry of frustration (Niall always knows when she’s finished; her eyebrows furrow, her usually gleaming eyes go a bit dull and the smile that Niall thinks is permanently etched onto her face draws into a scowl). Before he leaves, Y/N always presents Niall with a different baked good- cookies, muffins, brownies; all perfectly sweet and Niall wonders where in the hell she’s got all this time to bake. On a particularly rough day, Niall notices Y/N’s eyes fill with tears as she shuts her textbook closed. Niall’s heart stutters because he has no clue how to deal with crying people, especially girls; and particularly Y/N who’s bright and cheery demeanor rivals no one else that Niall knows. “Sorry,” she mumbles quickly, attempting to will the tears away and she grunts in frustration as another slips down her cheek. “It’s just…it’s been a whole 2 months and I’m still doing really shitty, and I don’t get it because I’m doing everything, I really am, and you’re trying to help me and I’m just wasting your time…” “The baked good are always a nice treat, though.” Niall interrupts her, and Y/N smiles slightly, wiping away another tear. “I’m glad you like them. S’usually just me and Atti eating them and he’s quite pudgy as it is.” Niall grins a bit, closing his own textbook. “What do ya say we go to the dining hall and grab some food? They’ve got soup today, maybe it’ll make ya feel better.”

Y/N finds herself sitting across from Niall in the midst of the dinner rush in the dining hall she’d barely been in all year, sprinkling pepper into her soup. “S’good. Warm,” She comments over a mouthful, a bit slipping from the corner of her mouth and dribbling down her chin. Niall watches in amusement as she swipes it away with her thumb, and Y/N sighs in content. “You don’t talk much, do you?” The question catches Niall off guard, and he shakes his head, chewing thoughtfully. “Dunno, haven’t found people really worth talkin’ to I s’pose.” Y/N blinks over at him owlishly, her face twisted into confusion. “S’the look you give me when you dunno an answer. What?” Y/N stirs her spoon into her bowl, the metal clinking against the ceramic as she thinks carefully about what she’s going to say. “I just, aren’t you all social kind of people? Y’know, with the parties and such-“

“You all?” Niall raises an eyebrow at her, and Y/N titters. “Yeah, the whole fraternity thing? I mean you got in for a reason. Especially TKE, s’the biggest frat on campus.” Niall knew the only reason he’d gotten in was because of Greg, and the fact that Niall was a damn good time when he was drunk. But otherwise, he was a dick of a pledge and rarely showed up to mandatory events. For some reason the chapter president let it slide, but he’d eye Niall every weekend, sipping on his drink but would never say anything, especially with the amount of girls that would come to the frat just to gawk over Niall. Niall doesn’t talk to his frat brothers- barely talks to anyone for that matter, which is why he surprised himself by asking Y/N to join him for dinner. Niall was more a fan of taking his food in to go boxes, so that he could sit in his dorm unbothered. “I don’t talk t’the others. They’re all a bunch a pricks anyways, make each other do stupid shite like…” Niall’s voice dies away as Y/N freezes, quite literally shrinking into the plastic seat, her eyes drawn into her soup bowl like it was the most interesting thing alive. “Y/N,” a sharp, nasally voice pierces through Niall’s, and he stares over at the visitor. “Listen,” Y/N starts and Niall’s never heard her voice like this- timid and nearly disinclined to speak. “I came to talk to Niall,” The girl dismisses Y/N, and the look of relief on her face makes Niall knit his eyebrows together even tighter in confusion, but he doesn’t say a word to the girl. “So I was thinking this weekend you could come hang at Alpha Phi with me and we could have a few drinks before the party at the frat.” The suggestion doesn’t excite Niall one bit, and a complete shift in the tone of her voice throws him off. All the bitter nastiness in her voice when she was addressing Y/N is gone, but nonetheless punctures his eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. “No thanks.” He says, voice void of emotion. “Oh! That’s fine, we can just meet afterward, let me just give you my number-“ Niall cuts her off once again. “Nah.” He then swiftly turns his attention back to Y/N, dismissing the girl who blinks and narrows her eyes at Y/N, before walking away with a click of her tongue. “Wha’ was that?” He questions the girl in front of him, who pushes her soup away across the table, apparently stricken with a sudden mood of indifference. “Nothing,” Y/N mumbles, standing up with her jacket in hand. “I gotta go. I’ll see you later.” The retraction of her typically bubbly personality concerns Niall, though he hasn’t got the slightest idea why. “Let me- let me walk you home, at least.” Niall follows, trailing after Y/N who all but nearly runs through the dining hall, bursting into the freezing darkness of the evening. She stays silent on the way home, only spinning to acknowledge Niall when she finally gets the door of her apartment unlocked, jiggling the knob and prying the door open. Y/N in any other circumstance would invite Niall in, make him a steaming mug of hot chocolate paired with a muffin and settle him into the couch with Atti, and Niall half expects it but she doesn’t. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He nods, swallowing the lump in his throat as he shoves his hands in his pockets as the door in front of him shuts. ~

“I have a frat thing till 9. Reschedule ?” Y/N kind of feels like Niall’s blowing her off the next day, but she’s sensitive and she knows that. Plus, she was quite insolent the day prior but she feels horrible and even made Niall a batch of chocolate chip cookies to prove it, and now she wasn’t even going to see him. And Niall was only her tutor, she has to remind herself; he has no obligation to tend to her and simply does it out of his own kindness (sort of). Y/N pulls Atticus into her lap, and he snorts in a manner of peaceful relaxation, one hand swiping down his back and the other sending a reply back to Niall. Her phone dings with a rather quick answer and Y/N feels a strange bubble of happiness as she reads his text. We can study at me place if ya want.

