#italian cafeteria

[fungoideale]

[madphantom]

It's anyone's guess what the fuck is wrong with me but I have a growing suspicion that I might have ARFID because I'd rather starve than touch a raw vegetable with my mouth

[how-to-get-away-with-study]

springtime saturdays 🐥🤍

[evilsanlang]

be the weird hot person you want to see at the mall

[mishkakagehishka]

Same guy who keeps making fun of my accent and who once told me i seem french now insisting i'm italian. Am i being fucking hatecrimed

[paulpingminho]

[quillandwand]

Goulash - Chef John's American Goulash This one-pot cafeteria-style goulash is a comforting mix of ground beef, macaroni, and a seasoned tomato sauce.

[meangirls-imagines]

'ELLO! I wanted to request something simple and angsty but turns into fluff. So basically R was getting bullied in highschool. At the time Regina and R were dating. R and her family got into a car crash. R faked her death after finding out her father passed after waking up in the hospital. Regina visits R grave and states how she's upset that R left her all alone. But when Cady arrives at Northshore. R popped back into town and waltzed into the cafeteria unannounced to Regina. Obviously R gets a slap to the face and a whole bunch of kisses from Regina. R says how she just had to get away from the bullies and Regina can't even be made at her.

Come Back To Me

Description: Reader loves Regina but hates North Shore. People bully her, even knowing who her girlfriend is. To make matters a lot worse, her and her dad are hit by a drunk driver, killing her dad. Reader wakes up in the hospital, heartbroken by the news. She decides to leave, leaving behind Regina, who believes her girl is dead. After a year supposedly "dead", Reader returns to North Shore, shocking everyone, including Regina.

WARNINGS: this is going to be a RIDE, angst with a happy ending, car crash, mention of death, sad regina, mentions of injury, regina slaps reader, fluffy towards the end i promise.

Life sucked for Y/N Y/L/N.

She was a freshman at North Shore High School and ever since middle school, she was mercilessly bullied by her classmates.

She was shoved into lockers on the daily, berated by football players, called slurs and derogatory names. The whole nine yards.

Y/N didn't have a reason to live, or at least that's what she thought. A ray of light entered her life towards the end of seventh grade.

That ray of light was Regina George.

Regina had defended her from a bunch of football boys when they had cornered Y/N after school. They had planned on jumping her but the blonde had stopped it, threatening to tell the principal and make their lives hell.

Since then, Regina hadn't let Y/N out of her sight. Even though the whole school knew not to mess with Y/N, that never stopped them. They just messed with her behind Regina's back. Y/N never told Regina, she didn't want to worry her.

When they got to high school, the bullying got worse. It got more physical. The jocks would always get Y/N when Regina or the plastics weren't around. They always made sure to not bruise somewhere that was visible.

The only one who knew about the bullying was her dad. He had gone to the principal and the school board but since he had no proof, they couldn't do anything. He had been the one to help Y/N with her bruises and injuries. He had been the one she ranted to.

He was her rock.

Nothing could prepare Y/N for what would happen to him.

It all happened so fast. They had gone out to dinner, her dad hoping to lift her mood. He had taken Y/N to her favorite Italian restaurant and taken her to ice cream after. They were waiting at a stoplight, singing loudly to her dad's favorite 80s rock. The light turned green, Y/N felt immense pain, and everything went black.

The next day, Regina walked into school looking at her phone worriedly. She hadst heard from Y/N since yesterday. The last text Y/N had sent her was that her dad was taking her out to dinner. She spotted Karen and Gretchen in the hall and approached them.

"Have you guys heard from Y/N?" The girls shook their heads but before they could speak, Principal Duvall came on the intercom.

"Can I have Regina George, Gretchen Wieners, and Karen Shetty to my office, please. Immediately."

The trio looked at each other confused and headed to his office.

Their parents were waiting for them.

All three girls felt numb listening to the words leaving Duvall's mouth.

Regina screamed as she felt her world collapse around her.

Y/N woke up a few days later, confused to her surroundings. She spotted her grandparents sitting next to her bed. The two burst into tears at the sight of their granddaughter awake. Her grandpa went to get the doctor as her grandmother gently kissed her head.

Y/N felt pain radiating through her body. Her head was wrapped in a thick layer of gauze, her arm was in a cast, as was her left leg. She felt bandages wrapped around her torso and her shoulder. Her mind was foggy so she asked her grandmother what happened.

Her grandmother's breath hitched as her grandpa returned with the doctor. The doctor had gone over the extent of her injuries, explaining that she was hit by a drunk driver.

Then, Y/N asked the question everyone was dreading.

"Where's my dad?"

Y/N's heart dropped and she became numb.

Regina walked up the familiar path, holding a bouquet of pink roses and carnations, her girl's favorite flower.

It had been almost two years since she lost the love of her life. She had felt numb ever since that day in Principal Duvall's office. She had become a shell of her former self. How could she go on? Her other half was dead.

The numbness was constant. She just went through the motions of each day. Get up, go to school, come home, cry, sleep, repeat. Her mom had put her in therapy to help her cope, but it wasn't working. Regina just went to get her mom off her back.

She finally made it to where she was going, gently putting the flowers on the grave.

"Hi baby. It's me again. I miss you more and more everyday. I wish you were still here with me. I never thought I would have to start a school year without you. We've always been together on the first day of school."

Regina sniffled, tears running down her face. "Karen and Gretchen miss you a lot. They miss their gossip buddy. They have so much to tell you. I miss your laugh. I miss your hugs. I miss your kisses. I miss everything about you baby."

She wiped her tears again. "They finally caught that guy that hit you and your dad. The bastard got life in jail. He can rot in hell for all i care." She sobbed quietly.

"It's so hard doing life without you Y/N. I don't think I can do it much longer. I just wanna be with you again. I just wish I could go back in time and change everything. You and your dad would be here." Her phone pinged. She looked down, seeing a text from her mom, informing her that Karen and Gretchen were at their house, ready for their annual first day sleepover.

She smiled and wiped her tears again. "That's my cue baby. I wish I could stay longer. I'll be back tomorrow to tell you all about it." She kissed her fingers and gently touched the stone. "I love you baby."

She walked away from the tombstone, heading to her jeep and heading home. Her, Karen, and Gretchen all cried together that night. They were not prepared for what was going to happen tomorrow.

Y/N woke up the next morning, feeling nervous. She was going back to North Shore. She had convinced her mom and stepdad to move back to the district. Her mom had called the school and explained everything to them, from the car crash to now.

The school was very understanding and got Y/N re-enrolled quite quickly. Her mom came into her room after she got dressed. "You ready, baby?" Y/N nodded and took a deep breath. "Mom? What if she's moved on?"

Her mom came and hugged her. "If she's moved on, she's moved on. Baby, she's been under the impression that you died, remember? She can't be faulted for moving on. But just know, that girl loved you so much. I don't think she's moved on, sweetie."

Y/N nodded and took another deep breath.

"Okay. Let's do this."

Regina walked into North Shore, Karen and Gretchen flanked behind her. They all walked to Regina's locker. Gretchen felt her phone buzz, indicating a text. "Ooh! We have a couple new students!" Her thumbs began typing back a reply as Regina smirked.

"New students? Interesting." The bell interrupted them as they all went their separate ways. Cady Heron was waiting in the office for her schedule when a girl came walking into the office. She shyly waved at the girl who smiled brightly back.

"Hi, I'm Cady Heron!"

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you, Cady."

The two chatted as the school secretary came with their schedules, the woman welcoming Y/N back to the school. Cady looked at her confused. "I thought you were new?" Y/N shrugged. "It's a long story. Let me show you where your homeroom is."

After showing Cady to her homeroom, she waltzed into her homeroom, the teacher barely sparing a glance at the girl. The students however, began talking, jaws dropped at the girl who apparently rose from the dead.

News spread like wildfire and by lunch, everyone was talking about it. When Regina sat down, Gretchen told her that everyone was saying a girl that looked just like Y/N was one of the new students. Regina scoffed. "Yeah, I'll be the judge of that. Y/N was one of one Gretchen."

The blonde stopped Gretchen from talking as she saw Cady walk into the cafeteria. Curiosity got the better of her as she called the girl over. She began to make small talk with the short girl, liking her already.

The conversation was cut short by Gretchen screaming. "OH MY GOD!" She got up and took off running to the newest student to walk into the cafeteria. Regina couldn't see who she was hugging but Karen could and also screamed before running in the same direction Gretchen did.

The blonde excused herself from the shorter girl to see what the ruckus was about. As she got closer, she froze in her tracks.

No. It couldn't be.

Regina's heart began to race as Gretchen and Karen pulled away from the stranger. Then, Regina made eye contact with familiar Y/E/C eyes.

Y/N.

The girl smiled at the blonde, her heart racing at seeing her girlfriend for the first time in a long time.

"Hi Gina." Regina shook herself out of her stupor, walking up to Y/N and slapping her. Hard. The cafeteria went silent and Y/N went to speak but was cut off by Regina's lips.

Regina felt her world become complete again as her and Y/N kissed for the first time in almost a year. Y/N could taste the saltiness of Regina's tears but she didn't care. She missed Regina.

The two kissed for a couple more minutes before Regina pulled away and placed kisses all over Y/N's face and burying her face in Y/N's neck.

"I thought I lost you. Don't EVER fucking do that again." Y/N smiled and kissed Regina's temple. "Never again baby. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere." The plastics lead Y/N to their table to explain everything.

By the time Y/N was done explaining, the three girls were sobbing. Regina was clinging to Y/N's side. "I'm so sorry you went through that baby. But I'll never let it happen again. I'll protect you. I'm sorry I didn't do more baby." Y/N shook her head. "It's not your fault baby. The past is in the past. I'm here. Let's focus on the now."

The girls nodded, Regina gently kissing a scar on Y/N's cheek.

The bell rang and the girls reluctantly parted from Y/N, with the promise of seeing the couple after school. Regina didn't wanna let go, she didn't want it to be a dream. She offered to skip, which Y/N reluctantly went with, making sure to shoot her mom a text as to what was happening.

Regina led Y/N to her jeep, and drove to her house.

After a tearful reunion with Regina's mom, and a couple of rounds of "I missed you" sex, the two laid in bed in comfy clothes. Regina traced shapes on Y/N's stomach, her head laying on the girl's chest.

"I thought I lost you forever, baby. I never want go through that again." Y/N kissed Regina's head, pulling her closer. "I know baby. And I'm so sorry. But I'm not going anywhere ever again. You're stuck with me."

Regina giggled and kissed Y/N gently.

"I can live with that."

[playboysaleen]

Kalopisa.

Kalopisa: (n.) The delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are. 

Parings: Victoria Neuman x Supe!Reader (GN) (Slight AU)

Chapter One - Chapter Two

Summary: You never had the best life. Being abducted at a young age, being raised in the most wanted mafia as a weapon, hell- becoming the most feared in the gang. But…Truth is, you only wanted freedom. Being able to wake up and not have to wonder if you were going to see the sunset again. What happens when your wish partially comes true and you are offered your freedom but at what cost? Oh, you’ll see. 

Warnings: Death, Swearing, and supes dawg.

Word Count: 2.5k (Shits not proof read.)

Slight AU.  Slight German and Italian dialect. Reader does have a french accent. 

I just had to write about my girl I cant get her out of my head and im swooning over every little thing i see on all my timelines. AND the audacity for her to pop up in my dream just confirmed it for me to write this. my other fic Metanoia just helped me come up with a good plot for this one. I hope you all enjoy and bare with me on this one. RIP my shawty bae.

___________________________________

“Boss is waiting for you in his office.” 

You fluttered your eyes open, adjusting from the bright lamp that lit the small room you laid in. Swinging your feet over the small cot, you leaned over placing your elbows on your knees. What the fuck does he want now? Another family shredded to bits? Another Cocaine bust? Yawning, you rubbed the remaining blood that was stained on your arms- you just wanted to sleep ‘forever’. You stood on your feet sending the buff man a nod walking out your room into the hallway as he followed you. 

“Boss is very happy man with what you done last night.” He spoke as the both of you made way through the corridors into the ‘cafeteria’. Sending your hellos with a nod to the men cleaning weapons a man stood up waving the two of you down. 

“Danill, did you give boss the news?” Alexi asked. Rolling your eyes, Dani grumbled out something to the man which sent him planting his feet yelling out, 

“Das kann doch nicht dein Ernst sein!” (You can’t be serious) Danill placed a hand against your chest stopping your walk to the private hall. He sent you a look which you nodded turning on your heels walking to the man. Everyone went quiet and the only thing that could be heard was the echo of your combat boots against the concrete floor. Sending the man a tight lipped smile, your hand gripped his jaw staring deep into his orbs. 

“Why don’t you sit back down and clean those guns you depend on huh?” You whispered looking between both his eyes. You could smell the fear coursing through his veins, his body began to squirm under your stare, he sent you a nod as you let him go.

“Get back to fucking work.” You grumbled out which he cowered away back to his table with the rest of his workers. You started back walking to the door that was guarded by two men, Dani sent them a nod causing them to move out the way. Walking down the long hall, you turned to Dani hearing his heartbeat speed up. 