sure! I’ll bring cookies :)

The rest of the day Y/N creeps around her apartment, oddly nervous yet adrenalized to see Niall. She reassures herself that she’s simply excited to make a friend after so long- Atticus sure is a great cuddler, but the small wheeze he emits when she talks to him is quite demoralizing and makes Y/N feel even more dejected. When she arrives at his dorm, she knocks three times before she hears the pattering of Niall’s feet against the floor, a simper across her face when the door swings open. “C’mon in.” He simply steps aside, and Y/N brushes past him, her eyes scrutinizing and taking in every part of his room. Niall feels slightly self conscious as she gazes around, soaking in the warmness. Dorms are shitty, but Y/N is impressed with Niall’s ability to rid of the repulsiveness. An Irish flag hangs over the majority of the wall behind his bed; which Y/N notices was two twin mattresses pushed together and melded with one dark bedsheet, a lighter gray comforter over top and folded over a few feet away from where two pillows lay. A desk is shoved into the corner of the room, Niall’s books stacked neatly atop the wooden surface and a guitar rests against it. The other desk is parallel to Niall’s bed, a TV and speaker system meticulously on top. Y/N feels almost invasive, like she’s intruding into Niall’s diligently crafted bubble, but he’s watching her and his blue eyes are nothing but welcoming. “The cookies, here.” Y/N interrupts the silence, offering him the saran wrapped plate of baked goods which Niall places on the table next to his bed. “How was the frat thing?” She questions, leaning down to untie her shoe. “Boring, just the pledge ceremony. Jus’ watched a bunch a pricks dedicate their whole entire Uni life to poisonin’ their livers an’ cleanin’ up throw up.” Niall rolls his eyes, watching in appreciation as she sets her shoes neatly near the door. His fingers work on unwrapping the plastic around the cookies as Y/N gathers and organizes her school supplies, sitting parallel from Niall on his bed and crossing her legs, her textbook splayed out atop her thighs. “You ready?” Niall flashes her a grin, and Y/N nods, a look of determination crossing her face.

It’s about 11 before Y/N begins to clock out, vexation adorning her face; a look Niall’s learned to recognize. “Let’s take a break,” He coaxes, and she nods her head in relief, shoving her things to the side and laying across Niall’s bed. “Can I ask ya somethin’?” Niall peers over at Y/N who blinks up at him affirmatively. “Wha’ was up with that whole thing yesterday? That girl and her nasty attitude, ‘f I didn’t know better I’d say she was out for ya. And ‘ve never seen ya so…”

“Withdrawn? Scared? Nearly pissing my fucking pants?” Y/N finishes when he cuts off abruptly. “I used to be an Alpha Phi. Last year, y’know when everyone just joined sororities because it made them look good and it was just what you were meant to do? But I fucking hated it, I despised it because all the girls were so insolent and the only thing that mattered was how cute you looked, or how much dick you were getting. And that girl, her name’s Anna, she was the chapter Vice President and she absolutely loathes me because Mason-“

“Mason? The TKE president?” Niall interjects, and Y/N sits up, hugging her knees to her chest. “Yup, s’him…She was into him and he asked me to formal, which drove Anna absolutely nuts and she went ballistic on me. Just started to fixate her time on torturing me, trying to fine me and punish me for everything and anything. Eventually I just quit. Didn’t even go to the formal. I’m mostly impervious to that kind of girly drama, but I was just too unhappy.” Y/N draws her bottom lip into her mouth, gnawing gently as Niall sits silently, absorbing everything. “‘F it makes ya feel better, Pet,” (the nickname slips past his lips before he can stop himself, but Y/N seems to have an affinity for the term of endearment). “Yer the one in me bed and not her.” Y/N releases a sigh, but bobs her head up and down slightly. “So yeah. Sorry about yesterday, it just…I didn’t get to meet many people because of how much time I put into Alpha Phi, and Anna’s presence just reminded me how utterly alone I am and how much they all hate me.” Y/N emits a tiny noise of surprise as Niall interlocks his fingers with hers; squeezing gently. His hands are soft and large, his fingers completely engulfing hers. Niall notices that Y/N’s cheeks are hot, a blush creeping up from her chest to her face and he’s not sure if it’s from her hand in his or the outpour of her feelings. “So,” Y/N says after a minute, “You play guitar?”

“Mm. Been teachin’ meself since I was 12.” Y/N crawls across Niall’s bed, slipping off and walking toward the desk. “Can I grab it?” Y/N halts suddenly and turns, reminding herself that’s she’s in Niall’s space and he emits a chuckle before granting her permission. “Teach me a lil somethin.” Y/N hands him the guitar and she gazes at him, revelling at how natural Niall molds himself around the instrument. “Dunno, Petal, if yer musical talent is anythin’ like yer knack for Spanish we could be in trouble.” She gasps slightly, and Niall laughs, a vibrato that warms Y/N to her toes but she nods. “You’re right, though. Play me something cool instead.” He begins to strum softly, plucking chords into something melodious. He peers over at Y/N when he notices her being unusually quiet, blinking in surprise as he sees her curled into his pillow, her eyes shut and her chest rising and falling slowly. Niall quietly slips out of bed, grabbing the extra blankets he has stashed in his closet and covering her with them. He doesn’t even mind that he has to sleep on the floor; but instead allows himself to be lulled to sleep with the comfort of her breathing. Niall thinks to himself that he may be getting slightly soft for her. ~

The next morning, Y/N shoots up suddenly in Niall’s bed, and it takes her a few minutes to remember where she is. She wraps the blanket around herself, sitting on the edge of the bed and nearly trampling an asleep Niall as she places her feet on the ground. “Oi,” He moans, half awake now as Y/N’s foot comes in contact with his abdomen, and she gasps as she tumbles over him. “Jesus.” Y/N giggles, scootching herself back some and crossing her legs as Niall groggily sits up. “Sorry, sorry…” Niall’s not sure what she’s apologizing for, but he mumbles an “s’okay,” as he combs his fingers through his hair. “No really, I didn’t mean to fall asleep last night, and you could’ve just woken me up and I would’ve gone, your back must hurt now.” Y/N frowns and Niall stands with a groan, only worsening Y/N’s guilt. “Nah, s’okay I got a bum knee. And it was absolutely freezin’ last nigh’, no way you could walk home.” Y/N stands, dragging her bag toward Niall’s bed and collecting her things. She figures she’d already overstayed her welcome; but Niall hasn’t said anything, just ambles to his closet, throwing a sweatshirt on over his pajamas. “You wan’ grab breakfast, Petal?” It takes her by surprise, but she doesn’t show it. “Sure, but I’ve gotta letti Atti out and feed him.Kinda just left him in the house last night after the spontaneous sleepover, so…” Y/N trails off, tugging one of her snow boots on and Niall nods as he zips his jacket. “Sure thing.”

Twenty minutes later Niall’s sat on Y/N’s couch, the pug snuggled into his lap as Y/N brushes her teeth. “So he’s who ya spend all yer time with, huh?” Niall motions to the sleeping dog as Y/N comes down in a soft yellow sweater, tugging a hairbrush through her hair. “Yep! My one and only friend. Sides you, now, I suppose.” Niall likes that, and the corners of his mouth tug into a smile. “Ready?” Y/N bends down to scratch behind Atti’s ears. “I’ll see you later,” She coos, scooping him off of Niall’s lap and setting him onto the couch. The pug wheezes a bit, but closes his eyes a minute later. Y/N extends a mitten clad hand toward Niall, who takes it with a grin. ~

“Y’know to Kill A Mockingbird ‘s the only book ‘ve ever read fully,” Niall says as he shovels potatoes into his mouth. “What?” Y/N gasps, dropping her spoon onto her plate dramatically. “I’m glad you get why I called Atti that, but Niall you’re missing a- a whole ‘nother world! Haven’t you taken an English course before?” Niall chews, rolling hair eyes. “Course I have, an’ ‘m shit at it. Strugglin’ right now through British literature, Sparknotes doesn’t fair too well with older books.” Y/N remains quiet, baffled as she sips her juice. “Maybe in exchange for helping me with Spanish I can help you with lit.” Niall thinks that’s the best idea Y/N’s had so far- he tutors her nearly every day; but with her helping him with English, the amount of time they spend together would double. “Sure Pet, jus’ hope yer a better tutor than I am.” Y/N pouts and swings her arm at him, punching Niall swiftly in the arm because she knows that’s a jab at how little her Spanish has improved. Niall only leans closer to pinch her cheeks with a smirk. “‘M only kiddin’, wipe that frown off yer face.” Niall notices that Y/N’s skin is extremely soft, and he wants to swipe his thumb against her lips because they look even more plump and supple, but he stops himself. “Oi,” He says suddenly. “There’s a party tonight at TKE, maybe you can come round?” Niall proposes, and he doesn’t know why because frat parties are hot and gross, and not at all how he’d like to spend time with Y/N but for some reason he can’t stand the thought of not seeing her tonight. “I understand if ya don’t wanna, y’know with the sorority girls an’ Mason an all-“ Niall rattles off when he’s met with silence. “Sure.” He blinks in surprise at her, but Y/N only finishes the rest of the pancakes without another word. ~

Y/N is oddly nervous as she walks toward the massive frat house embossed with the letters “TKE” printed in white against the red brick. She’s been to plenty of TKE parties, but that was before she’d quit the sorority and the fact that she was alone now made the task of walking up the driveway a tad more daunting. She doesn’t have to knock; she knows that that door’s unlocked and there’s plenty of people coming in and out of the party, some mulling around the front porch passing a joint. Some of them Y/N recognizes but she doesn’t say anything to them, just slips past through the open door with a deep breath. The thumping music pierced her ears; thrumming low and vibrating through her feet. She squints, forgetting how damn dark it is inside and her jacket begins to cling to her skin. Y/N feels a hand on her shoulder, spinning her and she comes face to face with Niall, who smiles widely at her, setting the beer in his hand down. He slips his hand into hers and leads her upstairs, Y/N following despite the fact that she has no clue where they’re going. The music is still rattling but not as loud upstairs as Niall shuts the door to what Y/N presumes to be a bedroom. “You came,” Niall garbles a bit, and she nods her head as she fumbles with her zipper; pulling it down before sliding her jacket off. “Course I did! I keep promises.” Niall’s mouth dries as he watches her strip off her coat, and he’s not sure if it’s the amount of beers he’s had but his breath catches in his throat slightly. Y/N always looks rather cute when they’re studying, but Niall momentarily forgets how to speak, his tongue heavy in his throat. She’s standing in front of him in the tightest pair of light blue jeans he’s sure she owns; an even tighter black tank top tucked into them. Niall realizes he’s gawking but he can’t help it, thinks to himself that this is the reason all of the other girls in her sorority despised her. “How many drinks ‘ve you had?” Y/N grumbles, and he hears her whine that she’s been speaking to him for the past few minutes, but Niall’s eyes only flutter shut as he stutters out an answer. “Well c’mon then, I’ve gotta catch up to you.”