“Something is not right.” He whispered, the door coming in view. Grabbing the door handle, the hairs on your arms rose. Looking back at Dani, heat engulfed you as you were blown back into the wall. You laid under a pile of rubble, alarms blaring all around you- everyone was on their feet. Gunshots were heard and the smell of blood was loud. 

“FBSA!” Someone yelled out. Using the strength you have left, you moved the pillar that was laid on top of you, moving it across the hall. Groaning at the pain now subsiding, you limped to the bosses room looking out the window to see nothing but war.  

“Alptraum.” You turned to see Danill leaning against the doorframe. He sent you a light nod holding his lower abdomen. Blood swarmed your nostrils when your eyes widen, 

“Go, this is your time.” You saw blood spilling from his lips as he spoke. All you could do is nod, his body dropped against the floor when you grabbed the iron bars from the window swiftly yanking it off. Sitting on the windowpane with one foot out, you heard footsteps and comms from Americans. You huffed taking one last look at Danill’s lifeless body dropping out the window onto the moist grass. You sprinted the scene as fast and discreetly as possible. 

After running a few miles, your head was filled on what to do- better yet who to call. Placing your hood on top of your head to shield what you could for your identity. A view of a diner was seen a few yards down from your position. Huffing, you adjusted your hood walking down to the front doors, looks were thrown your way with the blood, debris and injuries that were visible. Leaning against the bar, you sent a look towards the man taking orders from the couple just a few chairs down. 

“You look like you got in a fight with the Seven.”  A young boy joked out in front of you. Eyeing his work attire, you grabbed a fist full of his shirt pulling him centimeters from your face. 

“I will send your head directly to the Seven if you press that button.” You whispered, both your eyes and his slowly moved down over the register where his finger hovered over the red button. You stared back when he looked up flashing him a wide smile. The color drained from his face when he saw the large fangs poking out your gums. 

“Give me your phone….now.” You gritted out, he nodded, removing his hand from the button grabbing the phone from his pocket, placing the device on the table. You grabbed the device shoving it into your pocket letting go of the boys uniform. You gave him one more smile backing out the diner to the side of the building. You fumbled the phone out of your pocket dialing the only number you could remember. The line rang until you heard the voice you didn't think would bring a small smile out of you. 

“de quoi avez-vous besoin?” (What do you need?) He mumbled out. Clanging and banging was heard in the background, this man never catches a break. 

“Cela fait longtemps Frenchie.” (It’s been a while Frenchie.)  You spoke looking around, a loud bang was heard then silence. 

“Cauchemar.” 

You chuckled nodding, 

“The one and only.” You breathed out, making your way across the street. He laughed softly through the phone when you heard hurried footsteps. 

“Where are you kid?” You looked around, giving him the street sign and diner name. An engine roared and tires screeching was heard from the phone, you hummed leaning against the wall feeling the adrenaline fade. 

“Please hurry.” You begged when the weight of the phone was too overbearing to hold causing it to drop onto the ground. Your legs bucked as you slid down the wall sitting onto the ground. You could hear Frenchie on the phone asking if you were okay. You hummed letting the black dots swarm your vision. 

≈☆≈

“Oui, who the fuck is laying on your therapy couch M.M?” A voice was heard awaking you from your slumber. You lifted your head eyeing the man speaking, Frenchie stood from his stepping in front of the man with his hands up. M.M handed you a water bottle in which you kindly accepted, grabbing the top of the bottle you struggled to open due to the shaking in your hands. 

A hand was placed on top of yours when you turned to face a woman sending you a small smile. She carefully took the bottle from your hands, opening it with ease. Damn PTSD. 

      “You brought a stray from the street so Kimiko can have herself a friend?” the man spoke out pointing your way, you rolled your eyes sending Kimiko a look. 

She started moving her hands, tilting your head trying to grasp what was going on. Frenchie appeared behind her, sending her a smile while you heard M.M and the other man walk out. 

  “Forgive Butcher, he is ah… “ he started but Kimiko (you're assuming) signed and you snorted. 

                  “an asshole?” you whispered. Kimiko nodded happily, patting Frenchies' arms. Frenchie smiled nodding, pointing your way. 

“Now you got your rest, what happened?” Frenchie whispered taking a seat next to you. You placed your head in your hands groaning softly. 

“FBSA infiltrated the underground.” You answered still in your same position. The underground was your home for as long as you could remember. Everything was ‘perfect’ in your eyes. Well, they clothed you. Put food in your stomach and gave you everything you needed to feel at home but everything comes with a price right? You’ve grown used to walking back to your room (A literal cell but with shit load of space and air conditioning.) soaked in blood. Your thrist was quenched, but more lives were added to your book that you took. The cries still echoed in the back of your mind but after your first real interaction it all became numb. Walking into some italian home during a night of a full thunderstorm after slaughtering and draining the entire malitia that had the entire area guarded. You could remember the cries of a woman who cradled her dead child with the other staring at you with pleading eyes. The man had a gun to the childs head speaking non-sense but everything turned dark when the triggered was pulled and you were too late. You were ordered to kill all but it left a foul taste in your mouth when you turned away from the mans body that the blood began to soak the very exspensive carpet to see the mother staring back at you. She begged you to kill her. You could remember her cries, 

“Prendi la mia vita!” (Take my life!)

“Lasciami stare con i miei figli.” (Let me be with my children.)

You lost it that night. You watched the sun peak from the horizon as the storm clouds evaporated from the sky till Danill was at your door again escorting you to the boss for your next body to kill… and drain. 

“Merda…well you are safe now.” Frenchie spoke giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. You sent him a nod burying your head into his chest. Frenchie was like a big brother when he was doing his time with the underground. From him teaching you how to disassemble firearms when you were in your early teenage years to watching you shove a partial AK-47 into a mans throat that had the intent on ending Frenchies life. 

“I heard all of the things going on,” You spoke standing up walking to his desk grabbing the handgun examining the faded stickers. You chuckled softly waving the firearm his way, he snorted shaking his head, “I hope this still has the powers you used to tell me about.” 

Frenchie huffed out a laughter signing something to Kimiko which she smiled softly your way, you sent her a bashful nod. The door opened revealing a very stressed Hugie and- 

“Huh, I did not know you worked for the Seven Frenchie, c'est super” (that’s great) you mumbled out sending a glare towards the woman in her normal attire. Hugies eyes widen jogging your way, 

“Long time no see huh.” Hugie laughed out bringing you into a hug, you accepted but once you seen the womans stare you slightly released. 

“I used to buy some tech from his store.” You mumbled at Frenchies fatherly stare. Hugie used to be the only friend you could talk to outside the underground. Your daily runs to the store for more techware for the guys lead to you leaning against the front desk laughing at his horrible dad jokes. Hugies expression soon changed once he connected the dots, 

“You’re a supe…” He whispered. You nodded patting his back, turning to the woman sending her a glare, 

“But it is funny how you hated them and here you are banging one.” Frenchie chuckled but quickly wrapped his arms around you when the girl infront of you took a step forward. 

“Alright, what’s your fucking problem?” The woman seethed trying to lock her gaze behind a panicking Hugie. You sent her a tight lipped smile, 

“Oh, I did not know THE starlight had a mouth on her.” You joked but coughed when Frenchie sent a warning finger into your side. He sent you a look which you stood straight nodding. What? You could go all day getting under this little twinklers skin but Frenchie was family and you did not want to make his friends your enemies. You raised your hands, surrendering. 

“Okay, désolé.” (sorry) you mumbled taking a step away from Frenchie sending Annie a nod and an extending hand. “No more. I can not make enemies with Frenchies little family.” You spoke out sincerely to which she shook your hand not without getting in a very tight squeeze. 

“So, what brings you here?” Hugie spoke out, you looked over to Frenchie as he answered for you and decided to give your whole life story too. You wandered around the office building sending them a nod or a tight lipped smile every now and then till you heard Frenchie slip up a little more than what needed to be said, 

“Enough Frenchie, I think they have all the background they need on me.” You argued, Frenchies mouth shut when Hugie, Annie and Kimikos eyes were on you. You hated the stares but with the new information they knew…who knows. 

“You guys got a new plan to take down Homelander is what I am hearing.” A voice was heard from the door when all eyes turned. Your vision blurred and the overbearing feeling of anger bubbled in your chest. 

“Neuman. What a surprise.” Frenchie mumbled out dropping onto his chair rolling his eyes. You darted towards the woman bumping Kimikos shoulder in the process of her trying to stop you. Placing a hand around the womans neck you shoved her against the wall, everyone went into panic mode. 

“You…killed Malina.” You gritted out pushing your hand deeper into her neck when you noticed her face turning purple. Her eyes turned white but a sinister smiled painted yours when you leaned closer placing your lips near her ear. 

“Your little powers do not work on me mon amour,” You whispered, her eyes were now back to normal filled with fear when your eyes ran over her face, “I am a blood drainer, not a blood storer.” You removed your hand from her neck watching her slide down the wall but kept her eyes locked onto yours. Taking a few steps back, you stared at her in disgust when she stood to her feet pointing your way. 

“I do not recall such name.” She argued, you rolled your eyes dismissing her ability to rile you up. You shook your head, walking to the couch taking a seat next to a surprised Kimiko. 

“I am not going to waste my time with a murderer.” you mumbled out and right on que Butcher and M.M walked in. Everyone was in complete shock at what just happened, Butcher looked around the room looking for some sort of answer. 

“Looks like you all got your tongues scraped out, no offense Kimiko.” He sent a smile to the girl who glared his way. 

“Vicky just tried to blow Frenchies friends head and well, she can’t.” Hughie spoke, M.M and Butcher turned to you with wide eyes. 

“Well, what do we have here.” Butcher sang out making his way towards where you were now seated at the windowpane. You flashed him your fangs which he stopped smiling.

“A bloody vampire.” 

“I am called many things.” You started looking out at the window watching the waterdroplets paint the glass. “Cauchemar, Koshmar, Alptraum, der Teufel, other names that make this gift I have a sickness but I will stop at nothing to kill Homelander.” You finished turning your way to the people watching you. Everyone held a different look but you couldn’t stop your eyes locking on to the one person you wanted to drain every last drop of blood stored within them. 

Victoria Neuman.

[afreakingdork]

Spring Break

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader One-Shot

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, POV Second Person, Friends to Lovers, Human/Turtle Relationships (TMNT), Yearning, Romance, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, One-Shot

Synopsis: You're on your first spring break of college and returning back home to NYC. Donnie has agreed to pick you up from the airport and the season of change is ready to exercise its rights upon your friendship with him.

Also available on Ao3

I cannot thank @tmntxthings enough! She took my half formed plot bunny and helped me finish it up and embellish it with the cutest ideas!! This fic would not exist without her and she gets my endless affection! 💞

Plane descent, it was the one part of flying that really felt like a roller coaster. With its little dips and adjustments, your stomach would rise in turn. It made some sick, but you found it exciting. It was a manifestation of coming home. With each drop in altitude you were a little bit closer and, no matter how people felt about plane rides, the excitement was palpable. Even those tired and exhausted, ready for their changeovers, were glad for a moment on the ground.

This was your stop and you were especially excited for what waited for you.

Clinging to your phone, there was a final announcement and you looked out the window. Watching fields and houses grow closer and closer, your heart alternatively soared. Ants took on definition and eventually you were doing the careful careen through buildings to land in LaGuardia. With a squeaky landing that jarred your body, people stood through the taxiing process which prompted fights with flight attendants.

You were back in New York City.

A fervor running throughout the plane, there was still the docking process and each second ticked by through syrup until you got a text.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: I am at the appropriate baggage claim.

It was a new entry in a sea of others that had you momentarily closing your eyes. You then typed out a response about what you’d endured since landing and Donnie kept you occupied with messages right up until it was time to deboard. Bumping and jostling and giving appropriate glares back, you were soon just shy of running down a tunnel. Just like descent, you were closing in by the moment and once you broke free from a certain pair of doors, you paused only to take stock. It was fate, you thought, that people parted and there he was.

Donatello stood bundled up both for some kind of anonymity and the early spring weather. A balmy cool outside, trees were clinging for a bit more warmth before they burst with color. You were going to miss the blossoms this time around, but you had a lifetime of watching the petals dot the otherwise dirty streets before. You always liked this season. There was a sense of change in the air. A metamorphosis, you saw not just the growth between your youth and now, but everything from the last half year. 

You were offered a full ride to a school all the way across the country. 

You accepted and left behind everything. 

The long days of your first semester would have been lonely if not for a certain purple coded turtle offering to marathon shows with you online.

You texted in the cafeteria until you found your crowd.

You continued to message him because he had to know the latest gossip.

A webcam was sent to you as a gift so you could better work on projects together across multiple state lines.

You clung to Donnie as a virtual lifeline through your first set of finals.

The Christmas holdover in California due to a lab opportunity had been a daunting choice. 

It was made all the better as you were given a digital spot at the Hamato family table during Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Then came another bout of studying for midterms. 

All to now, where he’d offered to pick you up after something had come up with your parents and you had complained of the taxi fare on your spring break budget.

You were in motion.

In fact, you were barreling towards him. He heard the footsteps, but didn’t connect them to your person as he looked up. Now knowing the source, he jammed his phone in his pocket and took on a sort of prepared alarm. Then, at the last second, he pivoted a foot out. A careful rotation, he lowered his stance into a readied one. It was all the confirmation you needed as you leapt.