Y/N’s lost Niall in the mass of bodies; but she doesn’t mind as she swivels her hips to the beat of the song, a cup of a drink she can’t identify gripped tightly in her hand. Y/N hasn’t been this drunk in a while, and her head is spinning some, so much that she doesn’t even mind when she feels someone grip her hips. She only grinds into the guy behind her, gasping slightly as they spin her around, making her momentarily lose her footing. “Oof-“ The guy’s hands are at her waist again, righting her and Y/N looks up. “Holy shit…Mason?” She’s ogleing at him, her mouth slightly agape as he ushers her into the kitchen. “Y/N I haven’t seen you in ages!” Mason pours her another drink, grinning over at him and Y/N thinks he’s awfully excited to see someone who pretty much stood him up at formal. She takes a long sip as she collects her thoughts, forms an apology in her head but he beats her to it. “I know you quit Alpha Phi because of Anna. And the whole formal thing, I just wanna forget about that.” Mason lifts his shoulders into a shrug and Y/N relaxes, smiling over at him. “So how ya been?” This invites a conversation  Y/N doesn’t particularly mean to, and she’s not entirely sure how long her and Mason talk for, or how many times he refills her cup. He finally excuses himself apologetically when the sound of breaking glass in the main room catches his attention, and Y/N finds herself alone in the kitchen, the room whirling around her.

Niall’s properly annoyed that he can’t find Y/N, but his thoughts are pushed to the back of his brain and he instead pours his energy into kissing the blonde girl pressed against him. He tries to relax as she smacks her lips against his throat; nipping at his skin but Niall’s thoughts are trained solely on Y/N. Irritated, he flips them over; pushing the girl against the wall. He’s slotted between her thighs, his fingertips digging into her waist as he melds his lips against hers. His indignation only increases when he feels a tap against his shoulder, and Niall pulls away from the girl before turning to find himself face to face with one of the pledges he recognizes. “What?” Niall all but growls, and the boy’s eyes widen in terror but he bites out, “A girl called Y/N’s looking for you,” and Niall’s following him without another word. “Y/N,” Niall calls softly when he sees the girl, sitting on the stoop of the corner in front of the house. He crouches in front of her and she looks up toward him, her head tilting forward and Niall’s afraid she might puke but she only burrows her head into his chest. “I’m really drunk,” she slurs, and Niall’s heart stutters when she mumbles, “Can you take me home?” Y/N’s head snaps up when she brings her hand to Niall’s bicep, feeling the bare skin and she wants to scold him, but the alcohol weighs down her tongue and slows her brain. “Got an Uber, don’ worry. I got ya.”

Niall is half carrying Y/N into her house, sighing in relief as he sets her onto the couch. Atticus almost immediately bounces toward Y/N, licking at her face; and the girl gives a soft moan as she pushes herself up. “I gotta have a shower,” she mumbles as her fingers work toward unzipping her parka. “I dunno, Pet if you’re in any condition to…” but Y/N is standing anyway; only stumbling slightly as she ambles up the stairs and Niall has no choice but to press himself against the couch to wait. She comes down almost 45 minutes later, an oversized t-shirt replacing her party clothes and her hair dripping wet. The color’s come back to her face, and the drunkness fogging her brain has merely become a dull throb. Niall hands her a glass of water, and she takes a large sip before speaking. “I’m so sorry you had to leave because of me,” Y/N says sheepishly, her eyes dropping down toward the mark on Niall’s neck. “I didn’t mean to interrupt…that.” Niall tuts his tongue when he realizes she’s taunting him, but her apology is sincere. “I’m serious. Thank you for bringing me home, but you can go back now. I really didn’t mean to leave you all high and dry, and I’m sure she’s not happy either.” Y/N flops onto  the couch next to Niall, and he turns to face her. “S’fine. I was thinkin’ bout you the entire time, anyway.”

“Sorry! I didn’t want you to worry, I was just in the kitchen-“ Y/N starts, but Niall cuts her off. “I meant I was thinkin’ about kissin you,” He clarifies, and Y/N’s cheeks blister with heat. “Oh, um.” She stutters, and Niall leans forward, pressing his lips to hers softly, giving her a chance to opt out. When she doesn’t, Niall deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cup her face. “Been thinkin about this for ages,” Niall concedes as he catches her bottom lip between his teeth,nibbling gently and Y/N emits a moan that makes Niall’s head spin. “C’mere, c’mere,” He murmurs as he momentarily pulls away, patting his lap, Y/N crawling toward him, but she hesitates before she sits. “‘M…’m not wearing pants.” Niall’s eyes dip down to her bare legs; the t-shirt cutting off at her thighs and he laughs. “‘S the least of me worries, Pet.”  She blushes but settles herself onto his lap, her legs on either side of him, and she lets out a tiny whine as Niall kisses down her throat, nipping at the skin. Y/N likes the feeling of Niall’s fingertips pressing against her hips, and she thrusts them forward slightly against him as her arms snake around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. “D’you…d’you wanna like…go upstairs or…” Y/N stutters,  and Niall quits nipping at her throat, his tongue flicking out and leaving small kitten licks against her throat to soothe the skin. “You askin’ me to bed?”

“Niall,” She admonishes, quite embarrassed but he only chuckles, his hands coming around to squeeze her ass and she gasps in surprise but catches his lips against hers once again. Y/N breaks the kiss, standing in front of Niall, eager to go upstairs and he notices that her shirt’s tucked into her knickers some. “These are quite cute, Pet,” He murmurs, running his fingers over the lacy waistband of her panties. “Were you expectin someone tonight?”

“Stop teasing me,” Y/N pouts as she begins to stride away from him up the stairs, Niall following closely. “No I wasn’t expecting anyone, haven’t hooked up with someone since last year but clearly you were expecting someone,” Y/N titters as she lays back onto her bed, sweeping her thumb over the hickey adorning his throat. “Oi but this is so much better.” Niall lays next to her, grabbing her wrist and Y/N sits up, repositioning herself so that she’s straddling his waist. She leans forward again, interlocking their lips; her chest pressed against his. Niall’s fingers slip up her shirt, his fingers ghosting over the skin of her stomach and Y/N shivers. He’s kissing her slow, his tongue parting her lips and his fingers find the bottom of her t-shirt, sliding it up, slowly. Y/N allows him to guide the fabric off her body; only breaking away from him to slip the shirt completely over her head. “So fuckin’ pretty,” Niall murmurs, his fingers slipping around to the clasp of her bra. “This okay, Petal?” He questions, and Y/N nods, blushing slightly as Niall exposes her. “Yer tits are so nice, Button.” Y/N throws her head back with a tiny moan as Niall leans forward, swiping his tongue against her nipple; his fingers coming to roll the the other between his fingers. Niall notices that Y/N’s pressing against herself against his thigh; the pressure built from rocking back and forth getting her off slightly. “Look at ya,” He hums, groaning slightly as Y/N fixes herself, settling her center straight on the bulge in Niall’s pants. “Don’ gotta do tha’, Pet. I’ll take care of ya.” He flips her over gently, until Y/N’s head is resting against the headboard. “You wan’ me to eat ya out?” Niall settles his hand on her thigh, pushing them apart. “No one’s ever…” She squirms slightly under Niall’s gaze, her breathing deepening when he licks a stripe up her inner thigh. “Never?” She shakes her head; and Niall slips his thumbs into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs slowly. “What shite guys ya been with,” Niall says quietly as he parts her thighs again; pressing a kiss to her navel. Y/N’s breath catches in her throat when Niall swipes his tongue from her entrance up to her clit, gauging her reaction. Y/N’s lips part as Niall sucks the swollen bud into his mouth, his hand snaking its way around her thigh. He sweeps his tongue against her folds, flicking it lightly against her clit, slowly applying more pressure, the whimpers falling from Y/N’s lips egging him on. “You’re so good at this, I…fuck,” Y/N gasps out as Niall slips his tongue to her dripping hole, diving in and out before feeling Y/N’s fingers slip through his hair. His scalp prickles with how hard she’s pulling; but the pretty noises escaping her distract Niall. “My clit please, lick my clit Niall please,” Y/N hums out, her hips thrusting toward him. He draws his attention back to the swollen button, taking it between his lips and suctioning; his tongue flicking simultaneously. The noise that escapes from Y/N is inhumane, and Niall feels her entire body tense. “I’m cumming- ‘m gonna cum Niall fuck.” Her orgasm dribbles on his chin a bit; and Niall can feel the sweet and sticky mix of sweat and post-climax desire matted to his skin. “God, god you’re so fucking good with your tongue,” Y/N mumble as she allows her head to fall back onto the headboard. She doesn’t lay back for long; propping herself up on her knees and pushing against Niall’s chest until he’s laid back. “Get these off,” She whines impatiently, tugging at Niall’s shirt. He slips it over his head as she works at the zipper of his jeans; tugging them down his legs, boxers and all. “You’re so fucking big.” Y/N’s eyes gloss over and she doesn’t hesitate in wrapping her hands around his hard cock, her thumb swiping over the supple tip and swiping away the precum that dribbles from him. “Oi, Jesus,” Niall groans when she wraps her mouth around him with no warning; her tongue coming to swipe at his frenulum. She works her tongue over the spongy head, hollowing her cheeks around him and Niall’s hand automatically grips her hair, pulling slightly. Y/N’s licking stripes up Niall’s cock and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt anything better; his head thrown back when she pushes him down her throat; spit collecting and dribbling down her chin. “Gonna cum. Y\N ‘m gonna…”  The words barely slip past his lips, his fingers curling in her hair as an orgasm shoots through his body, and Y/N is eagerly taking the white, hot spurts of cum down her throat. She comes off Niall with a tiny pop and a kiss to the head of his cock; and Niall grabs onto her; Y/N slotted between his thighs as he kisses her. “Can you fuck me now?” She murmurs into his ear, planting a kiss to his jaw and Niall wants nothing more. “Want you on top,” Y/N requests, and he happily obliges, flipping them so she’s laid back against the pillows, her bum resting st the edge of the bed, and Niall’s pumping his hand around himself. He grunts as he slips the head his cock to her slippery folds; before easing himself in. Y/N mewls when he’s all the way in, and he slides out slowly but she’s not having it. “Fuck me.”