He caught you at the same time for the hug and you crushed yourself to him. Momentum should have knocked the air out of you, but he swung. Your body twirled up with your heart and, by the time you were set down, you were groping to get more of him. This was new, you remembered. His scent wasn’t like coming home. You’d never been close enough to really get a whiff. Clinging to his worn hoodie didn’t crop up memories of softness because you had at most brushed it in passing.

You’d known this mutant for seven months and this was your first hug.

You wanted more.

Your only saving grace was he appeared to feel the same. For each tug, to get your arms tighter around his neck, he gave equal pressure around your waist. As you butted your head to his, he clawed into your own jacket, trying to get you that much closer.

It was warm.

It was overwhelming.

You didn’t want to let go.

“Hey.” You murmured against him.

“Greetings.” His voice responded. “How was your flight?”

“Good. Boring. Long.” You nuzzled closer.

“A full work day’s flight.” Donnie hummed, amused.

“Thanks for picking me up. It’s good to see you.”

Finally, after what must have been too long, Donnie pulled back enough to view you with a chide. “You as well.”

A little shy, your arms slipped to rest against his plastron and an announcement interrupted citing luggage. A quick check found you were at the right carousel and you sent Donnie a wry look. “We’re in the right place.”

“I was clear about my location.” He playfully rolled his eyes and reluctantly relinquished you to approach the long luggage circle.

You followed close behind and bumped arms with him. “Oh, there was this lady who would not stop yaking about the toast squares she got in that plane snack mix.”

“Ah, yes, the snack gacha.” Donnie chuckled and bags began to drift down the line.

He explained the odds and you walked him backwards through your trip. There was a gap from when you’d set off for your flight until arrival. He’d been on a video call when you’d packed your suitcase so when said luggage came winding down the metal slide, you didn’t need to say a thing. He knew it and hoisted it up where you shouldered your backpack. You’d returned with mostly things to wash, but you figured that was part of coming home.

You soon drifted away from the building. Working through the bustling drop offs zone, you headed to where Donnie had sequestered one of his vehicles. Parking cost too much for the tank, he settled on something visually low key though the interior was just as technologically stacked as the others. It was a resistance in temptation to press buttons on the dash you had never seen. They felt familiar as he’d taken you on a phone tour when he completed retrofitting the van, but it felt different in person.

Conversation took you home and, before you realized it, you were idling on the street.

Time had slipped through your fingers like water and you hadn’t cupped enough to drink. There’d even been traffic, you’d sat through it, but it hadn’t prolonged the journey. You were due inside. Your parents were waiting. You also would need to leave Donnie. He’d only ever been here to give you this ride. Heart sinking regardless, you moved to give Donnie your regards with a forlorn tilt of your head.

“Let me help you with your bag.” He rushed the statement.

Your eyes met.

You were both a little too eager to delay the inevitable.

“Thank you, I’d appreciate it.” You told him though your heart wanted to ask him over for dinner.

You’d already skipped coming home for winter break and there was no way your parents would allow an interloper to impede on catching up with their child.

You were required to spend time with them first, then friends.

Duty was a strange thing. It brought you home to mom even though you were an adult with a supposed choice. It had your friend hoisting your stuffed suitcase out of the back of a van where you had created the burden of the heft. You clicked up stairs, your luggage wheels hopping steps and Donnie felt the need to fill the space as if he were required to keep from giving you a moment of quiet.

You were thankful.

You didn’t want to think of how you’d miss him.

Again, he’d felt the same. 

You liked that about him.

Reaching your door, you knew you hadn’t messaged your parents for this same reason.

It was your own coveted surprise amongst what you had to do.

Donnie was careful in carting your suitcase up silently.

It felt like a stolen moment. “We still on for Wednesday?”

“Yes.” He nodded and pulled up a ninpo calendar for the sake of it. “Mikey has forewarned Señor Hueso and if you make April wait a moment more, I think she will strangle whoever is closest.”

“Of course.” You bobbed your head and felt the reminder of the knob.

You needed to go home.

You needed to see your parents.

You hadn’t seen them in so long.

You hugged Donnie.

Slower this time, you still moved quick enough that you avoided the awkward shuffle. It was an instant threading of bodies where you had to stave off a sigh. You fit so well without practice and his toned arms slung so comfortably around your waist. You bumped your head to his for the sake of closeness. He stilled and you thought it too much until he turned his beak to nuzzle the side of your head. From his inhale, he was catching your smell so you openly breathed him in the same.

Then you came apart, heads down, unable to bear to see the other leave as you mumbled out promises of seeing each other soon.

Donnie left by the sound of stairs and you unearthed your key to head inside.

Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough.

The rest of your Saturday had been a flurry of catching up with your folks. You were pelted with every question under the sun and the few phone calls with them you’d had throughout the school year seemed to have never happened. Your parents remembered none of the details no matter how much you whined about how you’d already told them about your class load. You were struck with backhanded comments about missing the holidays and how this cousin had proposed and that nephew had gone skiing and would you believe the tan your aunt got?

Then came sleeping in your old bed which was now a foreign one.

You called Donnie with your headphones on and he answered after only one ring.

Unable to stand the odd sheets, you curled up beside your window for faint outdoor light and watched Donnie on screen eat snacks as you unloaded about how annoying it all was. You loved your parents, but it was always something. He took his time in the conversation after your most heated complaints were air cooled and then subjected you to his own. His family’s separation anxiety was on another level, but he never made it a competition. You instead felt commiseration, even if the comparisons were outlandish.

Exhaustion took you to bed and the old smell of you drifted up like one you didn’t recognize. You were just tired enough to mention the discrepancy and Donnie made a comment on how you’d changed. You weren’t sure you had as you hadn’t felt like it, but you guessed of anyone, he would know best.

How had that come to be?

Your best friend was here and someone you’d known since elementary school. You still loved them, but they’d fallen to a certain wayside once Donnie appeared. Meeting him had been an accident at best. From senior year finals, you’d picked up a local coffee shop as your own. During summer, you switched to drinks for fun instead of necessity and a new barista started that you liked. She was great at conversation and better at upsizing drinks with a wink so you always made sure to tip. There came a day when you forgot to have cash on hand and you promised to come back by to fork it over. Now on a first name basis, April had scoffed it off, but you still returned after making change at a nearby bodega. It hadn’t been more than 20 minutes and yet she had disappeared. You waited for her to return from break only to notice a mutant was similarly off to the side and one you’d come to find was waiting for the same April. 

That was early August.

You’d gone to UC Berkeley in early September.

That was less than a month knowing the turtle in person.

Now you were drifting off to Donnie complaining about how he’d been found sneaking into East Laird’s lab yet again.

He just needed access to one chemical.

They wouldn’t miss it.

He’d doctored the supply sheets himself.

The janitor was paranoid.

You giggled and it must have come too late because he ordered you to sleep.

You told him you missed him.

In truth, you did.

He murmured the same along with a mention of Wednesday.

It wasn’t here yet.

Texting helped as Sunday led straight to a family meal with whoever was in town. You rehashed the exact same stories about school more times than you could count. Your scholarship was both held up like a heavyweight champ’s belt while others spoke to you like you were some Hollywood convert. It didn’t matter that there were six driving hours between the two places. You’d betrayed some inane state pride by going to a far flung college and whether that was a success or pompous choice was your family’s to debate.

You went to bed so angry afterward that you broke your 125 day streak of saying goodnight to Donnie.

You woke up under your old ceiling.

Breakfast reminded you of high school.

Dad had work.

Mom had lunch.

She talked and you listened.

You saw your best friend in the 3 o’clock doldrums.

It was awkward until it wasn’t.

It took about an hour, but you fell in line to your old pattern.

You meant to message your bestie more, but college had taken both of you in different directions.

Who’s this guy you keep mentioning? 

Donatello, was it?

Did you meet someone?

What a story that was and it came with a growing smile from your best friend. Each passing word felt like guilt off your lips and you were teased mercilessly.

No, stop that! We aren’t dating!

Why would you ask?

It’s perfectly normal to help a friend out like he did.

Yes, we’re close.

Not that close.

He’s a nice guy.

Yes, really nice, what are you insinuating?

It wasn’t like that.

You wanted to call Donnie on your way home.

Your best friend’s words kept you from it.

Tuesday your dad had off from work and, though they took you, you ended up showing your parents around Prospect Park. Where they’d only heard it was nice, you had seen enough from social media to actually maneuver it. You picked a restaurant they hated and then a bakery they loved. You were nagged incessantly and then pestered.

Tell us about your new college friends!

You don’t sound like you have many, what happened?

Oh, whos’ that?

Tell me more!

Are they nice?

Go to any crazy parties? We won’t judge.

They did.

They judged everything.

You kept Donatello’s name out of your mouth, though he appeared with each question.

He kept you sane.

He had been there for you.

He made things better.

You texted him as you ran to a bathroom stall for a moment of peace.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Hard to go back after your taste of freedom?

It was such a him response. 

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Tomorrow, you’ll have us.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Don’t worry.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Until then, say the word and I can call you away with a lab emergency.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: I know the codes for several. Do not ask why.

It helped as you rejoined your parents.

One more day.

Wednesday morning and afternoon were tedious affairs with little to do outside of the dreaded laundry. You aired and disinfected your suitcase and ended up cleaning for the sake of it. It made your mom happy and you prepped ingredients for your parent’s dinner even though you wouldn’t be partaking. It would be another nicety in hopes that they wouldn’t say a word when you stayed out late.

It wasn’t like you had a curfew, but you knew the biting remark would be there.

You left just before your parents got home so you sent messages to both of them to cover your bases. Their sent confirmation was like a final school bell and you were running down stairs at an alarming pace. Donnie’s text window appeared next and you shot out a message about your imminent arrival. You felt a buzz in response and wound an oddly familiar path to the necessary sewer grate. One prepped for access to the turtle’s tunnel, you climbed down and only then brought up a map. Above was one thing as you knew your local streets, but the journey below was one you’d never had time to memorize. Donnie’s map was clear and as you switched from sewer to subway lines, you soon came to the brighter lights of the lair.

The Hamato were piled in the living room and you saw Donnie amongst the bale.

He smiled, but it was Mikey who wrapped around you.

Your name was shouted and it summoned the others who hadn’t been paying as much attention. You got friendly pats, several more squeezes from Mikey, one bear hug from April, and a litany of pelted words from the others. Leo’s Hollywood comment didn’t sting as much because he pulled it out in a reference to Son in Law. He did a pretty good Pauly Shore impression and your praise had him pulling out more impersonations. As the chides and jokes flew, you thought about how they hadn’t pelted you with a million and one questions about your college life. They cared little about class and only if you’d had time to catch any local movies or shows.

You nearly wept at not having to talk about only the studious side of your life and you got to share a movie you recently streamed with Donnie. The others hadn’t known either of you watched it and you both excitedly regaled them on reasons not to without spoiling anything. You laughed about a plot line of having been plucked from their environment and joked about red squirrels. Donnie responded in kind about grey and you both laughed until you realized you were the only ones.

“What’s that about?” April asked where she was folded over a couch beside Raph.

“O-oh, it’s-!” You choked on giggles and held onto Donnie’s arm since he was close.

“You see, there was this inane test question that kept coming up.” Donnie filled in for you.

“Non-native grey squirrels have basically put native red ones on the endangered list!” You spoke with too much levity for the topic.

“Now this is a known ecological issue, but the way the professor framed the question…?” Donnie shook his head with a smile.

“He made it out to be like a gang war! So-so Donnie made this joke because they always, freaking always run out of breakfast in the caf when I get out of my morning class about my territory being disrupted!” You giggled.

Donnie bumped you to chastise. “Wait, you’re leaving out your classmate who runs to beat you there, your grey squirrel!”

“Omigosh! I don’t even know her name!” You cracked up.  

“You’ve yet to mention the actual campus grey squirrel!” Donnie pressed.

You laughed harder. “Omigosh, he hates me and anyone that goes near his door on South Hall!!”

You both hurled more examples that fit into your branching squirrel joke and you thought everyone was having a good time until Raph’s voice cut through. “Sounds like a good inside joke.”

You weren’t immediately sobered, but your giggles grew strange.

“Yeah, I’m not getting it, but hey that happens.” Leo shrugged. “Squirrels aren’t my first comedy punching bag.”

“They’re cute! What do you mean they kill each other!?” Mikey had a watery expression. “To extinction!? How could they!?”

April patted his back. “It’s a dog eat dog world.”

“Is that why we were the Mad Dogz?” Leo looked to Raph.

“No, but I’m going to say yes.” Raph shined back a snaggletoothed grin.

With that the others moved on.

Suddenly feeling painfully self-conscious, you shirked and felt that Donnie’s hand behind your back.  

You looked up at him and he had a grin and whisper waiting for you. “These dum-dums don’t know good comedy.”

“You are the funny one.” You softened up and, in an instant, felt reassured.

He pressed lightly for you to join the room and you jumped back into the conversation which had moved onto pigeons. A hotly debated topic, you took sides and spouted facts you had learned in class. Memes were then shared and eventually you went to Hueso’s. The rowdiest table for what was a comical argument about whether they were his favorite customers, the skeleton yokai refused to answer and only spoke of cash spent and tabs to be paid. Leo chased the man into the kitchen to be his usual intrusive self and you stayed present in table conversation the best you could.

It was difficult when Donnie kept sending you reaction images based on said speech and you found it impossible not to reach right for your phone so each joke would land fresh. It eventually meant both of you were side by side texting on another and it was only when the food came did you jar out of it.

“Can’t leave your significant others for even a second?” Mikey jeered before he tapered off. “Though I kind of thought it was you that Donnie was texting… But that’d be weird right!? You’re literally sitting together, why text?” He laughed. 

Others laughed.  

You and Donnie didn’t. 

It spurned April to steal Donnie’s phone.

Some kind of betrayal, Donnie nearly flipped the table to get it back, but the flash of screen April had seen was enough.

You two were outed and ruthlessly drilled.

This was supposed to be fun, you thought to yourself as you tried to field lobs. They weren’t supposed to be rude like your family and yet you were back to fending vultures off. 

Yes, you spent hours talking.

No, you weren’t dating.

Yes, you texted.

No, it wasn’t because it was a secret conversation.

Yes, you were just friends.

No, you weren’t more.

It was only when Leo reappeared and saw the distress mounting on you and Donnie did he step up in his leader position and caught the table’s attention by the throat. He laid out a new topic in the form of recent battles and that conversation took the heat off. You sighed into the booth, feeling particularly drained and when Leo shoved in to have more seat, it bumped you right into Donnie.

Donnie made room, but his hand stayed on the seat, close to yours.

You tapped a questioning finger to his. 

Your heart was heavy.

Were you wrong?

Was your friendship weird?

Donnie had gotten you through moving across the country.

Donnie had done so much.

You really, really liked him.

His finger curled around yours for reassurance.

You’d asked once hadn’t you?

Something about if you bothered him early on since you talked just about constantly.

Donnie had scoffed by saying the word itself and told you that he put forth as much effort as he cared to.

You’d be the first to know if he was displeased.

He’d been honest.

When you complained about a science he liked, he didn’t care how hard the class was, you got an earful.

One of the few times you’d tried to use him as an excuse not to study, he’d hung right up and temporarily blocked you so you’d be forced to.

Your hands moved and, with a rush of your pulse, you tucked your other fingers up and over his.

He held your hand with one and ate pizza with his other as if nothing strange had occurred.

You did the same and spoke more normality by responding to something Mikey said.

It was taken with its own retort and everything felt right.

“I’m stuffed!” April flopped back and her jacket slunk down lazily on her shoulders.

“Can’t… move…” Raph groaned.

“That’s what happens when you are here for four hours and thirty seven minutes ordering non-stop.” Hueso commented as he picked up several empty pizza trays.

“One for the road?” Leo burped.

“Depends…” Hueso cracked a brow and slid over the check.

Leo flicked his eyes down once and then over to his tablemates where everyone dodged the question.

“Maybe next time.” Leo spoke guilt and Hueso hummed knowingly as he departed. “Split time! Cough it up!”

Complaints were loud as all sorts of money was deposited on the table.

“I love and hate catching up!” Leo crooned once an appropriate amount was placed. 

“We were literally here four days ago.” Raph didn’t have the energy to eye his brother.

“Bah!” Leo swung a lethargic arm and it flopped on the table.

“No more pizza for… four more days…” Mikey grunted.

“Heh, you guys’s diet sucks.” April chuckled and fell over into Mikey on purpose.

The youngest squeaked and dominoed into Raph who shouldered the weight without moving.

“We’ll see you again, what? Friday, right?” Leo craned his head toward you.

Leo was dismissing you. 

It was late. 

This had been the plan. 

Two days.

Donnie squeezed your hand.

You had never let go.

“Well…” You tried to respond.

“You know!” Donnie cut through conversation as if he hadn’t heard how it was coming to a close. “Remember how we weren’t able to find Jupiter Jim and His Majesty Cromslor anywhere online?”

The table quieted and you looked to Donnie curiously. “Oh yeah… We missed it in our marathon.”

“I purchased a copy then, but it only came in a few days ago.”

“That took…” You flicked up a few fingers to count. “Months!?”

“Oversees. Probably a boot leg, but it does indeed work.” Donnie smiled at you.

You felt a flutter in your gut. “We should-”

“Watch it now?” His brows bobbed. “Well everyone?” Donnie looked out, carefree to his inebriated brethren. “Movie night?”

“I’m sleeping!” Raph announced. “Don’t wake me and we’re good.”

“But Don…!” Leo’s head fell onto where his arm was still on the table.

“I could watch.” Mikey’s shoulders bobbed beneath April.

“I’m out. Got work.” April yawned.

“Then it’s settled.” Donnie turned back to you. “Not that we needed permission.”

You chewed on a giggle. “Can’t wait.”

Everyone else dragged themselves back to the lair, but you and Donnie took up the rear as you discussed some lab work. Delving into the study you’d monitored over winter break and what came of it, you were soon sat around the projector where Splinter was asleep in his chair. Raph used the last of his energy carting his dad off to bed and Mikey settled into a bean bag with commands to turn his head towards the screen. Leo helped in that matter and set himself up with his phone in hand to hang out more than watch. You and April said your goodbyes and then Donnie joined you on the couch. Raph didn’t return until well past the first quarter of the movie, but didn’t seem to mind as he flopped down to watch a film presumably the family had seen many times before.

The room was filled with the quiet sounds of the movie until Donnie leaned into you. Your shoulders brushing, he whispered to you a fun fact about the movie that gave way to more. With your head turned against the cushion, you eventually stopped watching the film to instead stare at him. He was enthralling. His lips moved with specific enunciation that you knew came from his love of pizzazz. He topped it off with eloquence from IQ and his flair was infectious no matter how emotionless he tried to present himself.

You adored him.

The credits rolled and there was light after movie discussion where you all found Raph had fallen asleep as promised. Donnie regaled you in his theories on how this movie affected the larger Jupiter Jim universe while he threw a blanket over his older brother. Leo pitched in a few notes about his comic knowledge, but no matter how obsessed the Hamatos’ were in this film series, there was still a limit of how much conversation could be shared.

“Welp!” Leo announced, coming down from a stretch.

That was the second final call of the night.

You had already overstayed your welcome.

You pulled out your phone to text your parents.

Donnie touched your wrist. “Before I forget, I finished my latest project. That targeted hearing device.”

You slowed. “Oh yeah, were you able to work out that model on how it decides what to filter?”

“Yes, in fact, I had a breakthrough-!”

“You finished that two nights ago right? When you were pacing in that fit?” Leo interrupted.

Mikey perked up. “Oh yeah, you were so upset, but you wouldn’t say why! If it was just because you were doing your usual tech walk things, then why not tell us?”

Donnie had obvious guilt and raised his hands.

You stared. 

Two nights ago was when you hadn’t been able to text him goodnight.

You were in motion and interjected yourself with force into the fray. “Show us!”

Leo and Mikey looked at you curiously.

You tried not to balk. “It was for you guys too! It will help you gather intel on missions!”

“I thought it was just for your goggles or business people who never take their Bluetooth out, even at dinner parties?” Leo quizzed Donnie.

“The applications are wide ranging! Why do you think I patented it?” Donnie held his head haughtily and headed toward his lab.

The line there went first Donnie and Leo paired where Donie was putting his all into convincing Leo of his inventions use and then you and Mikey who trailed behind in a conversation of your own. 

You weren’t sure, but you thought the blue brother glanced at you twice.

Mikey regaled you on a video game he had recently beat and, by the time you entered the lab, Donnie was in full presentation mode. A space you had only been in virtually, Donnie walked everyone to where the buds were and tried them on Leo first since he was the naysayer. They proved to work nicely as you and Mikey played examples by moving around the lab to make noise for the technology to hone in on.

You remembered locations from your guided tour, but definition had been sparse over the phone. Now here and moving about, gadgets kept catching your eye. Donnie explained them with quips from his brothers about use or malfunction. You heard all manner of stories and saw a part of Donnie you had yet to see. Donnie was quick to hang up if his brothers tried to intervene, but he was no stranger to complaining about them. You felt like you knew them better than you did because of it, but seeing the brothers in action was something else entirely.

They carried through, soon fatiguing of reminiscing and giving space for Donnie to show off his more successful tech. He shined, putting his best foot forward in a way you assumed he prepared for investor meetings. He eventually let you examine his bo staff and demonstrated how it could be reformed within his ninpo. He was detailing how his schematics process had changed since acquiring his mystic powers when Leo suddenly yelled up to the ceiling.

“Nope! Beep, beep, beep! Hear that? That’s my brain at full capacity! No more! No more science for Leon! Honk-shoo! Bedtime alarm.” Leo threw his arms up and seemed ready to spin around to leave before he caught sight of you. “Great seeing you, by the way. We’ll be seeing you, but not again tonight! Later, losers!”

You all watched Leo walk out.

Mikey saw his own chance to pull away.

The youngest did nothing distinctly, but you could tell he was ready to head to bed himself.

You had been together for hours now and it was definitely the AM of the next day.

You needed to text your parents.

You needed to go home.

You’d see Donnie again.

You had one last time before you flew back across the country.

You got your phone in hand and messaged your parents to check in.

“Michael.” Donnie held his own anxiety. 

That meant both remaining brothers were ready for you to go. 

Having already proved to your parents you were alive, you moved to next pen a message about how you’d be home soon.  

“Huh?” A bubble popped on Mikey’s attention.

“Have you checked the time?” Donnie moved away from you. 

Looking up your screen found the time at 2:47am.

“Oh ho!” Mikey sang with scandalous purpose. 

You paused and looked up to see him sporting a huge grin. 

“I get what you’re putting down, brotha! It is the one and only reserved time for my most exclusive dish!” Mikey moved fluidly through a few poses. 

“Yes.” Donnie looked pointedly at you. “You might have heard of it.” 

You blinked a few times not realizing some kind of ploy was in motion. “Special time…?” 

Sliding to the right, Mikey’s whole body dipped below his raised arms. “It is time for my unmatched, out of control, unparalleled 3am dump nachos!” 

A memory slapped you across the hippocampus. 

You did remember. 

Mikey had sprung them on Donnie when he was helping you study for finals last year. 

The Mikey of the present then snapped to attention in a business-like manner. “Proprietary reserved and guaranteed to eradicate night munchies.”   

Your phone buzzed and beckoned with annoyed responses from your mom. 

You’d thankfully never sent that message about heading back. 

She knew you were doing alright, that was enough. 

You closed your phone. “Who am I to say no to the clock!?” 

“Nacho time!?” Mikey turned to confirm with the last party. “That was what you wanted, right?” 

“Yes.” Donnie tried to stave off a certain amount of joy. “Nacho time.”

“Woo!” Mikey started to holler but caught himself off to whisper. “Quieter woo because people are sleeping!”

You all filed down to the kitchen where Mikey took point in commanding his own cooking show. Talking about all his past chip and cheese related mishaps, he walked through pantry staples  and what wasn’t for good nachos. Donnie settled in by your side and eventually grabbed a few drinks. The pair of you mingled together, sharing little glances amongst Mikey’s display until the nachos were in the oven for a quick melt session.

“Oh man, this was a great idea.” Mikey looked at Donnie approvingly. “I can’t remember the last time we did 3am nachos.”

You did, but you kept quiet. 

“Probably after April’s midnight launch at that movie theater.” There was an air to Donnie that said he was purposefully making something up.

“Eugh, was it one of those ones where they watch like six movies back to back?” Mikey made a face.

“Are those marathons bad?” You asked.

“They are when you can’t pause and do stuff like this.” Mikey gestured around the kitchen.

“Helps to be allowed an oven.” Donnie cocked a brow at you.

“It’s not my fault someone started a fire in the dorms a few years ago.” You shot a smarmy look back.

“Finesse.” Donnie’s fingers came up to floss the word.

“This again!” You rolled your eyes.

“The rules are in place to protect! As long as you don’t violate them obviously, then I don’t see the problem.”

“Your homemade oven thing was way sketchier!”

“You could make it out of all the materials you had on hand! It’s completely safe!”

“Just because one can, doesn’t mean one should!”

“Look! I can recreate it now! You never tried.” Donnie went for a junk drawing and came back with supplies. “The most you needed was wire, then a containment unit, easy enough to build…”

Donnie nearly pressed to your side as he cut and created a wire and then spliced it with a battery. Showing you how to then encase the coils, he asked for your help holding something in place. You did so and he eventually came around with electrical tape to bind his creation. He complained about how soldering should be allowed if hot glue guns were. You spoke against that point and your hands brushed. He scoffed at live flames and slipped his arm through yours in lieu of reaching for a piece of plastic that had rolled away. You pressed into him and told him that with that logic you could simply weld.

“Couldn’t you?” Donnie’s face was near yours.

“I’d need…” You reached up and his cheek tipped into your hand as you activated the release on his goggles as you’d seen him do on video.

His lenses came down and you were close enough to see through them to his eyes beneath.

“… something like this.”

“I see… Safety first…” Donnie murmured, leaning in.

“Mhm…” You mirrored him.

A timer dinged and you jolted apart.

“3am nachos!” Mikey came around with oven mitts as if oblivious. “After hearing both your arguments, I’m gonna go with no homebrewing ovens in the dorms. It looks like you’re building a bomb.” He set the tray down and the smell was undeniably delicious.

You might have enjoyed it more had your heart not been pounding out your ears.