“Yer so tight,” Niall groans as he pushes her leg to rest against her chest; his hand coming down onto the bed just above her head as he fucks into her slow and deep. “Oh..” Y/N shuts her eyes tightly as Niall presses against her; gaining rhythm as he thrusts into her faster. “Right there, right there fuck, Ni…” He feels her body go taut around him, and Niall knows he’s found a good spot; Y/N’s legs spreading a bit wider. Y/N can feel his spongy head rubbing against her g-spot, and she holds her breath, succumbing her body to the pleasure. Niall rolls his thumb against her clit, feeling a burning at the pit of his stomach and Y/N nearly chokes as she whimpers. The noises are tumbling past her lips and Y/N can’t make sense of her words. “Love your cock, feels so fucking good, feels so…” Y/N’s words are swallowed by Niall’s lips against hers; and she moans as he quickens his hips; the circles drawn against her clit by his thumb not stopping. Y/N’s squeezing around Niall’s cock and he knows she’s at the point; and Y/N momentarily forgets how to breathe as she squeezes her eyes shut tight; a white halo blurring her vision as she cums around Niall. She’s nearly screaming, begging him to please fuck her and he doesn’t stop thrusting; fucking her into her orgasm, his own creeping up his abdomen. “Jus’ came around my cock, didn’ ya Pet..” He murmurs, a growl ripping through his throat as he feels himself near the edge. He emits a groan as he thrusts into her one last time; spurting thick ropes of cum into her. Niall watches as Y/N’s chest rises up and down shakily as she recovers from her orgasm; her eyes lidded and sleepy. “Cuddle with me?” Y/N pleas and Niall doesn’t hesitate as he he crawls toward her, encasing his arms around her. She lays her head on his chest, her eyes quickly closing as they’re lulled to sleep by each other’s post orgasmic breathing.  ~  

The next morning Y/N wakes up, her limbs tangled with Niall’s, and she tries to be quiet as she slips out from underneath him. She watches in admiration as the brunette boy emits a small snore, rolling over onto his side. Butterflies rise up from her abdomen to her chest and Y/N attempts to will them away as she lets Atti out, scratching behind his ears as the pug stares up at her. “I think I like him, Atti.” Y/N huffs, laughing quietly as he twitches his ears, ambling toward his empty food bowl. “S’all you want from me.” She fills his bowl anyway; the sound of the pellets hitting the metal bowl enough to drown out Niall’s footsteps. “Mornin’, Pet.” Niall’s fingers come to wrap around Y/N’s waist as she rests against the counter. She spins to face him, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Niall presses his lips against hers gently, and Y/N’s eyes close, her fingers curling into his biceps. She makes a low noise in her throat, and Niall pulls away, smirking over at her blushing face. “What do you want for breakfast?” She mumbles, and Niall walks toward the fridge, throwing it open. “Wha’ do you want, Pet? Can make some mean scrambled eggs.” Y/N watches him carefully, Niall working around her kitchen like he’s been there before, crafting himself into her life like it was natural. “Yer starin’.” He turns his back to her as he turns the fire on the stove. “Sorry I just…never had a guy cook me breakfast,” she admits, and Niall throws the eggs into the pan before sitting on the floor, Atti crawling into his lap. “An’ a lad’s never made ya cum with his tongue, Doll think yer just seein’ shit guys. Luckily ya got me now.” Got him. The words make Y/N giddy, but a bout of confusion rises in her head. Niall was the kind of guy who fucked a girl and didn’t open her messages until it was 3AM and he was bored and horny. Y/N’s heard a fair share of things about Niall, small comments thrown out by her sorority sisters, so the entire situation confuses her. “Got all quiet again, love. ‘S goin on?” Niall’s scraping the eggs onto two plates, placing them on the kitchen table and pushing a chair back for Y/N. “Guess I’m just confused about this entire thing. You and me.” She clarifies, and Niall furrows his eyebrows, but remains quiet. “I’ve never been in a friends with benefits situation so it’s kind of new-“

“Friends with benefits?” Niall questions, and Y/N’s breath falters. Stupid, she thinks to herself; maybe he doesn’t want that- and her fingers are clenching so hard around her fork that her knuckles turn white. “I like you. Thought that was quite obvious, Pet? Y’know, when I admitted I was kissin another girl and thinking about you?” Y/N relaxes, and Niall grins over at her.

And it goes like that for weeks; Niall and Y/N study, they go back to her place, he sleeps over. She begins to do much better in Spanish (Niall may or may not have bribed her with a few kisses and a promise to eat her out if her grade improves) and Niall realizes he is completely, utterly in love with her. He’s not sure how to tell her; Y/N makes everything so easy but Niall realizes that she’s so oblivious to it all. It’s not until Niall asks her to accompany him to his frat formal that he says it. Bringing Y/N is the best decision he’s made, he thinks, because her eyes light up and she’s rambling about how she has a dress she never got to wear to Alpha Phi’s formal. And the other sorority girls absolutely sneer at Y/N because she’s the prettiest girl there; and Niall holds her hand a bit tighter when he finds a guy staring a bit too hard at her. “Y/N,” Niall mumbles into her ear in the midst of dinner, and she looks up at him, eyes sparkling and Niall nearly melts. “I’m in love with you,” He speaks softly, and Niall’s not sure if she’s heard him because she’s staring over at him, and the silence on her end scares him. “I love you,” He repeats again; more affirmatively and Y/N’s whole entire body freezes, and Niall thinks he’s stupid for saying it now, when he’s unsure if she loves him back, and his ears are burning, but Y/N only smiles up at him; her hands coming to cup his face. “Jesus, I thought you’d never say it,” She admits, lips coming to press against his. “I love you too. Wanted to tell you when you made me breakfast, ‘m sure I’ve been in love with you since the third day you started tutoring me.” Niall’s heart flutters, and he squeezes her hand, unsure of how he fell in love with the girl he was tutoring; the girl who loves her pug more than anything and the girl who bakes muffins at 3 AM just for the thrill of it all. Niall has no clue, he thinks it’s the best choice he’s ever made.