“To the uneducated, perhaps!” Donnie grumbled and looked over the spread.

You moved to better reach and heard Mikey talk about the best constructed bite.

What were you doing?

You had almost kissed Donnie.

If that was what just happened.

Donnie.

You had a nacho in hand.

Donnie.

What you had to label as your newest best friend.

Donnie.

Not a replacement, but an embellishment.

Donnie.

Next to you, the man in question said something about guacamole.

He helped you through your semesters.

You still had 10 more after the current one.

Four total years.

That didn’t include masters which you aimed on getting.

On the other side of the states.

As far as possible in the continental US.

That was only the grand scale. 

On a minor one, you’d be back there in only four days time. 

You’d barely seen Donnie.

You’d also arguably spent more time with him in just seven months then you had lifetimes with some of the people you still happily called friends, but 90% of that time had been through an internet connection.

Donnie.

A chip entered your mouth and it tasted so good you wanted to weep.

It certainly wasn’t for any other reason.

Mikey’s cooking was that good.

Eating.

Eating was happening.

You tried to tune into what Donnie and Mikey were discussing.

Donnie had put his goggles back up on his head.

His eyes looked pretty as he talked to his brother.

They always seemed lazy in expression, but they caught so much.

They also took in nothing if he didn’t care to look.

He’d been looking at you.

Right through that red and blue glass.

The make-up of purple.

Mikey hummed an exhausted note. “Oh man… 5am already? Sun’s gonna be up soon…”

“That late?” Donnie asked absently.

At least your parents had gone to bed and wouldn’t hassle you.

They might because you were absolutely going to get home after they woke up for the day.

That was less than ideal.

You also had lunch plans.

What were you doing?

“I’m hitting the hay!” Mikey announced even though you were sure he’d said other things. “Hug for the road!”

Mikey hugged you and you were sure you hugged back.

“Finish those off or whatever. They don’t keep so toss ‘em! Night, D!”

“Night.” Donnie spoke.

Alone.

You were alone with Donnie.

You’d been avoiding this hadn’t you?

Both of you had. 

“Still hungry?” Donnie spoke timidly.

“Sure.” You had barely had any.

You worked through building that perfect bite Mikey talked about and then went for some salsa Mikey had whipped up.

Donnie was right there with his own chip and your knuckles brushed.

You both froze and looked at each other.

You saw it all there.

The budding feelings.

The long distance.

The fear.

The longing.

“It’s too soon…?” Donnie broke away to look at the sheet pan. “Don’t you think?”

You did.

You know you did.

You were weepy as you nodded and ate more than necessary just because the taste helped abate the sadness.

Donnie offered to take you home in his own melancholy.

You’d barely experienced college.  

You were so young.

In spite of knowing him so well, it wasn’t enough.

When he pulled over on the empty morning curb outside your apartment, sunlight was peering in on your exchange.

What would you do?

How would you say goodbye?

“Walk me to the door?” You asked.

“Of course.” He put the van into park and turned it off.

You walked side by side in silence up the stoop.

The moment you were both on the same level, you hugged him. Hard into his middle you squeezed him for all he was worth. Not to be outshined, you were similarly scooped. Donnie created a protective outer layer where his face buried down into the top of your head. You both siphoned as much of each other off as you could feeling like it would be the last.

Was that right?

It didn’t feel like it, but for right now it was hard to parse anything.

It was exciting to be close to him.

You hadn’t known when he offered to give you a ride that you’d tackle him right out of your airport gate.

You’d never hugged before that. 

You’d never touched at all as far as you could remember. 

All of this was sudden.

Too soon.

You rooted your face into Donnie’s plastron. “I’ll still see you Friday?”

“You’ll see me tomorrow if available.”

You blinked up wide right out of his chest.

“You’re on break. I want to make the most of it.”

This time you threw your arms around his neck and he hoisted you up into the hug. You laughed into it until he set you back down and your heads bumped together. Sting moving to cradle, you lingered against one another. You felt more then, how you were rushing. You were jumping to conclusions. You were deciding years down the line before being present in your own moment.

Too soon.

“Dinner.”

“It’s a date.”

You entered your apartment on a cloud nine bubble that even your parents couldn’t pop. It prevailed through your mother’s nagging and you finally catching blissful shut eye. You barely made your lunch appointment with your friend and were disheveled for it. They laughed at you and joked about a rough night. The unsuspecting victim who just happened to ask the wrong question at the right time, you unloaded on them. Not usually the type of friend for long talks, they took it in stride and came out like an MVP.

They gave you advice on how to proceed and shared how they themselves were doing long distance.

It wasn’t for everyone.

You were young.

You needed to prioritize you.

There was also a certain amount of trusting your gut.

All a tricky balance, you came away feeling optimistic and closer to your friend than before.

You also crashed as soon as you got home and had a screaming match with your mom when she returned from work to find you in bed. It was enhanced by you not telling her about your dinner plans, but it all felt like a certain amount of stride. It was par for the course with growing pains of your adulthood and you got yourself gussied up amongst it. Donnie came to get you and you felt whisked away where your dad sent you off in good humor.

You wished he fielded your mom, but you guessed you could only ask so much.

Your date was a romantic one. Dictated by closeness, you counted in touch. There were brushes to the hands that morphed to holds. He’d pressed your back to indicate he wanted to pull your chair out and would eventually pull you to his side when some drunk adults stormed by on the sidewalk. You snuggled close to him during a concession selection and later would rest your head on his shoulder during a movie. Afterwards when you lingered for a walk in twinkling night lights you spoke your feelings into reality and what to do.

You’d wait.

It was too soon.

There was so much more to see.

You didn’t feel sad about anything other than not being able to kiss him when he brought you home.

Those hugs were hard enough to break apart from.

Friday then came and went and this time you felt fully present amongst the Hamato. Sunita and Casey joined for a rowdy bunch and you felt strong enough to take over the entire city. You also were always placed by Donnie’s side whether it be by both your conscious choices or simply your draw to one another which earned some ire. Unlike the last hang out, you were validated and both breezily brushed it off with knowing smiles. That brought more confusion, but any and all were left guessing what your relationship was.

Your family and a huge friend group hangout took Saturday.

Then you packed with Donnie on a video call.

It was just like a week ago, but wholly new.

You wished him a somber goodnight and right before hanging up he asked to drop you off.

You would have to fend off your parents, but you decided you could oblige.

There was little complaint as the next morning your mom asked you point blank who the boy was. You admitted to them the events of the last seven months, mutation and all, which they took in various stages. What your dad heard mostly was your loneliness and how this guy had gone above and beyond to make you feel less so. That was enough for him and in a stern decision, he refused to be moved. It left your mom high and dry outside the marriage unit and she eventually sighed to dreamily say that was why she loved your father.

Comparisons were then made between them and your relationship with Donnie and you shut that down as quickly as you could.

Donnie was then there and in an impromptu parents meeting.

He was surprisingly adept at it and you had a feeling he was aware this would happen. You ended up drilling him on the way to the airport where he admitted he prepared for at least seven possible scenarios regarding him butting in on the airport drop off. He regaled you in them all until you were sick of his preparations and you were at the airport.

He walked you as far as he could.

You hugged.

It should have been scented with desperation, you thought.

Instead, it felt like a promise.

With the same clingy digging, he gave equal pressure to your waist as you gave his head. He clawed your back and you pulled at his mask tails. It caught puffs of laughter from both of you as you drank each other in. You knew his scent now, a specific one you wished to curl up in. You’d remember prolonging time together even when you talked to him on the phone, presumably as soon as you landed. You’d be exhausted and want to shower, but you’d make time. You liked to give it just as he’d do the same.

You parted.

With smiles that were plump with tears unshed, you waved to him and he lingered as long as he could. You thought he even might have continued past that and used his goggles for some x-ray business. In case he did, you metered your steps and kept looking back to send him more grins to log. He probably had a thousand already from the calls or even this week, but you’d give more. You boarded a plane and spring break ended.

Across the country you flew.

Back to school.

Back to work.

Through summer and an internship.

Opportunity and papers.

Talk of job and studies galore.

Late night calls and walls of text.

A flurry of messages.

Arguments.

Cold shoulders.

Apologies.

Fall Semester.

Winter break.

Spring Semester.

Spring break.

Rinse and repeat. 

Donnie became your only airport ride. No matter when you came, everyone knew he was designated. It became common knowledge as much as anything else. As much as your friendship, everyone knew that was to be expected.

You grew.

Four years passed.

You found yourself yet again coming into LaGuardia on the cusp of spring. You had plans for furthering education on this side of the country. California had been nice, but Donnie had mentioned a study once that stuck with you. Eight in ten adults lived within 100 miles of where they grew up. It seemed like such a silly statistic four years ago when you’d made your college choice. You weren’t sure if you necessarily understood now, but there was a certain comfort in knowing you’d be in New York for the foreseeable future.

It helped that you grew up in such an amazing city.

What a town, Donnie would say reverent regardless of whether it was bad or good.

Shouldering your bag, you walked out to baggage claim. While the spot may have changed and the man was still growing like a weed, Donnie would still always appear to you between crowd waves. A sort of fate, he’d part pedestrians like the sea and he looked up from where he was tinkering with something on his gauntlet.

A smile spread on his face and he was in motion.

You had to keep up.

A hop and a skip and you collided in a spin. Twirling out for the sake of it, you both murmured affections until he rooted your face out from his shoulder. There he dipped you first for the sake of flair, but brought you up to properly execute what came next.

Your hands tucked behind his neck.

He locked his arms around your waist.

His gaze poured over you. 

You tugged him lightly as he was taking his time.

He was hovering, no doubt committing all of this to memory.

You didn’t fault him; you had started dating a few weeks ago.

He’d blurted out the question saying he was unable to wait until spring break or even until you graduated with your undergrad. 

You were long past first kiss territory, but this would be the first with the label.

“Donatello.”

“Not to be confused with the famous Italian sculptor.” He staunchly said the same thing he had since the moment he’d first introduced himself. 

“Please.”

“Please what?” He jeered.

“Kiss me, dum-dum.” You pulled him as hard as he’d allow and he snuck in a laugh before your lips met.

You would always appreciate this time of year for its change.

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[fungoideale]

[kawaii-queen-kaiju]

Lies

Maribat March - Prompt 10

~

"He gave me a diamond the size of my fist! You can't tell anyone though; the paparazzi would be all over us." Lila loudly proclaimed from across the cafeteria. Marinette scoffed, throwing a disgusted sneer over her shoulder at the Italian. This was the fifth celebrity engagement story. She wondered just how she got unfortunate enough to be surrounded by these idiots. She could kill everyone in this room in two minutes flat, and yet, she had to restrain herself for the sake of the mission. Keep playing the role of meek little 'Mari', keep pretending she wasn't one of the most skilled assassins in the world. Stupid Hawkmoth. Because of some random ass dude, she was stuck among these sheeple.

She quickly left the cafeteria, exiting the school and heading to the bakery. She greeted Sabine - a member of the Order of the Miraculous and one of her old handlers - and climbed the stairs to her room. Just a little longer. She was so close to finding the man who had enough audacity to steal from the Order. And Hawkmoth, him too.

Her phone rang, startling her out of her inner monologue. It was Damian, her betrothed. She happily answered, the smile on her face genuine for once. 'Habibti. How was your day?' He asked, an odd whirring echoing in the background. 'Have you stabbed the harlot yet?'

She rolled her eyes, the smile on her face persisting. "It was fine. And no, I have not stabbed Lila, as much as I may want to. It's annoying, but it's helping my cover. She keeps the idiots from following me around, and it makes easier to search Paris for the lousy fake-Guardian and whatever asshat he let take the Butterfly." 

'And you're still sure you would not like me to join you and help?'

She sighed, the conversation a common one since she was sent to Paris. "I've got this, Dami. Besides, you wouldn't last five minutes here. I love you, but you are very temperamental."

He squawked angrily, and she could picture the offended look on his face, his jade green eyes crinkling adorably. 'I am not temperamental! You seem to be forgetting just how many of our trainers you sent to the infirmary.'

She rolled her eyes. "They were misogynistic pricks, and you know it."

'I was not arguing that they weren't, Habibti, merely stating that you extensively hurt each of them. In fact, I am quite glad for what you did. Had you not, Mother never would have seen fit to have us betrothed.'

Marinette smiled happily at the memory, standing in the middle of the large al-Ghul throne room in ceremonial garb, opposite Damian in matching robes. "Yeah." She glanced at the clock on the wall and cursed. "Sorry, Dami. I need to head back. Call you back later?"

'Of course. I love you, Habibti.' He answered curtly, though she could tell he was peeved at being cut off. "I love you too."

She came back to excited whispers throughout the classroom, and a huddle around Lila's desk. Marinette rolled her eyes, heading towards her own desk at the back of the room. Except...

She was stopped in her tracks by one whispered word. 'Damian'. There were plenty of Damians in the world, and several rich ones Lila could be claiming she's engaged to; but what if? Marinette continued up the stairs, but kept an ear on the conversation at the front.

'Wayne'.

Marinette clenched her teeth. They were talking about Damian. Her Damian. She'd seen articles and heard rumors before, right after Damian's debut as a billionaire's son, but something about hearing her beloved's name come from that liar's mouth made her see green. She was fuming, trying to force away the murderous haze. She was chosen for this mission specifically because of the ease it took to banish the Pit's influence from her mind, and she was not going to let Lila of all people ruin it for her. 