#Niall Horan #Niall smut #smut #hope you like it! #frat boy! Niall #au #Niall fic #writing

[quack-and-yellow]

Lost in Translation – Roman Bürki One Shot

Warning: nsfw

For the anons requesting Roman Bürki smut. This is my first so please be gentle. Pun intended. :))))

Huge thanks to @nosequeurlusar for the Spanish translation! :)

—

It felt like walking into a dream – and it wasn’t even his wedding. Roman didn’t know how else to describe it. The scene before his eyes was just mesmerizing. All he had to do was take one look, and everything clicked in its right place. A slow song started playing. Fireworks lit up the horizon. A cool evening breeze blew by. His gaze landing on the beautiful woman walking past him. He didn’t notice her at the ceremony earlier or at the pre-wedding party last night. He would have noticed her without a doubt. Ah, but fuck it. It’s not like he should just approach anyone he finds beautiful, right? Some of them should just be admired from afar. But just in case he sees her again…

He nudged Gonzo who was walking beside him with his wife, Jasmin. Julian and Erik followed them. “How do you say, ‘Hello, my name is Roman’ in Spanish?”

“Sorry?” Gonzo said, raising his voice above the pops of the fireworks. 

“The playboy is on the move,” Julian teased, and Erik almost spat out his drink.

Roman ignored the two and repeated the question to Gonzo.

“Hola, me llamo Roman,” Gonzo said promptly.

“Who is she? Where is she?” Erik insisted, his voice louder than Roman would have wanted.

“Shut up,” Roman hissed.

“We’re the only ones speaking German here,” the blond pointed out.

Roman ignored him and kept walking towards their reception table. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, causing Julian to bump right into his hard, broad shoulders.

“What the hell?” Julian said, rubbing his arm.

“T-There’s someone at our table,” Roman said cautiously.

“So? We must be sharing it with someone,” Julian said exasperatedly. “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

“Is that her? The brunette in the green dress?” Erik asked, moving his head to get a better view. “I think I’ve seen her before.”

“Oh come on, you always say that about pretty girls,” Julian said.

“Can you give me a second?” Roman told them, and he started dragging his feet towards the table. He stopped as the brunette looked up.

“Hola, me llamo Roman.” The rush of blood in his ears was so loud, he couldn’t even hear himself speak. He was praying he said it correctly.

“Hola, Roman. Soy Isabel. Gusto en conocerte.” Isabel’s nude pink lips spread into a smile.

“Uhh…” Did she say nice to meet you? How do I respond to it? “Sí.” Shit, that doesn’t sound right.

“¿Encantadora ceremonia, cierto? Marc y Melissa forman una pareja muy hermosa. Estoy honrada de haber sido invitada, a pesar de no conocer a nadie más aquí. ¿Dónde están tus compañeros? ¿Es esta tu mesa también?*” Isabel was speaking quite fast and smiling, and Roman’s brain was going haywire from taking in so much of her all at the same time. Her voice. Her smile. Her striking blue eyes. Her tanned skin that perfectly compliments her aqua-colored dress. Her rich brown hair tucked into a low bun, with a few strands framing her face.

Isabel chuckled and squeezed his arm lightly. “I can speak German and English too. And Italian and French. Whichever you prefer.”

Roman laughed, relieved. “S-Sorry… I… That was rude of me.” He sat down beside her and wiped the cold sweat on his forehead.

“Not at all,” Isabel said politely with a shake of her head. She actually found it charming that he tried.

He felt a smack on his back, making him cringe. He knew he looked stupid and his teammates will give him hell for it.

“Hola,” Julian greeted cheerfully. Beside him, Erik echoed the greeting but in a shy tone. Both of them sat down across Isabel.

“Hola.” Isabel beamed at them. “It seems all from Dortmund are sharing a table. At least I’m no longer alone.”

“You are from Dortmund?” Roman asked, his eyes widening.

“I’m Marc’s and Melissa’s instructor in German. And Mikel’s too.”

“I knew you looked familiar! Mikel showed me your… picture… before…” Erik said, and his voice started to lower when all eyes went to him.

Isabel was surprised but she composed herself and smiled instead. “He did? I didn’t know he have one of me.”

Erik laughed nervously, and Roman glared at him for embarrassing Isabel. An awkward silence took over the table.

“Oh I remember now,” Gonzo spoke up. “Marc mentioned getting an instructor when he moved to Dortmund. He was serious to learn German.”

Isabel nodded, her eyes twinkling. “That’s true! I was quite new to Dortmund that time as well. First, free tickets to home games, and now this.” She motioned at the place with a sigh, followed by a shy laugh. “They are a very nice couple.”

The rest of the table murmured in agreement. Roman loved the dreamy look in her eyes, as if she couldn’t believe her luck finding herself rubbing elbows with famous people. If only she knew that he’s the one who couldn’t believe his luck meeting her here.

***

Roman stuck by Isabel’s side as the evening unfolded, while the rest of his teammates were… he couldn’t care less. He lost them after having their photos taken at the photo booth. He was still wearing his cat ears.

“I don’t get drunk,” she said proudly, downing her eighth glass of margarita. “Back in uni, I won a drinking contest, and all of the other contestants were guys.”

Roman laughed louder than he intended. He was already lightheaded from his own alcohol consumption. “With margarita, sure.”

Isabel walked up to him and leaned closer. “You don’t believe me?”

He felt his breath hitch in his throat. Her smug look was so hot that it shut him up quickly. And that pout was unforgivable.

Isabel took the cat ears he was wearing and put it on her head. She grinned widely like the Cheshire cat. “I like cats.”

“Me too,” he said, even if he doesn’t. He has Cliff. Sorry, Cliff.

She burst out laughing. “I’m not making any sense. Do you want to get some fresh air?”

“I thought you don’t get drunk,” Roman teased.

“I don’t, but Roman Bürki giving me that look is too much for me,” she teased back and Roman, for the second time that evening, didn’t know how to respond. Thankfully she dragged him across the room without waiting for a response.

The evening was pleasantly warm and quiet. The garden up front was empty except for a few guests smoking and chatting. They walked a bit further from them until they reached the side of the building.

“That’s better,” she said, closing her eyes in satisfaction.

Roman watched her eyelids flutter and her chest move as she took a deep breath. Her loose curls swayed slightly, teasing his fingers to run through it. She looked cute and sexy wearing those cat ears.

“How come you know so many languages?” he blurted out, forcing a few unwarranted thoughts into the back of his head.

Isabel laughed at the randomness of his question. “I grew up here in Barcelona and studied in Germany, where my mother is from. I was already in love with languages so I learned them at an early age. But it also helped that I worked a couple of years in France and Italy. Now I’m a translator and an instructor.” 

“Wow,” Roman said. “So what language do you think in?”

She giggled. “German. Sometimes Spanish.”

“I should probably learn Spanish.”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

Roman took a step closer, locking her in his gaze. “So I would understand what you’re thinking.”

Isabel raised an eyebrow. “Can you read minds?”

“I can.” He brought a hand up to her face and brushed his thumb across her cheek.

She responded to his touch by biting her bottom lip. “So what am I thinking right now?”

“That I’m attractive,” he answered. “And hot.”

Isabel burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t thinking that.”

He pouted, giving her a wounded look. “Are you sure? Because I –“

The rest of his sentence was muffled as she pressed her lips against his and wrapped her arms around his neck. Roman grabbed her waist and pushed her against the wall, kissing her back and forcing a tongue into her sweet, warm mouth. When their tongues touched for the first time, Isabel thought her eyes were about to roll back in her head. She gave him a gentle push on the chest. Roman pulled back and looked down at her with hooded eyes.

“Guess you didn’t see that coming,” she whispered with a cocky smile.

Roman smiled back. “You win.”

It didn’t take long before they were at her hotel room, still kissing and only breaking apart to struggle out of their clothes. Roman quickly stripped off his khaki pants, white button down shirt and boxers and tossed his black bowtie somewhere. Isabel was secretly hoping he would keep it on because he looked sexy and funny. Before she could admire his naked body, he spun her around and shoved her against the door, making her gasp. His arms slipped around her waist as he pushed his erection against her ass. He buried his face in her neck while fumbling with the zipper of her A-line dress. His ragged breath was hot against her ear, and she could feel her core getting wet. He tore off her dress finally, leaving her in her lingerie.

Roman spun her again to face him – gently this time – as he unhooked her bra and lowered her panties while kissing every inch of skin being revealed. He pulled back to take off her hairpins and he watched as her curls cascade down to her chest. The sight of her nipples peeking out of her curls made him swallow hard.

Isabel liked the look on Roman’s face as his gaze trailed over her body, but more than that was the heady sight of his nakedness, all hers tonight.

“So are you going to just stand there?” she said boldly.

Roman smirked as he carried her and kissed her all the way to the bed. He was still kissing her when he lowered her to the bed and whispered, “Let me hear you curse in different languages as I fuck you.”

He licked and sucked one nipple after the other and began kissing his way down her body. Isabel moaned as she ran her hands through his hair. He dragged his mouth across her navel, his beard leaving a prickly trail on her skin that was making her toes curl. He parted her legs and let his mouth slide up her thigh, finally landing on her wet folds.

“Oh god!” Isabel screamed as an intense sensation shot up from that spot. She was holding fistfuls of Roman’s hair as he lapped and licked at her clit.

When he was satisfied, Roman climbed back up her body and pressed his lips against hers. He gripped her hips with both hands and took her unapologetically in one swift thrust. She gasped into his mouth, feeling her muscles tighten around him. He brazenly locked eyes with her as he pushed harder and faster, watching her face contort in ecstasy as she came. He buried his face against her neck as he started to tense, and Isabel tightened her legs around him. He groaned with one final shove, and his body jerked with his release. Roman kept groaning as he stilled himself on top of her. After a few minutes, he slowly pulled out of her and crashed on the bed breathless and wordless.

Isabel pulled the sheets to cover herself and rolled to face Roman. Every curve of his muscle was glistening with sweat and his hair was disheveled. He looked hot even when spent. When he noticed her staring at him, he propped himself up on his elbow to see her better.

“What are you thinking?” His other hand caressed her cheek tenderly.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“Read my mind.”

He grinned cheekily. “Well… It was the best sex you’ve ever had.”

Isabel laughed and rolled to the other direction. “I was thinking in Spanish. And you’re wrong.” But she was lying.

—

*Translation: Lovely ceremony, right? Marc and Melissa are a very beautiful couple and I’m honored to be invited, even if I don’t know anyone else here. Where are your teammates? Is this your table too?

#inspired by bartra's beautiful german instructor #it's in a bvb total video #roman bürki #roman bürki one shot #roman bürki imagine #writing smut is draining haha #i'm so drained i couldn't think of a better title #i'm the worst