At the front of the room, the door slammed open. Marinette's mind screeched to a halt, because standing there in all of his glory was Damian. She shot to her feet and raced down the stairs before she registered what she was doing. He was here, right in front of her! She flung her arms around him, squeezing tight.

"Hello, Habibti." He whispered in her ear, squeezing her back. "What are you doing here?" She asked, pulling back to look at him. "Father found something. Camera footage of the akumas, and an identity, over a hundred and twenty years old. They're going after them now." He said, a happy gleam in his eye despite the lack of emotion on his face. Marinette grinned widely. Her mission is over! She can go back to Nanda Parbat - or Gotham!

"Marinette, what's going on?"

She turned around abruptly, remembering their audience. "Who is this?" Alya was front and center, glaring at her accusingly. Marinette's mind was whirling, trying to find an in-character way to answer. Except they found them. The false Guardian and the Butterfly. She didn't have to keep up her cover anymore. She grinned, her true smile, not the meek thing she'd developed the past few months.

She watched as Lila's little lapdog recoiled, enjoying the effect she finally got to have on her classmates. Marinette stalked forward, easily falling back into her natural gait. The walk of a predator. "I'm happy to announce that I'm done! I don't have to sit here and pretend anymore! You're all horribly stupid, and it was definitely not a pleasure to have known you." She let her smile widen to that terrifying degree that always made her targets believe she was inhuman. She never dissuaded those thoughts, instead encouraging them. "And you, Lila Rossi. You are a lying sociopath, and to be honest, I can respect that! But you chose to put my beloved's name in your mouth, and you've made me mad. Unfortunately for you, that is an unpleasant situation to be in."

"M-Marinette?" Alya tripped backwards on the steps, falling on her butt. She was ignored. Marinette's focus was on Lila, the repulsive girl who dared to soil her beloved's name with her tongue. To her credit, Lila was managing to hold eye contact with Marinette, even if it was in paralysis. "Tell me," Marinette slammed her hands on the lying girl's desk. "Do you do any research before you decide to spread rumors?" 

Lila was pale and shaking, her mouth a thin line. She didn't answer. "You do, don't you? You recognize my beloved, and you realize your house of lies is toppling around you." Marinette ended with a whisper, her face inches from the Italian's.

The room was silent, everyone's focus on the scene before them. On the way Marinette's personality did a complete one-eighty and froze everyone in their spots. Well, everyone except for the boy. He was staring at Marinette in adoration, hands clasped behind him as he watched his betrothed tear into her hemorrhoid of the last several months. His phone buzzed in his pocket, the only sound in the room. "Habibti. It's done."

Marinette whirled around, her sunshine smile back. "Then why are we still here?" She linked arms with the boy and left the room in stunned silence.

(The LoA and The Order are the same organization under different names)

[lucid-loves]

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 4

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.6k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction. 

Chapter Synopsis: While you are alone in your own hotel room, the men talk about you over Italian cuisine. This includes speculation on Ghost’s feelings for you. Meanwhile, you are already gearing up for infiltration to tap the target building. Ghost decides that he wants a front-row seat to your show.

A/N: I am adding a taglist from now on for those who want to be a part of one. I made a post asking people to like it if they wanted to be part of it. If you would like to comment that you want to be in a taglist, you can do so on this post~

Taglist: @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @dory-98 @cum-tea-and-towels @completelymarveltrash

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

Good God, authentic pizza was absolutely amazing. The standard for pasta was incredible as well. It beat the standard cafeteria food back on base by a landslide. The 141 grimaced as they thought about someday having to return to the food back home. Even the food they’ve eaten out of your fridge has been refreshing to their taste buds. Soap was the most vocal about his dread of the mass-cook cafeteria food as he devoured another slice of heaven. “Christ, going back to bland spinach and soggy rice is going to be fuckin’ painful!”

“Remember when they tried to do a taco night. Fucking hell, the lettuce was dripping fat like a sponge.” Gaz added as he took a swig of whiskey. It wasn’t the Italian choice of liquor to pair with food, but it was the 141’s choice. Not Ghost’s though. He missed his Kentucky bourbon. 

“Last Thanksgiving was the most painful for me. Turkey was drier than my fuckin’ belt.” Soap chuckled, trying not to drip sauce onto the bed with how his whole body laughed with him. They were eating in one of the double queen hotel rooms, away from the public eye. When they were all together in a group, they often garnered attention. Such was the price for being such large, capable men.

“Anyone reckon that Hex is up yet? Food is gonna get cold.” Price inquired. They had saved some food for you. A plate full of different things since no one knew what you liked. Even Kate didn’t know when they called to ask her. Still, they tried their best anyway. And their best was getting cold on a ceramic plate.

Soap shook his head in refusal. “I’m not gonna knock on her door. The lass scares the shite out of me.”

Gaz laughed out loud. “Soap? Afraid? Never thought I’d live to see the day.” 

“Hey, you weren’t the one that nearly lost an ear! With fuckin’ car keys of all things.” He defended, taking a long swig of his own drink. He clearly wasn’t going to forgive you for that any time soon. It made him annoyed when he thought about the fact that you probably didn’t care. 

Price shrugged and poured himself another drink. “You were kinda asking for it, Johnny. I think I would’ve nearly killed you too if I’m being honest.”

“Well, Lt. made the joke first and he didn't nearly get stabbed.” He continued to argue, looking to Simon for an answer on how it was different when he cracked the joke. Ghost just stared with indifference, sitting in the corner with his mask halfway up. Even if he was with the people he trusted with his identity, he just felt more comfortable hiding his face while he ate.

The room went quiet for a moment as the men thought about it. Out of all of them, Ghost seemed to be the one that was able to get the closest to you. You still pushed him away by miles, but it was definitely closer than they were getting. Kyle took another slice of pizza, the fresh basil so vibrantly green that it looked like it was glowing. “How do you feel so comfortable pushing her boundaries, Lieutenant? One attempt at our lives is enough for us to back off. Yet, you seem to keep going back for more.”

The men waited for an answer, an idea crawling into each of their heads. Price had already picked up on it by now. He noticed as soon as Ghost lifted you in his arms. Gaz vocalizing his observation out loud just now triggered Soap to realize it too. A slow, knowing smirk crept along Soap’s lips. Simon scowled at the insinuation, reading all of their minds. “All of you can bury your ideas six feet under. I’m just trying to get her to trust us. The mission will go a lot smoother if she does. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can go home.”

All of them returned to enjoying their meals, unconvinced by Ghost’s protest. Was Simon attracted to you? Absolutely. Did he like you? Well, he certainly didn’t hate you. The biggest problem for him was that you were dangerous. Not just from an ability standpoint, but from an emotional standpoint. While he did want to get close to you, he still wanted to keep you just out of arm’s reach emotionally because he knew that you would burn him. Poison him with that venom of yours. He knew if he really did fall for you, he would never stop falling. 

For the sake of the mission and his own preservation, he convinced himself that you were only a temporary attraction. A beautiful woman with incredible power that will return to the unknown as soon as this is all over. His teammates knew better, though. In all their time of knowing Simon, he has never shown interest in women. Always too busy. Always too focused on work. Not even making time for hook-ups. When you came into the picture, you got his attention in a way they have never seen before. That meant a lot to them.

“Regardless, you have the honor of delivering our assassin her dinner, Lieutenant.” Price smirked, abusing his power as Captain to avoid feeding the feral woman next door. Ghost clenched his jaw, cursing out John in his mind as he got up.

The men continued their lighthearted conversation as Simon walked out, plate of food in hand. Taking a deep breath, he walked to your door and knocked. When there was no answer, he thought that perhaps you were still asleep. So, he took out his spare keycard to the room and welcomed himself in. 

The room was dim, large shadows casing over the beige walls. A few laptops were running on the desks, already hacked into the security cameras of the target building. You’ve actually been up for a while and have been busy getting things ready for your infiltration. It was alarming when you woke up in your hotel room instead of the car at first. However, it didn’t take you long to figure out that someone must’ve carried you. You were pretty sure who it was, but you didn’t dwell on it. There was work to be done and you had wasted too much time with sleep. 

Kate helped you get into their systems. From there, a layout of the building was mapped out along with the IDs of everyone working for Makarov. You have watched enough security footage to take note of the guard routes. All that needed to be done was planting the taps to allow you to listen in on everything. Nothing was going to be unheard. Not even the sound of a guard taking a bathroom break.

Simon watched you fasten a black belt tight around your hips that carried a collection of small throwing knives. You wore new pants, a long sleeve turtleneck with a hood, and boots. All tight. All black. His hands ached to reach out in order to trace your prominent curves. He wanted to feel the thin fabric of your shirt, the heat of your skin exuding through it. 

Instead of that, he placed the food down on top of your dresser, resisting the temptation. “Not going to eat first?”

You didn’t even glance his way, something he wanted to fix immediately. “No. It will weigh me down. I had room service bring up some fruit earlier. It will tie me over until I get back.”

“You’re leaving now?” He questioned, anger rising in his tone. You should have let them know that you were awake. That you were set up with the tech. That you wanted to proceed with the mission with a lookout. You shouldn’t have intended to do this alone.

But, you couldn’t help it. This is how you have always worked. Besides, to you, there was no reason to waste time with unnecessary things like knocking on their door to let them know you were ready. What were you? A fucking dog looking to be let out? “Now is better than later. Security usually lets their guard down after meals. It’s not too late in the night to expect intruders too. Now is the optimal time for me to place the taps.”

Simon scoffed at your unapologetic reasoning. “And you were just going to do this alone? Not even someone to watch the cameras out for you? What if you get compromised?”

Here we fucking go again. You grabbed the taps sitting on the desk, putting them in a small satchel securely tied to your belt. “Can you not criticize the way I do things every fucking conversation? I’m doing what I do best, Simon. I’ve never been compromised before. That’s a streak I intend to keep.”

He stepped towards you, his frame menacing as he towered over you. Hearing your name come from your lips was still something he wasn’t used to. Despite that, he wasn’t going to let you do this alone. This time, his tone was gentle yet resolute. “I’m letting the force know and I’m going to monitor the cameras.”

Looking up into his eyes, you could see that he wasn’t going to waver from his decision. There was no point fighting about this, you finally decided. Not even twelve hours ago was your last fight with him. A part of you was getting tired of it. Stepping back towards the hotel window to leave, you threw in the towel. It wasn’t going to stop you from getting the job done anyhow. “Do whatever you want. I don’t give a shit.”

“Hang on.” Ghost stopped you, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist. He pulled you towards him, using the advantage of his strength to have you close to him. Anticipating you to either reach for your knives or strike him with your other hand, he prepared to guard himself. However, you never used the same trick twice in a row. 

Like a forceful tango, you stepped your full weight forward to catch him off balance. You then pushed further as he was forced to step back lest you headbutt him, your hand now having the room to land on his chest with a quick, sharp force. In Simon’s fall, you swiped his sheathed knife from his own belt. Before he knew it, he was laying on his back on your bed, you straddling him, his eyes locking with yours that blazed with victory. 

Ghost’s strong hand was still wrapped around your wrist, but your free hand had his own knife pressed against his chest. Right over his heart that was thudding against his chest like it wanted to break out. The hot blood in his body was pumping into overdrive. Not in fear of death. No. In pure, passionate attraction. He swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to still pull you down and kiss you through his mask. Even if it would cause the knife to be plunged into his heart, the thought of being able to share a passionate kiss with you didn’t seem like a bad tradeoff.

Tendrils of your hair fell past your face, framing a beautiful jawline he wanted to trace with his lips. The image of you gasping in shock and pleasure as he squeezed your hips flashed in his mind for a second. It wouldn't have been hard to do. His other hand was still free but frozen as you pressed the tip of the blade into his chest. He also imagined the potential sweetness of your tongue, giving him a taste of dessert after dinner. He wanted to be the one to catch you by surprise and submit to his will. Only, you would love it and beg for more through feverish kisses and the grinding of your hips against his.

Christ, he was getting a boner. 

He wasn’t the only one who was feeling it, though. The sound of your own heartbeat was flooding your ears. You couldn’t seem to pull away from his blue eyes that so heatedly begged for you to come closer. The heat already felt from your body pressing against his didn’t feel like enough. Especially when you began to feel his growing hardness pressing against you. That just made your own sex tingle with need.

You got off of him quickly, putting distance between the two of you. What the fuck were you doing?! What the hell was wrong with you?! You haven't been with anyone for so long, but it was no excuse to get so swept up like this. Not with someone like Ghost. Not with someone like Simon Riley. You needed to get a fucking grip. Get your head on straight. Damn it, you were better than this!

Slowly, he sat up and cleared his throat, trying to pretend that what just happened wasn’t the sexiest thing he’s ever been through. His knife was tossed onto the bed next to him, your movements quick as you rushed to get the fuck out of there.

However, when Simon called your name, you froze. He sounded a little breathless, his voice making you shiver. “Hex, wait.”

Simon stood from the bed to grab something from the desk. Cautiously, he walked towards you, now learning his lesson that it wasn’t a great idea to just grab you so suddenly for multiple reasons. At a slow pace, he opened his large palm to show you a small earpiece. Still being careful with his speed and touch, he lightly brushed your hair behind your ear and inserted the earpiece for you. You flinched as his fingers brushed against your jaw, butterflies erupting within you.

“You’ll be able to hear me through this. I won’t say anything unless I really have to. You’ll be able to talk to me through it too. Whatever you want, whatever you need, just say it.” Ghost promised. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You feared that using your voice would reveal just how flustered you were over what just transpired. Instead, you gave a simple nod and headed back to your window.

The nighttime breeze flooded in as soon as you opened the window, the chill seeping into your bones. Good. You needed to cool off. Without looking back, you slipped out into the night, leaving Simon behind to wonder if supposed enemies were supposed to be attracted to each other like this. 

~

The shadows concealed you, the moonlight accentuating them on every surface they could touch. Quietly and quickly, you moved from shadow to shadow until you stumbled upon the targeted building. From the outside, it looked like a rundown, abandoned office building up for sale. The place was hidden away, tucked behind the forefront of what Italy wanted to offer instead. Beauty. 

You watched armed men standing guard, looking out into the alleyways for enemies. Sticking to the shadows, you crept along the side of the building before spotting an open window just above you. Taking a deep breath to focus your mind, you sprung into action. With a few wall jumps, you were right in one of Makarov’s weapons depot. 

From the laptops back at the hotel, Ghost carefully watched the footage, almost holding his breath as he searched for you. His team gathered into the room once he told them you had left already. They had assumed that all the time he spent missing with you was just him helping set up the tech. He didn’t correct them on this. Like you had said before, never underestimate the power of assumptions.

Relief washed over his shoulders as soon as he saw your figure invade the building. Just as fast as you had entered, you hid, dropping a tap that was modeled to look like a dead fly onto the dirty tile. The place was dusty, the smell of stagnant air filling your lungs. The men here didn’t care about the cleanliness of the place. Fortunately for the 141, that meant that they wouldn't have to worry about anyone cleaning up the “dead flies.”

All of the men watched the footage as you swiftly made your way from room to room dropping flies. Soap double checked to make sure that the enemies’ own footage was still scrubbed as you worked. Regardless, you moved so carefully that any video of you just looked like a weird, black glitch. You were in your zone. This is what you did for years. This is what you have secretly missed doing.

Every move you made was calculated, following a strict regime based on the men’s own schedule. As you dropped more and more taps, Price began to check if they worked on his end. Sure enough, they could hear everything.

Gaz noticed that Ghost’s body was rigid, his eyes refusing to leave the screens. He was keeping track of you like he would lose sight of you if he blinked. Wanting to ease his worries, he began to prepare some tea using the hotel’s electric kettle. Kyle was always one to look out for his friends like this.

A hot cup of black tea was placed in front of Ghost, the smell already releasing the tension in his muscles. Gaz pat his stiff shoulder. “She’s gonna be alright, bruv.”

Ghost gave a silent nod, finally taking a moment to let his eyes wander off of the monitor to have a sip of tea. Now that he was more relaxed, he viewed your movements in a more admiring way. None of them could pull off how smoothly you moved. How easy you glided through like a gust of wind passing through. Even when you were close to an enemy, you kept your cool, refrained from killing, and moved on without detection. 

You were a god damn modern-day ninja. A fine one at that.

In less than an hour, you had swept through the whole building without detection. Every tap was planted. Not once did you hear Simon in your ear either. You were glad. You felt like if you heard his voice through the earpiece it would break your flow. But, a part of you did yearn to hear his deep voice so close to you. 

Getting out was the easiest part. Having no one seen you come in, you took the same route out. When you came back through the window, you were met with grateful smiles and words of praise that were foreign to your ears. Ghost wanted to be the first one to say something about your skills, but loud-mouth Sergeant Soap beat him to it. “Damn, Lass! I think you just set a record for 141!”

“That was quite impressive stuff there, Hex. It was like you were never there. Kate was right about you.” Price grinned as he thanked you in his own way.

Gaz hopped on the headphones to listen to the taps as soon as his Captain moved. “All of them are working just fine. I’ve only ever seen moves like that in movies and video games. Job well done!”

You were unsure of what to do with all of this attention, never having experienced it before. When you worked alone, there was no one to tell you that you did well when you got back. You didn’t know if all of this flattery made you feel good. In all honesty, the confusion you felt about it made you a little sick to your stomach.

Weaving past them all, you grabbed your cold plate of food that Simon brought to you earlier and left without a word through the door. After receiving some worried glances from his soldiers, Price provided some words of reassurance. “Don’t worry, men. Hex probably isn’t used to having people wait for her like this, let alone praise for good work. Give her time.”

As the team brought back some of the tech to monitor from their rooms, Ghost stepped out into the hallway to look for you. He initially thought that you would be in one of their rooms to use the microwave, but you were nowhere in sight. While he wanted to keep looking, a call by his Captain to help made him call it there for the night. 

And so he spent the rest of the night bunking with Soap, listening in on private conversations and thinking about you. Meanwhile, you spent your night eating a cold dinner alone on the hotel rooftop. Overlooking the city, your own mind occasionally wandered against your will towards Ghost and how it would feel if his heat saved you from the autumn winds chilling your skin.

[lexirosewrites]

Happy slick Sunday! Thinking about exchange student Steve (I'm thinking Italy bc I love the idea of Italian Steve) who transfers to Hawkins during his junior year. Imagine Hawkins is a much bigger town in this than it actually is. Eddie, in his first senior year, frequents the front office partly bc he's usually in the principal's office and partly bc he does some menial work for them in place of one of his classes. On Steve's first day, Eddie is entranced by a new smell of an omega he's never scented before. He catches hints of it all over the school, never laying eyes on him. Steve, on the other hand, has been entranced by the smell of an alpha who smells delectable to him when no one ever has excited him so much and has been unconsciously following the trail of Eddie's scent around the school. They eventually lock eyes across the cafeteria and Eddie invites him to sit since he's a fellow "freak". Over time, Steve falls in well with the Hellfire group and Eddie nearly swoons the first time Steve mentions his DnD knowledge. When he's not hanging out with them, he befriends polyglot Robin, and they bond over speaking rapid fire Italian to each other about everything and everyone they see. They quickly become best friends and Steve is slowly falling in love with Eddie, who has become a safe place for him like no one else. Something something they start courting, graduate, and fall in love after being each other's firsts for everything then get married and have the boat load of kids they constantly practice for.

so cuuuuuttteeeee🥺💕

[bradshawshawaiianshirt]

Stuck on the Past | Part 3

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Ex-girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You never thought you'd see Bradley Bradshaw again, especially the way things ended between the two of you. So what happens when he's suddenly back for a special mission and is determined to win you back too?

Warnings: Angst (ish), adult language, drinking

Length: 1.6k

"Who are you texting?" Bradley looked up from his phone to see Nat sitting down across from him. He'd had a bad day, that was for sure. With training for this mission and almost fighting Hangman earlier, he'd come straight to the cafeteria thinking food might help. Instead, he found himself staring at your texts, wondering if he should message to make sure you still wanted to meet, or if you'd turn him down and his day would hit rock bottom.

He looked up as Nat sat on the bench across from him, "No-one."

Nat rolled her eyes, leaning on the table in between them, "Come on, spill it. I need some drama around here that isn't to do with either Hangman or this mission."

Bradley poked at his food, "You're gonna tell me its a bad idea."

Nat smirked, "Can't be worse than other things you've done,"

Bradley chuckled and put his fork down, "I'm going out with my ex-girlfriend tonight. I think."

"Going out with an ex huh?" Nat shrugged, "Not the worst idea. We've all ran back to an ex once or twice."

"It's not like that." He sighed, "We were together a long time, while I was at Top Gun, haven't seen her in a few years now. Back then I really thought... I don't know. She was the only girl I saw myself making a life with, you know? Settling down."

"So, what happened? She dump you?"

"No." Bradley ran a hand through his hair, "I fucked it up. I ran.. but she didn't try to make me stay. Maybe she saw it coming, I don't know. I just knew I'd end up spending so much time away from her, I couldn't.. She deserved more."

"So... what? You want her back?"

Bradley shrugged, "I don't know. We're both in the same city, first time in years..."

Nat grinned, "It's like the universe is giving you a second chance, right?"

"You think I'm crazy?" Bradley chuckled.

"No." Nat stood, ready to leave, "But you want my advice? Don't fuck it up again."

-

You looked at your reflection in the mirror. He would be here any minute, and this was the third outfit you'd tried on. You shook your head, you're acting stupid. This wasn't even a date.. was it? It was just dinner. You could do dinner. Glancing at the mirror again, you started to panic. The dress looked good, but was it too dressy? Shit.

Your phone buzzed from your bed. He's here. The dress would have to do now.

You slipped on your shoes and headed downstairs to the front of your building, where Bradley was waiting, leaning against the side of his bronco. When he saw you coming, he grinned, "You look amazing."

Maybe the dress wasn't such a bad idea.

"Thanks." You looked Bradley up and down. He was in jeans and one of his classic Hawaiian shirts, his aviators hanging on the edge of his nose. "You look good too."

He opened the passenger door of the bronco for you and you climbed in. He reached over you to buckle your seat belt and you felt your stomach flip as you looked up at him. He smiled slightly and shut the door. You couldn't give in. You had to be strong.

Focus on the article.

He climbed into the driver's seat and turned on the engine, pulling away from your street, "You still love Italian food?"

You chuckled, "Are you kidding? I will always be down for pasta. Where are we going?"

Bradley smirked, "You'll see."

After a little while, he was pulling into a parking spot right outside the old Italian restaurant on the corner of the street. You almost couldn't believe it, the memories overwhelming you slightly. This had been your go-to for dates with Bradley back in the day. You looked out of your window and back to Bradley as he parked, opening and closing your mouth, unable to figure out what to say.

He turned off the engine, suddenly looking a little sheepish, "I know it's cheesy taking you here, if you wanna go somewhere else-"

"No." you interjected, "I love it here."

His shoulders relaxed and he began to smile, "Remember that time you were sick so I ordered like, five different meals from here and brought them to your place?."

You giggled, you guys had so much left over pasta that day, it practically fed you for the next week. "I remember." You said, "I also remember you trying to pour me a glass of wine and instead spilling it all down my front."

Bradley began to laugh, "That was so embarrassing! What was that, like, our second date too?"

You started laughing too and Bradley watched you, struggling to hold back his own laughter. You were so magnetic, your laugh so real and genuine, he'd missed it more than he thought.

"Yeah." you giggled, "You know, I never got the stain out of that dress, had to throw it away."

Bradley smiled wide as both of your laughter subsided, "Shame. You looked beautiful that night."

You cheeks burned as you both got out of the car and you felt yourself smiling harder than you had in a while.

Focus on the article.

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you both walked inside. It was a small restaurant, with a few seats by the front window and some further towards the back. The host showed you to your seat, right by the large front window. You'd sat here with Bradley before and you felt yourself wonder if he had requested this table especially. He ordered a bottle of wine for you both to share. If it were a first date, you would have been giddy with infatuation.

But it wasn't a first date, not really.

Once the waitress had poured you each a glass and left you to look at the menu, you decided to make a move. "How's the mission going?" You tried to sound as casual as you could.

Bradley gazed up at you from the menu, "Haven't spoken to Maverick, almost got in a fight with Hangman."

You frowned, putting the menu down, "You got in a fight? Are you okay?"

He chuckled, "Yeah sweetheart, I'm fine."

"So Hangman's still an ass?"

"Oh yeah. You remember him huh?"

You nodded, "I remember how much you used to bitch about him at Top Gun. Seems like he hasn't changed."

"Nope." Bradley looked back at the menu and smirked, "Wanna share their mega pasta? Think we can finish it all this time?"

You chuckled, reliving the memory. The restaurant was known for doing massive portions of any pasta you choose, meant for 4 people to share. Last time you and Bradley had barely made a dent in it.

"Sure." you smiled, leaning across the table, "As long as it's spaghetti bolognaise."

-

When you'd both finished your food, Bradley eating a lot more than he did the last time but still not managing to finish the whole plate, he paid the bill, ignoring your protests. The two of you decided to walk along the beach after that and you felt sparks as your hand brushed his every now and then.

Focus on the article.

"So, uh," you cleared your throat, keeping your eyes trained on the sand beneath your feet, "What's the deal with this mission? Is it dangerous?"

Bradley chuckled, "Why? You worried about me, sweetheart?"

You rolled your eyes, "Bradley."

He shrugged, "All missions are dangerous to some degree." He stopped walking, and you followed his lead, "I had a really good time with you tonight."

You smiled, "I had a good time with you too."

"I was thinking, you never answered my question the other day." You frowned as he continued, "Did you forgive me?"

You let out a puff of air and glanced down at the sand, "I did. After a while."

"Why didn't you ask me to stay?"

You looked up at him, his eyes were glistening in the moonlight, never leaving yours, he looked vulnerable. You shrugged, "You'd been distant for a while. I didn't want to beg you to stay with me and I thought if I did, it might make you run further away."

Bradley sighed, "I regretted it. Leaving you. I always wanted you to know that."

You looked down to the sand, suddenly feeling a lump in your throat. "Everything happens for a reason, right?" You chuckled bitterly.

It had been such a long time since you'd really thought about Bradley and everything that had happened between you. This trip down memory lane suddenly had you feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

Bradley thought back to his conversation with Nat earlier in the day, "I was young and stupid. I never meant to hurt you like I did."

"You're not all to blame. I knew you'd been distant but I never said anything. Maybe if I did, we could have talked about it. Things might not have ended the way they did." You replied, shivering a little as the wind picked up.

Bradley immediately took his Hawaiian shirt off and wrapped it around your shoulders, leaving him in a white undershirt. He pulled you slightly closer to him and you thought your heart might explode. "I don't want to rush things," He said carefully, "but I'd really love to get to know you again. If you'll let me."

You looked up at him. It was on the tip of your tongue to mention the task your boss had given you, to tell Bradley the truth. But looking into his eyes in the dark of the night, his shirt wrapped around you and his fingers gently rubbing circles over your shoulders, you couldn't muster up the courage.

The only thing you could say was, "Yeah. I'd like that."

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 12

Part 12:

"Your apartment smells funny," Liana said as she entered the building and moved towards the main window. "We can buy a rug for the living room. Do you want one?" she asked after walking around the rooms in Patrick’s apartment. It was small. Living room, kitchen, bedroom, and a bathroom. It had been a month since she settled in the Oxford dorms. Patrick had arrived three days ago, and this was the first time they were meeting.

"Hey Amanda. I missed you too." Patrick leaned against the bedroom doorframe, watching her with amusement. She just couldn’t help it. She had to fix something. She would always find something that needed tidying and organizing. He had learned not to argue with this trait from a young age. He had learned that if he refused, she would withdraw into herself, and it would bother her until she could do something about it.

"Hey." She smiled genuinely and hugged him. Patrick looked almost the same as she remembered. Jet-lagged but pleased with his choices for a change. "Hey..." he refused to let go of her, inhaling her scent deeply like he always did when she allowed him.

"You're here." She took a step back and examined him, as if not believing it was really happening. As if she had been waiting her whole life for this moment. That’s how Patrick decided to interpret her facial expression, even if that’s not what reality was showing him. He would take the current smile any day over another day where she was at a certain point on the map and he was on the other side of the world. "So many possibilities, Amanda." He couldn’t stop smiling. "Let's find you a rug and some pillows for the couch, okay?" she replied, trying to solve the current problem she had found for herself; his apartment.

They wandered around London for hours. Stopped for lunch at a small Italian restaurant. Went into a small museum and did some window shopping at brand stores neither of them could afford. Liana’s laughter filled the space occasionally. A sound Patrick prayed to dream about when he would be alone without her scrutinizing gaze around.

As the sun set, they sat on the grass in a park near Liana’s dorms, each holding an ice cream cone. "I think I found a job," she said, trying to eat as much of the ice cream as she could before it melted completely. "Where?" he asked with curiosity. "There’s a cafeteria in Oxford that sells smoothies and other things that pretentious people willing to pay unreasonable amounts. I’ll probably start next week." She smiled, pleased with herself. "Will you be able to balance it with your studies?" he asked. "I have to try. My parents were barely willing to keep paying for my studies as long as I'm not at Stanford, and I don’t want to take an actual loan just to be able to pay for food. It feels unnecessary and lazy." She shrugged, as if it was self-evident.

"You're tough. You’ll make it. When do classes start?" he asked. "In a week. I’m stressed. But a friend of my roommate, Flor, is starting with me, and I met her. She seems nice." Liana chatted about people she had met in the past month. "You're nice." Patrick smiled his characteristic smile when he tried to dodge the implications of what he was saying. It was a toothy grin that included a dimple. It usually highlighted his eyes, showing something mischievous that at age 20 should have started to fade. But not with Patrick. "You're a jerk." Liana rolled her eyes and punched his shoulder, which automatically made him grab her hand.

Liana couldn’t help but think about Art. About the fact that it was the same gesture. Art had held her just like that at the Christmas party. She pulled her hand back and cleared her throat for a moment. Not wanting to change the atmosphere too much but feeling the shift anyway.

Patrick felt the change too, but it was like background noise. He understood something happened but didn’t know what. This wasn’t the first time he touched Liana. You could say he was a touchy person by nature. It wasn’t new and didn’t characterize just his relationship with her. "What just happened?" he asked with a chuckle, as if it wasn’t really important. As if it wasn’t serious. As if he could breathe properly and wasn’t trying to correct the mistake he made a moment ago. As if he wouldn’t do anything to make her laugh again and not look at him with furrowed brows.

"Nothing. It’s getting late. Shall we go?" she asked, with a smile that didn’t reach her ears. One that showed teeth but not all of them. One that hid from him what she really felt. He hated that smile.

"Patrick! You'll have ants in your house!" Liana scolded. No, she wasn’t just scolding; she was fuming. Three months had passed since Patrick moved to London. His coach, Kirk Fucking Morcich, was objectively the best coach he had ever had. He had improved tremendously. From the moment Patrick decided to take tennis seriously and not just as a way to avoid a real job, he started seeing results.

He still had to attend the annoying courses his parents signed him up for. But he had already won a tournament in Europe. Something he didn’t think would happen, and certainly not so soon.

His parents were proud of him. A strange feeling. An almost unfamiliar feeling. His mother called him and actually said those words, “Hey Pat, your dad and I read about you in the paper. Well done.” And he wanted to find something bad and start a fight because he didn’t know any other way to talk to his mother, but he said “thanks” quietly and felt himself blush. Like a little boy needing a kind word from an adult who was never really responsible. Not for what mattered.

“You can’t just leave your food out like this, Pat.” Liana interrupted his train of thought. “It’s not that bad.” He responded with an eye roll. “Patrick, it’s moldy. It’s been sitting on your table with actual mold. How am I supposed to wash this? It’s disgusting!” she fumed. Her cheeks were red, and her hand moved quickly over her nose.

“You don’t have to wash it. Did I ask you to wash it? Just throw the plate away; I have more plates.” He rolled his eyes again. “Why can’t you take anything seriously?!” Liana nearly stomped her foot. “Did we get married or something? Because this relationship doesn’t have the benefits of marriage, you just yell at me after I haven’t been home for a week.” He sighed and sat on the couch, officially tired of this argument. “No, Patrick, we didn’t get married, and sorry I don’t want you to die of dysentery while you’re living alone.” She shot back, and he heard the plate land in the sink. “So instead of throwing it away, you decided to break it?” He started getting angry too, because lately, that’s how all their conversations looked. Conversations about why he didn’t wash dishes, why he left the milk out, why he didn’t water the plant she bought him, why he didn’t show up at the bar her friend worked at, why he didn’t.

And he just wanted to tell her that if she acted like he was her boyfriend, then she should let him touch her the way he wanted to touch her. But they hadn’t had that conversation yet. He hadn’t told her that when he wasn’t thinking about tennis, he was thinking about her, and to be honest, if he wasn’t thinking about those two things, he was thinking about Art. And he knew she was thinking about Art too. And maybe they needed to have a conversation about fucking Art.

“I didn’t break it. Calm down.” She muttered. Liana had managed to somehow find herself in London. She couldn’t say that about any other period in her life. She enjoyed her studies and had met quite a few new people. People she liked being around. People she wasn’t embarrassed around and felt comfortable drinking wine with. She was a person who enjoyed wine now. Some might say Liana had grown up. She would agree with them.

One time, after drinking wine with her new friends, she called Art. She would say it didn’t happen until her dying day. She wouldn’t have anyone to say it to because he didn’t answer, and she didn’t plan on going around telling the world she drunkenly called Art Donaldson. It was embarrassing.

Patrick was always busy. Tennis. Fucking tennis. She hated tennis so much, and as someone who didn’t even know how to hold a racket properly, she couldn’t escape this terrible game.

So as close as Patrick had been during these months, he was still far away. She had hoped so much that he would be an integral part of this experience. That he would love London as much as she loved London, but he just loved playing tennis in London, and she was losing to the ball and racket again and again throughout her life. “I haven’t seen you in a week. Why are you mad at me?” Patrick stood up, moving towards the kitchen, leaning against the door in his characteristic way. “I’m not mad at you.” She rolled her eyes, her back to him, trying to wash the plate he ruined with food he didn’t clean up in time. “This is pointless.” She muttered to herself. “That passive-aggressive vibe might work with Art. It doesn’t work on me. Either tell me why you’re mad or let me go rest.” He said, not taking his piercing gaze off her back.

“Do you want me to leave?” She turned to him. Her expression made it clear she was hurt. She completely ignored the comment about Art. Patrick didn’t want to keep ignoring comments about Art. “I want you to tell me what you want from me, Liana. I don’t think that’s an unreasonable request.” He started moving towards her. “I don’t want anything from you, Patrick. You’re my friend. We came here together, and I care about you. That’s all.” She shrugged and looked everywhere in the room except his face.

“Liana.” He stood in front of her, demanding. Something in his tone made her look directly at him. “What?” Her voice was quiet. She hated her voice. Why did she always sound so desperate?! “Why are we fighting about dishes when you don’t live here? You understand that’s ridiculous?” He asked, not letting go and not changing his tone out of pity for her soft voice. “I’m not fighting with you. I want you to be reasonable. Do you think I enjoy playing mommy with you?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms beneath her chest.

Patrick stared at her chest. He didn’t even try to hide it. Fuck it. “You can’t act like we’re sleeping together while not sleeping with me. That’s absurd.” He realized he had said it only when he saw her eyes widen and her face turn red. “You think I’m hitting on you, Patrick? Is that what you think this is?” She asked, her voice unsteady. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. God. Why is this happening to her? “Eat from your disgusting plate with mold for all I care. I won’t say a word.” She said and tried to move past him. It was her cue to leave before this conversation escalated. He pulled her back with a quick but not overly forceful hand movement. She knew he had a lot more strength in him. She knew he was fire. In the pair Fire and Ice, he would always be Fire. “Patrick.” Her weak voice almost whispered. “You’re not hitting on me?” He asked, also in a low voice. He seemed relatively calm considering the storm of emotions within him.

Patrick decided he had nothing more to lose. He was improving. He was maturing. He asked his parents for help. He had moved halfway across the world to be close to her. He was becoming the best version of himself. And to be honest, Patrick knew that if Liana had settled for the mediocre and basic version of Art, there was no reason he shouldn’t at least try. So Patrick decided to try.

“No...” She bit her lip and looked at him without breaking eye contact. “Bullshit.” He laughed. He just laughed in her face and didn’t release his hold. “You’re walking around my apartment, dressed in short clothes in fucking December in London. Getting mad about plates. Liana. Even you can’t be that naive about what this does to me after a week of a tournament. A grueling week of victories without anyone to celebrate my success.” He considered kissing her neck at that moment. He thinks she would let him. Now, looking at her, he was sure she would let him do whatever he wanted with her. And he was a greedy bastard. He wanted everything.

“Liana. Look at me.” He demanded. Not letting go. She looked. “Why are we fighting?” He asked. The stern tone made her blink. “I missed you.” She said, defeated.

“It’s really hard when you’re supposedly here but not really here, and I know you’re here for tennis, but I wanted you to be here for me too, and it’s okay if we have separate lives here, I do too—” Patrick cut off her endless ramblings because he knew she wouldn’t stop talking if it was up to her. His lips found hers, and his hands held the back of her head. and somehow she actually kissed him back.

The feeling of Patrick’s lips on hers was different from the feeling of Art’s lips. Liana hated herself for comparing him to Art. She wondered if every person who will kiss her would automatically be compared to the person who hurt her the most. She wondered if that’s how she would live the rest of her life. And during these existential thoughts, she realized the bitter truth. Art Donaldson would be a part of her forever.

“Pat. Wait. We can’t. We can’t do this.” She put a small hand on his chest, and he took a step back. Because when a girl told Patrick she wanted to stop, he stopped. “Why can’t we?” He didn’t look amused. He looked angry and hungry and tired, all in the once. In the same body movements. “You know why” Liana sighed.

Silence fell in his kitchen.

"You don't owe him anything," Patrick stated. This time he felt like he's the one who could stomp his foot like a kid in the middle of a tantrum.

"I know." She bit her lip.

"I don't owe him anything," he said, this time not looking at her. Because if she saw his face, she'd know he was lying to himself. Liana always saw him. She saw him stripped of defenses. And his biggest defense right now was tied to the girl in front of him and the fact that they both missed Art. And he did owe him the love of his life.

Because Liana still didn't know what Patrick and Art both knew clearly; Patrick had won. She would be his the moment he decided so.

"Liana. Please let me kiss you." His voice was weak, and his gaze shifted to her. His eyes still screamed fire. Fire. Fire. Danger. Run. Fire. Stay away. Get closer. Fire. Danger. Fire. "Liana." He said again, closer now, breathing the same air she breathed. The air she exhaled entered his lungs. He moved his hand back to her neck. The other hand, unashamedly, grabbed her ass in a half-pinch. It was a grip that didn't retreat, didn't regret, didn't shy away. As if he was born to hold her exactly like this. Exactly how he wanted. "Patrick." She didn't recognize the sound that escaped her mouth out of surprise, but she recognized Patrick's smile just a second before his lips were on hers again. Patrick had decided.

Hey thereeee It's London and it's Patrick's time to shine. What are we feeling about everything? Talk to me. I'm dying to know what you're thinking as usual.

taglist: @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss