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hoshifighting · 3 months

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— Synopsis: Lonely!Seungkwan shows up at your fishing tent and goes fishing alone because his friends didn't show up. And you make sure he doesn't feel lonely by offering him company on your breaks. — WC: 3.2k — WARNINGS: Mentions of being left out, smut, fluff, penetrative sex, fingering, g'spot stimulation, squirting, oral (m. receiving), sk is mentioned ab being good with girls一he fucks u good because he likes you sm <3

[Issue Club Serie]

You arrive at the fishing center early, just as the first light of dawn breaks over the island bay. The salty tang of the sea air fills your lungs, a familiar comfort. Your dad's fishing center stands quiet and still, a stark contrast to the bustling weekends when groups of men flock here, escaping their everyday lives with beer and fishing rods. You brace yourself for another routine day of serving loud, boisterous customers.

But today is different. As you unlock the kiosk and roll up the gate, you notice a lone figure waiting by the entrance. He's much younger than your usual clientele, with dark brown hair that catches the early morning light. He’s standing there, hands in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.

"Hey," you call out as you finish opening up, "Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, I'd like to rent a fishing rod," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of shyness.

"Just one?" you ask, somewhat surprised. He nods.

You hand him a rod and watch as he sets up at one of the chairs by the water. He moves with a calm, practiced ease, casting his line into the bay and settling in. You expect his friends to arrive soon, but as the morning stretches into afternoon, no one joins him. He remains alone, reeling in a fish here and there with quiet patience.

The hours pass, and you lose yourself in the rhythm of your tasks. When the guy finally returns to the kiosk, you notice the slightly downcast expression on his face as he pays for the rental.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

He chuckles softly, "Not many options," he says, and you frown, wiping down the counter.

"What do you mean?" you probe gently.

"I invited some friends to come fishing with me today, but no one showed up," he admits, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. There's something about his cool, easy-going demeanor that makes his confession all the more poignant. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. "I'm sorry to hear that," you say sincerely.

He shrugs, offering a pained smile. "It's okay. No need to be."

But you can tell it does bother him. The way he looks down at his hands, the slight slump in his shoulders—it's clear he had hoped for more from today.

As he leaves, you find yourself hoping that next time, he'll have someone to share his fishing trip with. Until then, you'll remember the lonely young man who came to the fishing center, looking for company and finding only the quiet expanse of the bay.

A few days pass, and the familiar sight of the boy on his bike comes into view again. Your kiosk is already open as he pedals up. You glance at him and smile. “Good morning...?”

“Seungkwan,” he says with a small nod.

“How can I help you today?” you ask, leaning your elbows on the counter.

“One fishing rod, please,” he replies.

“Again,” you think to yourself. You give him a small smile and hand him the rod. He sets up alone, just like last time. You sigh at the sight. It’s a sunny Thursday, the perfect morning to fish under the warm sun with good company. With no customers around, you decide to join him.

You grab your fishing rod, some bait, and two glasses of cold lemonade. As you approach, you place the cups on the table next to him and your things on the floor. Seungkwan watches you set up a chair beside him, glancing at the two glasses. You start fishing by his side, and it’s completely silent. Seungkwan seems so used to being alone that your presence feels foreign to him.

After a while, the silence begins to feel natural. You break it, asking, “Is there a reason why your friends didn’t come today?”

He looks at you before turning his gaze back to the water. “Well, Joshua works a lot, Seokmin studies non-stop, Woozi doesn’t leave his home, and Jeonghan is dating right now. So... I don’t blame them.”

You hum thoughtfully. “They must be very busy.”

He nods. “They are.”

You hand him the lemonade, and he thanks you. Then, he asks, “Why are you fishing with me?”

“Well, I’m not exactly fishing,” you say. You both glance at your rod, which is just laying in the water, not cast far out, just resting on the sand.

He laughs. “Yes, I’ve noticed.”

You shrug, laughing too. “I’m used to selling fishing stuff, not really going fishing.”

“Then why are you fishing now?” he asks.

You smile. “I wanted to talk with you.”

Seungkwan looks surprised. “You don’t need to keep me company out of pity.”

“No,” you brush his idea away, “I really wanted to get to know you.”

Someone genuinely excited to know about him? He feels so happy he almost explodes. Every time you ask him about his favorite song, what he likes to do, what he’s studying, or why he likes to fish, he feels more and more content.

As the morning sun climbs higher, your conversations flow easily, the gap between two strangers closing bit by bit.

Seungkwan fights the urge to visit your dad's fishing center every day. He doesn't want to seem desperate. Each time he comes, he brings something new—a sweet treat, a fresh loaf of bread. You two have developed a routine of walking along the beach at sunset, feeling the cool waves lap at your feet.

Sometimes, he even helps you with the work at the tent. Your dad is charmed by his kindness, and you can't help but love Seungkwan's company too.

He's become like a keychain, always by your side. The thoughts of him being alone have dissipated since he met you. Your friends adore him too, though you sometimes have to remind them that you were his friend first. His good looks don't go unnoticed, and it’s hard to deny that you noticed his charisma from the first time you saw him.

Now, as you close the kiosk after a successful Saturday, Seungkwan helps roll down the window gate. Your dad has gone to take some goods to the city center, leaving just the two of you. You rearrange the fishing rods on the holder on the wall, glancing at Seungkwan out of the corner of your eye. darkened interior closed kiosk, you can see the outline of his physique through his tight shirt.

"Thanks for your help today," you say, trying to sound casual.

"No problem. I like being here," he replies with a smile.

You finish with the rods and turn to face him fully. "You know, you don't have to bring something every time you come."

He shrugs, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I like seeing you smile."

The words make your heart skip a beat. You step closer, his body resting on the counter "I like seeing you too, Seungkwan."

He seems to consider this for a moment, then says, "I don't feel so alone anymore, thanks to you."

The tension between you installs, but it's a comforting kind of tension, one that promises something more. In that moment, you realize how much he means to you, how much his presence has become a part of your life. The darkness of the kiosk feels intimate, like a cocoon wrapping around the two of you.

"You know," you say, trying to lighten the mood a bit, "you're pretty good at this fishing center stuff. My dad might start paying you."

Seungkwan laughs, the sound filling the small space. "I'd do it for free, just to be around you."

Your heart swells at his words. "Careful, or I might just take you up on that."

He grins, and the warmth in his eyes makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world. "Deal,"

You two start to notice how close your bodies have become, a proximity you didn't even realize until now. The air is thick with the shared breath between you and Seungkwan, heavy and shallow. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, and you sense him moving even closer.

"Seungkwan," you say softly, breaking the tension. "You said you were alone because of your friends... but I never asked if you had a girlfriend."

He looks at you, his expression serious. "No, I don't."

Your heart races as you gently pull on the hem of his shirt. "So, if I kiss you right now, there won't be any problems, right?"

He breathes out slowly, his eyes locked onto yours. "No problems at all," he whispers.

You take advantage of the intimate darkness of the kiosk, leaning in to press your lips against his. His body responds instantly, molding against yours. One of his hands finds its way behind your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss, while the other slides down to your ribs, fingers teasing the edge of your bikini, thumb sliding on your underboob before slipping under it to touch your nipples.

The sound of your kisses fills the small space, wet and urgent. "Kwan," you gasp, pulling back slightly to catch your breath.

He hums, eyes dark with desire as he looks at you. You turn quickly to lock the door, a preventable act. Before you can turn back, Seungkwan's body is pressed against yours from behind. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as his hips grind on your ass. You can feel the hard bulge between his legs pressing against you.

Your head rolls back onto his shoulder as you linger in the sensation, his lips finding your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses. His hands roam over your body, one slipping inside your shorts, the other trailing up to your boob.

One thing Seokmin had told you when Seungkwan brought you to meet him was that Seungkwan was really good with girls when they studied together.

You had forgotten it.

But now, with his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, under your bikini, as you grind against him, the memory suddenly resurfaces. You didn't even notice when you started moaning, your head resting on his shoulder, mouth open as louder moans escape with each movement of his fingers.

You feel so wet, as if you'd been swimming in the ocean, but the truth is that you're melting under Seungkwan's touch. He curls his fingers against your g'spot, and you quiver, your hand bumping against the wall, knocking a few fishing rods to the ground.

"C-cumin'," you warn, your hips rolling against his hand.

He intensifies the curl of his fingers, making them go deep into your pussy, reaching the spongy spot harder, making your body flinch up with the strength of his grip. His other hand holds your ass firmly against his cock, guiding your movements.

"That's it," he whispers in your ear. "Let go."

Your back arches, pushing your ass harder against him. The sensation completely consumes you, every nerve in your body is glowing with delight. Your orgasm builds rapidly, the tension coiling tightly in your core until it snaps, making you cum, his hand drenched inside your bikini. You cry out, your body trembling as you ride the high of your orgasm, Seungkwan's fingers never stopping their fast pace.

As you come down from your peak, he holds you close, his breath hot against your neck. You can still feel the hardness of his cock pressing against you, a constant reminder of how much you both desire each other.

He removes his hand from inside your bikini and shorts, and you can feel the wetness as he slides his hand up your belly. Your mind snaps to attention when you hear him sucking his fingers clean, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. You turn around, your legs like jelly as you manage to kneel between him and the door.

Your hands are desperate to find the hard muscle of his cock. Seungkwan braces himself by laying a hand on the door frame, and the sight of his cock, slightly slapping your face as you pull his boxers down, makes his knees quiver. The bulbous head rests against your cheek, smearing precum on your skin.

You relax your jaw, preparing yourself. Holding the crown of his cock, you prop your hands on his balls and take his perfect length into your mouth. You've seen a lot of beautiful things in your life, but hearing Seungkwan's moans is quickly becoming your favorite. He moans, sensitive to the slightest licks, and the sound makes you keenly aware of how wet you are, your bikini and shorts sopping together.

"God, you feel so good," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. His fingers tangle in your hair, gently guiding you.

You hum in response, the vibration making him twitch in your mouth. You take him deeper, savoring the salty taste and the way he fills your mouth. Each moan he releases, more you deepthroat him, your cum pooling between your legs.

Seungkwan's breathing becomes ragged, his hips bucking slightly as he tries to control himself, his grip tightening in your hair.

You pull back slightly, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock before taking him in again. The way he reacts to every touch, every flick of your tongue, makes you feel powerful, in control. You glance up at him, seeing the bliss etched on his face, lit bitten to contain his moans, and it only spurs you on.

The sounds of his pleasure, the taste of him, the feel of his body trembling—it's unforgettable. You lose yourself in the act, in the way you're linked, the darkness of the kiosk, the intimacy of the moment, everything else fades away.

He pulls you off him with a gentle but firm hand, panting heavily. "I don't want to finish like this," he says, voice hoarse. "I want to be inside you."

You nod, breathless and eager. He helps you to your feet, and you feel the slickness between your thighs, a signal of your arousal. Seungkwan kisses you deeply, hungrily, tasting himself on your tongue as he guides you to the counter. His hands roam over your body, shivers following whenever he moves them on you.

You lean back, feeling the cool surface against your skin as he pushes your shorts and bikini aside. Every nerve in your body alight with need., and Seungkwan seems very proud of the effect he was having on you.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

"Yes," you breathe, barely able to wait any longer.

With a final, searing kiss, he positions himself and pushes into you slowly, filling you completely, his cock so rigid, fighting to penetrate, as your pussy squelch around him. He starts to thrust in and out slowly, even gradually the feeling is intense, because you had already one orgasm, and Seungkwan was looking for his.

"Seungkwan," you moan, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support.

He groans in response, his movements becoming more urgent. "I can't hold back," he admits, his voice strained.

"Don't," you say, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer. "Faster, please," you ask, your voice desperate against his lips.

The request makes him nearly collapse to his knees, overwhelmed by your need.

Seungkwan adjusts his grip, holding your leg up with one hand under your knee, spreading you wider as he thrusts deeper. Your head falls back, strangled moans escaping your mouth as your eyes roll back in ecstasy. The sensation is overwhelming, the heat of his embrace makes you feel dizzy and weightless.

At a certain point, you become aware of Seungkwan sobbing in pleasure in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. You glance down, seeing yourself dripping onto the ground, squirting uncontrollably. You couldn't hold back even if you tried; the orgasm doesn't just crash over you—it overturns you completely.

You stare in shock, gasping for air as the longest orgasm of your life pulses through you. Your body convulses with pleasure, and Seungkwan's reaction only heightens the intensity. His raspy moans fill the air, his balance faltering as he tries to maintain his rhythm.

He pulls out of you, unable to hold back any longer, and strokes his cock with his hand. His cum spills onto the floor, mixing with your own fluids. His body convulses against yours, and you can feel his weight as he leans on you for support.

You're left trembling, unsure whether to hold onto the counter behind you or to cling to him. Your legs are weak, and your breaths come in shallow gasps. Seungkwan's body is still pressed against yours, both of you trying to catch your breath in the aftermath of such an intense experience.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice still shaky.

You don't answer, your breath still coming in shaky gasps. Instead, you pull Seungkwan into a tight hug, feeling his warmth envelop you. He hugs you back just as tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

The two of you stand there for a while, wrapped up in each other, trying to regain your composure. Your heart is pounding, but there's a sense of calm in the embrace, a shared understanding that words can't quite capture.

His hands move gently over your back, a soothing motion that helps you steady your breathing. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own.

Seungkwan finally breaks the silence, his voice soft and filled with emotion. "I don't want this to end," he whispers.

You nod against his shoulder, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Me neither."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, "I never thought I'd find someone like you here, I don't want to be alone again," he admits, his voice barely more than a murmur.

You smile, knowing that the day you decided to spend with this lovely boy, resulted in something like this. "I feel the same way."

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear you hadn't realized was there. "Let's not let this be just a moment," he says, his gaze earnest. "I want to be with you, really be with you."

Your heart swells at his words, the sincerity in his voice making you feel lighter than air. "I'd like that," you say, your voice steady and sure.

He smiles, and it's like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Good," he replies, leaning in to kiss you softly.

The kiss is gentle, a promise of more to come. As you pull back, you both laugh softly, the tension melting away into something lighter, more hopeful.

"We should probably clean up," you say with a small chuckle, glancing at the mess on the floor.

Seungkwan nods, a playful grin on his face. "Yeah, we made quite the mess."

Together, you set about tidying up the kiosk, the comfortable silence between you filled with a new sense of unity. Every now and then, your hands brush against each other, sending those butterflies to your stomachs. The mundane task of cleaning up feels almost ceremonial now—a simple act that solidifies the bond between you.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Someone New 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Tuesday! Ugh.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s nearly midnight in Norway by the time you’re free of the airport. The train station isn’t far; it’s part of the airport. You wait on a bench between the rails as your boarding is two hours away. You sit with your luggage and mope. This new land only adds to the gloom clinging to you.

You shiver as a draft flows down the tunnel. Not only is grey and grim, but it’s cold. It’s almost June but the weather is more akin to the cusp of winter and spring back home.

Your weeks of research couldn’t prepare you for the real things. All that anticipation could never compare to that moment of desolation; alone in this far land, away from everything you knew. Everything around you is new and foreign and unwelcoming.

When the train pulls up, you wait in queue with the other passengers. Some are native, speaking in lilted English or indecipherable Norwegian. Duolingo hasn’t done much for you as you catch only scraps of pronouns and verbs. Others are new arrivals like yourself but they seem much more certain of themselves. You feel utterly lost.

You show your ticket and board. You tuck your bag away with the larger pieces kept at the front of the carriage and hug your carry-on in your lap. You stare out the window as the train begins to roll on the tracks, screeching as it pulls out into the black night of this strange land.

The subtle rumble of the locomotive lulls you into a half-sleep. Your head is wrought with the ache of your building hangover and twisted visions of the life left behind. You hear Steve’s final goodbye, you feel the hug that was snugger on your end than his, and you feel the razor of Peggy’s spiteful eye. Even in a stupour, you can’t forget it. You hope Sam is right and that it will fade with time, yet you fear it might all be gone for good.

You wake as the automated voice announces your stop as the next one. You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. You’re trying to be optimistic. Just focus on work. That’s what this is all about. Everyone keeps saying it and you haven’t heard any of them. This is a great opportunity. What you’ve been hoping for all these years. How did you forget that?

You disembark and drag your bag behind your heavy feet. You’re exhausted but you still have a trek to go. Everything looks so different than back home. Small differences but enough to reinforce your displacement.

You find the rental car kiosk at the other end of the station and show your reservation. Work is paying for that too. Apparently, you’ll need it to get to the site. Another harbinger of desolation.

You hook up your phone to the built-in bluetooth and tap the address already saved in your maps. The app takes a moment to recenter and finally, you’re off. You wonder if you should even be driving. You’re definitely not drunk anymore but you’re barely awake.

It’s only an hours ride across the city, just along the ridges that look off onto the coast. It’s beautiful. You can see that even through your melancholy.

The morning rises as you get your key to the blue paneled townhouse. You should try to stay up to reset your clock but you’re jet lagged to the bone. The moment the door is locked, you let your bags fall to the floor and stumble through to the first piece of furniture you see. You collapse face first onto the couch, unable to feel the impact as you plummet into a deep sleep.

Time, space, and all your pain disappears. There is only the endless void of fatigue. Your mind is too tired to summon nightmares or nonsensical visions. Your body is so drained that even your brain is empty.

You wake on your arm, fingers tingling painfully as your shoulder muscles burn. You hiss and sit up. The bend of your fingers and a shaky attempt to move your elbow make you whine. Ugh. You rub feeling back into the limb as you lean against the back of the couch.

You look around, finally able to take it all in. The house is neat and sleek. White plaster and pale wood finishes. The couch you sit on is a sectional and there’s a match ottoman across from you. The TV mounted on the wall reflects the shadow of the archway behind you and the tall lamp in the corner and the stone and marble ornaments.

You rise, wobbling on your legs, and put your arms out to get your bearings. You meander through the townhouse. You can hardly admire the furnished interior as it underlines your loneliness. All this space for just you.

There’s a kitchen at the rear of the house, a large wooden island standing center to a fridge with a glass door and polished counters carved in granite. The tiles are pristinely placed diamonds in hexagons and a large window looks out into the rain-soaked yard. It’s night again, or maybe that’s what the daylight looks like here.

Upstairs, there’s a bedroom and a bathroom. A full tub and separate shower, two sinks set into a sparkling counter, and a wall of mirrors above them. It truly is a dream but why doesn’t it feel like it?

You amble down stairs and fish out your phone. The battery is at eight percent. You have several texts. All from Sam. You only remember then why you don’t see any from Steve. No, you won’t check.

You quickly type that you’ve landed safely and set the cell down. You’ll let it die before you plug back in. You need time. You need to get yourself straight. You need to accept that this is all real. You made this choice.

You’re starting over. It’s a new life and there’s no room for your heart here.

💟

You have the night to unpack, more than just your luggage. Still, there are things you can’t let out. Not yet. As much as the blade twists in your chest, taking it out will mean a deluge you can’t quell. For now, you just won’t think about it.

You sleep a few more hours and wake just before six. You have your bag ready to go for the day. You tie on your boots and pull on a lined jacket before braving the Norwegian summer. You lock the door behind you and yawn into the brisk air.

Before you head for the site, you stop at a cafe you see along the way. You get an egg biscuit and a coffee with extra espresso. You’re sure to add on a snack to eat between your work.

You drive towards the greater mountains and turn onto the road that angles up the side. You follow the curved ledge as the GPS guides you through the car speakers. The drive is two hours up, maybe a bit quicker on the way down. Suddenly, a ping sounds from the system and you glance at the screen; ‘signal lost’. Shoot. It’s okay. You think you’re almost there.

You pull over, not that there’s much space to do so. You have the physical maps you’ll use for the work itself. You find yourself amid the lines and symbols and memorise the path forward. You continue on cautiously, reassured as you’re met with a sign that delineates the site. The plot has already been closed off with a fence.

‘Grant land. No trespassing.’

You park just outside the fencing and grab your bag and your breakfast. You sit on the hood and eat as you look over the muddy site. You read the grant report. It’s here they think there was a settlement. Not a very big one but an important one.

The rock wall hugs the site in an almost perfect basin as the slick land is barren of almost any growth. You’ll start with gridding it all out, both with string and on paper. You clap your hands off and get up to begin. The process will keep your distracted.

You put your earbud in and set to task. You pause to sip coffee and mark the paper between planting the stakes and the string the twine to divvy it all up in squares. You watch where you put each step, the mud sucking at your treads. A wet site is never an easy one.

It takes the first day just to prep for digging and you don’t even think you’re done. You’re tired and achy and ready to go home. It’ll take you nearly three hours back by your guess. The night will be a short one as you figure you’ll need to head out earlier, especially if you hope to take advantage of the fleeting sunlight.

As you get back to the townhouse, it’s night again. You walk down to a fish restaurant just a block away. The faces are friendly and the food is good, but it all seems so bland. You eat and go back to your accommodation. Not home, just a place to lay your head.

You check your phone. Back amid the world of the living, you have a dozen messages; Sam, Bucky, your mom, Arturo. You respond to each of them in turn, assuring them that all is well. You don’t have the energy for much more.

Yet it isn’t up to you. Your phone chimes at you as you near the bed, sitting on the edge as you answer. You know with Sam that ignoring him will only make him worse.

“Hey,” you answer with an unrestrained yawn.

“Yo, how ya feeling?” he asks.

“Erm, tired,” you lean forward, crossing and arm over your knees. “How are things there?”

“Eh, usual. So, uh, did that paradise punch knock you on your ass too or am I getting old?” He chuckles.

“Heh, yeah, no I’m feeling it still,” you mutter.

“Mm, it’s late there...” he says, “sorry, if I’m keeping you up.”

“No, it’s fine. Just... a lot of driving.”

“Oh? You worked today?”

“Wanted to get a head start,” you shrug as you play with the fold of your pajamas across your knee.

“How is it? Is it bleak? Cold? Are the men gruff?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. Grey. Bit chilly but it’s not bad around noon,” you say dully, “haven’t seen much of the locals. With how long it takes me to get up the mountain...”

“Oh, a mountain,” he echoes enthusiastically, “that’s exciting.”

“I guess. Eats away the day.”

“I’m sure,” he agrees glumly, “hey, don’t forget to treat yourself. Take a weekend off and hit that spa.”

“I will. I just got here.”

“Well, we all miss you,” he says. “Bucky especially. We got in a huge blow out the other day over the string in his hoodie.”

“Of course you did,” you can’t help but laugh.

“Really, I didn’t do anything. I was trying to fix it and it just... slipped inside, I don’t know. I don’t think it was about the string,” he snickers. “Probably having to deal with Steve and his--” Sam stops himself, “sorry.”

“What? No, it’s fine. Really. I came out here to get away but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.”

“I know but you’re tryna forget him. Like you should,” Sam insists. “And he’ll realise soon enough what he missed out on all these years. And you need to do the same. Go out, explore, enjoy it. You’ll need to have some good stories to bring back to us here, we’re dying of boredom without you.”

“Yeah, uh, I’ll try,” you grumble, “anyway, I gotta head out early for the dig so I should let you go.”

“Right, of course,” he agrees, “don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

“Night,” he says.

You return a ‘good night’ and hang up. You toss your phone onto the pillow and heave as you clutch your head. You hate this. Why did you come all this way just to suffer? You should have just stuck it out. Sat on the sidelines like you always did and just swallow it all down. This is worse. Being so alone.

There’s no going back. Not now. So you just need to get through this and after... after you’ll just have to face Mr. and Mrs. Rogers with a fake smile and broken heart.

💟

The next week goes by much like your first days there. You wake up, drive up the mountain, plot, dig, clean up, and drive back. You sleep almost as soon as you sit down. You don’t have time to mull over what you left behind, not as you catalogue every bone and bead you come across.

You check in with Arturo when you can, just to confirm that everything is going according to plan. Often, you’re asleep when anyone else calls. You wake up to notifications from your mom and Sam and even Bucky. You should call them back but you just can’t. You can’t put on a fake voice for them. Not yet.

You take a day off. Only after Arturo insists. You know you should. You may as well have a proper grocery shop. You can’t keep living off the cafe and fish shop.

The shop feels more like a market. You pick through produce and meats, and get what’s easy. You’ll cook it all and package it up so you can just heat it up later. Some muffins to eat on your way up the mountain and maybe a few protein bars.

As you trawl the grocery store aisles, you pull out your phone. You have a pile of unread notifications from Insta. You don’t often check it anyway but your curious and a little homesick.

You see your mom’s post about her trip to the vineyard with her book club pals and Sam’s story with a very agitated looking Bucky. That makes you laugh. You scroll by some crafting videos and the pages you follow of castle curators living your aspirational goals.

Then you stop. You pull the cart still and go rigid as you stare at the screen. The image of Steve and Peggy burns into your retinas like a blinding light. It’s there engagement announcement. He has her in his arms, kissing her, as she holds out her hand to the camera to show off the diamond.

You can’t breathe. Your chest is on fire and your ears are ringing. It’s like salt in the wound and you don’t doubt it's intentional, at least on Peggy’s part.

Your hands shake as you grip the phone tightly and tap on Steve’s username. You ignore the rest of his profile and the pictures you know will only add to the turmoil brewing in your stomach. You hit the button in the corner and tap again and again. ‘You are about to block ‘starsnstripes18, are you sure’. Yes and yes!

You lock the screen and drop the phone into your purse, nestled into the basket of the cart. You grasp the bar and push the cart forward, steadying your steps with it. You look between the shelves and exhale.

You need to go cold turkey. No more Steve, no more Peggy, no more New York. You stood still so long, it feels good to run away from it all.

#steve rogers #thor #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #someone new #fic #grayish fic #angst fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers #au

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gretavanlace · 1 year

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Debauchery Defined

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, masturbation, dirty talk, dangerous situations, oral sex (m/rec), illegal activity (traffic related), etc. jake in a hat briefly - cause that shit deserves a warning. Probably typos, excessive italics as per usual, blah blah blah

“I’m sorry, sir, I have nothing under the name of Kiszka.”

The bored attendant, slouched upon a stool beneath an Enterprise sign, doesn’t even have the decency to sound mildly apologetic.

The sign is bright. Too bright for the hour. Too bright for the weary, sleep deprived, burn in your eyes. Just too bright.

Judging by the furrow in his brow, despite his ever present sunglasses, Jake shares your contempt for the fluorescent glow.

“I made a reservation days ago.” You reiterate, spelling his last name once more. Turns out, it’s a lesson in futility, as the clerk doesn’t even bother to type it in.

“I told you,” he snaps, fixing you with a glare. You sense he thinks it reeks of authority. It doesn’t. “There’s no rental reservation. Spell the name all night long if you feel like it, but it isn’t going to change anything.”

Jake, in a smooth rush, is leaned in closer - serpentine and quick in his movement. Yet, calculated, careful, eerily calm in that unsettling way he adopts when irritation is trudging toward anger.

His warning comes quietly, but it bears a menacing aura all the same. “Speaking to her that way is ill advised, I can promise you that.”

Your hand finds his arm, stroking soothingly through the worn hopsack of the blazer he layered on, hours ago, before your flight. “Jake, it’s alright.”

Never aggressive just for show, and certainly never overtly so, when Jacob feels someone is crossing a line with you, he is quick to polish his armor - a knight sweeping in to save his damsel in distress.

He relaxes visibly beneath your touch and navigates back to civility with a deep breath.

“Alright…” he flicks a glance at the name tag that rests crookedly on the other man’s shirt “Tyler. So you don’t have the reservation - we need a car. You have cars. Simple. Why is this an issue?”

He’s tired, and cranky…a long day of travel has leeched the patience from his bones.

Tyler, likely used to overwhelmed travelers frequenting the airport kiosk, remains unimpressed. “I have one available vehicle. Luxury class. Reserved for our most discerning clients.”

Jake rolls his eyes, clearly teetering on the edge of asking this asshole if he’d like to taste the back of his hand. “As it happens, I am discerning. How lucky for us. We’ll take it.”

Papers are signed, keys are exchanged, and finally, you’re schlepping through the hall leading to Parking garage B7, as instructed.

“Luxury for discerning clients.” He scoffs, hefting his bag, and yours, over his shoulder, though you continue to insist you can share the load.

His battered guitar case swings against his legs as he stomps along, “What an asshole. S’probably some boat of a Lincoln or something…I’m gonna look like a pimp.”

The wide-brimmed hat cocked low over his shades will be most fitting, then, won’t it?

Laughing at his dramatics - not so different from his twin, after all - you watch the doors whoosh open to reveal a deserted sea of concrete. Deserted that is, save for one lone sports car waiting beneath a flickering light.

You both stop short. “Or a frat boy douchebag.”

“Frat boys can’t afford cars like that.” You correct, nudging him to get moving.

He picks up the pace dutifully, “So, just a douchebag, then?”

“Yes, yes, Jacob…you’re very refined and everybody knows it.” You tease, ever the soft heart for his antiquated flare. “If anyone sees you, we’ll just explain that your horse and buggy are in the shop.”

His eyes rove across the lines of the car as you approach. Slyly sweeping over the glossy, black curves, almost hidden below the mysterious shadow of his hat.

“I’ll drive.” He mutters as if it’s no big deal, startling your feet to a standstill.

Never, not once, in the entirety of all the time you’ve known him has he ever offered to drive. In fact, now that you’re exploring the subject, you don’t think you’ve ever even seen him so much as graze a finger over a steering wheel.

“Do you…” you pause to collect your jumbled thoughts. “Do you even have a driver’s license?”

It seems strange, all at once - that you’ve never wondered about this before.

“What?” He laughs, finally shaking off the annoyance he’s been wearing on his shoulders for a few too many hours.

You wait while he presses a button on the key fob, opening the trunk with a smooth hiss, asking “well, do you?” as he dumps the bags, and his Gibson, inside.

You’ve seen him present identification hundreds of times, but you can’t recall it ever being anything but his passport.

“Purse in the boot or up front with you, darling?” He asks with an exaggerated swagger and flourish.

“Stop avoiding the question, Jacob.” You sigh, folding your arms as he slings your purse over his shoulder, abandoning Oliver, and moving to open the passenger side door for you. “Do you or don’t you?”

He waits until you’ve settled and then bends at the waist, offering a forehead kiss, and a secret. “I don’t. You wanna break a few rules with me, hall monitor?”

You feel your eyes widen as if he’s just confessed to casual murder for sport.

But you tamp it down and take hold of some perspective, this isn’t murder. Still, you don’t like it.

“Jake, don’t drag me into your debauchery. If you want to endanger the lives of hundreds of unsuspecting motorists, you can do it alone.”

In response, he swings the door closed and jogs around the sloping, gleaming hood, slipping into the driver’s seat, gentle and sleek as a sleepy housecat.

“I never said I didn’t know how to drive, baby,” he tosses his hat in the back and shakes out his waves, “just that I failed to revisit the DMV when ‘the man’ said my time was up.”

“This is stupid.” You slide down in your seat, careful not to reveal how much you’re enjoying the supple leather coasting along the backs of your thighs where your shorts have ridden up.

The opulence is an undeniable high. One you wouldn’t have expected, but there all the same.

He grins to himself, face lit up, beautiful and bright, like a little boy in a toy store. “Debauchery,” his voice is smooth as whipping cream. Smoky. Lazy. Like he plays behind the wheel of a flashy Porsche every day. “Immoral behavior that involves sex, drugs, alcohol, etcetera.”

“What?” You’ve begun to relax already. He is skillfully maneuvering the vehicle through the twists and turns of the garage. Okay, so maybe he does know how to drive.

“Debauchery. That’s what it means. It isn’t this.” He waves a hand, absently calling attention to the car. “But don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, my love. I’ll have you dragged down into the thick of it soon enough.”

Leaning back against the headrest, you decide to give into his whim and enjoy the ride. It’s lovely to be able to strip off the stress of the day and let him take over the department of transportation, for once.

As you study him, with the hum of the road and the purring engine serving as white noise, you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips.

“Jacob Kiszka,” you allow your grin to widen as it will, “I never would’ve guessed you’d be such a guy.”

He grabs for your hand, pleased that - as luck would have it - he has been blessed behind the wheel of an automatic…the absence of a gear shift leaves him open to holding onto you, and you are his favorite thing to hold.

“What are you on about?” Oliver pops in to say hello again, as is habit when Jake feels a bit too on the spot.

“Never once have you wanted to drive,” you remind him, lacing your fingers through his. “No matter how many times I tease you for being a passenger princess. Wave one fast car with a pretty paint job under your nose and you’re swimming in testosterone.”

A soft laugh is his only response as he coaxes out onto the freeway.

“You look good behind the wheel, baby. You know that?” Your free hand toys with a lock of his hair, smoothing it and twirling it around your pinky.

“I look good, always.” he sighs, feigning boredom as he weaves in and out of traffic to find his desired lane.

The further away from the hub of the city you drive, the more traffic begins to dissipate, until you seem to be adrift along some dystopian highway time has forgotten.

“How long?” You ask softly.

Staring out the window at the scenery whipping by sounds lulling, you might even fall asleep to it, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, and this calm, capable, skill set you never knew he possessed.

How like him to keep you on your toes, sharing bits and pieces of himself little by little. Doling out tiny Jacob Thomas shaped morsels only when he sees fit.

“Who cares how long?” He glances up at nothing in the rear view mirror. “This is nice.”

“It is.” You agree. Allowing the silence to wrap up warmly around you both again.

You watch him. And you watch him. And you watch him some more.

And you’d help it, if you could. Honest. The timing is most inappropriate. Not to mention, likely a little dangerous, but something about watching him command all that power beneath his hands has you weak. Submissive. Needy.

In moments of weakness in the dark, you’ve confessed that you feel the same watching him play. The way he makes love to his well worn and loved guitar. The way he coaxes sex soaked wails and whines from the strings, working his fingers faster and faster along the frets until the climax crashes apart, exploding into sound where there once was quiet.

The way he talks to her, the way he loves her. The way he knows her body just a little better than he knows yours, or even his own. It all makes you a bit jealous in the most decadent way. It makes you eager to showcase your worth as well, to sink to your knees in service to this god walking around amongst men.

He holds a brand new power and you want to slink into his lap and mewl like a kitten starved for attention. Instead, you settle for moving in closer, brushing a feathery kiss against his neck, nuzzling into the crook of it, unabashedly brazen with your want.

“Hello, my love.” His eyes never stray from the road, but his hand wanders your thigh, welcoming you. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m wet.” It’s a simple admission, but the way you hush it in his ear causes his cock to stir. It takes so little from you to pluck at his edges until he’s unraveling at the seams.

“Why’s that?” He adjusts in his seat, spreading his thighs just enough to make your head spin. “All I’m doing is driving a car. Is that all it takes?”

“Sometimes.” You sound pouty. It’s hardly there at all, but he hears it and he loves it. His spoiled rotten sweetheart.

“Well, I’m a little busy, love.” He slides his hand higher, silently wishing you had chosen a skirt today. “But you go on and be sweet to that pretty pink place I love so well. I miss your pussy, baby…it’s been such a long day. Miss the way you feel, the way you smell, the way you taste. I want you all over my face, fuck. Touch yourself.”

“Right here in the car?” You suck his earlobe into your mouth and the nibble over it as if he is an indulgent treat, because he is.

“Yeah.” He nods, grip tightening around the steering wheel, “Right here in the car.”

Maybe some other time you might toy with him a bit, dangle the string just out of his reach, but you’re further off track than he is at this point, so you shimmy out of your shorts and slide out of your sandals to rest your toes on the dash. Your knees fall apart as your fingers disappear into your panties with the tiniest moan when your fingers brush over your clit.

“Aren’t you such a good girl?” He pats at your thigh in praise, burying his grip into the soft, warm flesh there. Filthy, fucking dirty little thing, touching her pretty, wet cunt in a car we don’t even own just because I asked. So good, baby. Who’s my well behaved, darling girl?”

Sometimes you think his need to praise you rivals your own deep-rooted lust for receiving it.

“I’m your good girl.” You breathe, writhing slowly in your seat, drawing in the scent of sex and Italian leather, laced with the faintest hint of his cologne. It has faded with the hours, handing the spiced teakwood over to something a little more Jake…this is when you love it best.

“Then be my good girl and come over here. Come see me, sweetheart.” He extends an arm, casually inviting you in. You know what he wants, and you plan to give it to him.

For a moment, you're both illuminated in the golden glow of headlights traveling along across the median…he looks like the slickest snake masquerading as an angel. A serpent in the garden, ever tempting and cunning.

It’s all a front, as you well know. A role he plays when he wants to make you quake with desire. His heart is soft and kind, ever mindful of others, ever stuffed full of unending empathy and thoughtful love.

Unbuckling your seatbelt with a click that makes him frown, you slide over to the very edge and toy with the clasp of his belt, panting hot little puffs of breath against his flushed cheek, if only to stir him up further.

“You want that?” He lifts into your touch so you can feel how hard he is, all for you.

“Yeah,” tiny pecks of your lips chart his jawline. “Yeah, I want that.”

“Say it.” His fingers are in your hair now, curling into a loose fist near the nape of your neck, pushing you down. “Say you want my cock. Say where you want it.”

You’re hurrying now, tenderly fumbling with the buckle, hungry and desperate for it. “I want your cock, Jake. Want it in my mouth…in my throat.”

“Fuck…” it growls out of him strangled and tangled up with hot, salacious, greed. “C’mon, baby.”

You long to preen with pride; he wants it so badly, so suddenly - but there are more pressing matters at hand.

Both hands on the wheel now, he watches as you sink down around him, swallowing him so deeply, and with no real warm up, that you gag, sucking him down further anyway as you retch and sputter around his length, throat both fighting the intrusion and pining for more of it.

“Slow down.” His warning grits out through his teeth. He didn’t want to say it at all, slow is the last thing he wants. He wants to float off into it, stare focused and sure on the road, thoughts lost in the way you sound fighting around his cock, sucking and lapping over him, dying for just a little more, just another taste….

You shake your head adamantly, sending your soft, wet tongue slicking back and forth just along the base, nearly nudging at his balls as they tighten up for you. Every reaction his body hands over is all for you. Always for you.

“Fuck, baby,” his right hand drops to pet at your glossy hair as he fucks up into your kiss. “Gonna make me cum in that pretty little mouth. Feels so fuckin’ good. You want it?”

Nodding urgently, you bury your nose into the soft path of hair that trails below his belly button, choking until your throat is squeezed around him, strangling the thick head of his throbbing cock.

He’s twitching against your lips now, straining and pulsing, fucking throbbing. Obscene and depraved. Perfect.

“M’close, baby,” he’s murmuring raspy, stuttering, pleas as his grip tightens until your scalp stings blissfully. “Keep going, just like that, so close…baby, baby, baby, fuck…”

He’s whining and babbling, broken curses and hissing encouragement that barely makes sense. You couldn’t love it more.

Hollowing your cheeks, you suck hard on the updrawn and then relax your throat, plunging him straight to the back of it in one harsh go with a guttural sound that makes his thighs jerk.

You feel the slight hitch in the gas as he loses his footing on the pedal, and soothe him with a palm swept under his shirt until you can feel his heart hammering against your palm.

He regains focus - you can feel it - and then whispers a soft, “Thank you, sweet girl.” Grateful that your wits have prevailed when his own were waning.

You linger at the base, licking at what you can with his heavy weight cradled in your tongues embrace. He flexes violently, and you brace for it, gluttonous for the warmth of his release, and with a groan and gasp of your name, he doesn’t disappoint.

“Gonna cum, baby,” oh, he sounds so pretty. Trotting out the tiny whimpers that are saved for when he’s really lost in it. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, dontstopdontstopdontstop, fuck fuck fuck—“

Your taste buds dance with him, alive with the delicacy that is Jacob. So warm and perfect, covering your tongue, rolling down your throat, until you can feel him inside you, really inside you, in the way you love most.

He’s a mess above you, but you carry on until he is whining with overstimulation and begging you to stop, lightly pulling you away until you can just barely lap over his glistening tip as he softens against his splayed open pants.

You know he’s thinking of all the ways he plans to return the favor when he can properly get his hands on you, but as he catches his breath beside you and steals glances at you tucking his beautiful cock away, you feel completely, totally, blissfully, satisfied.

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#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #fanfic #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #gvf fic #jake gvf #josh kiszka #gvf smut #gvf fanfiction #gvf one shot #gvf jake #jake kiszka #jake kiska fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fanfiction

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coventgardenmarketdubai · 28 days

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Exploring the Best Outdoor Markets in Dubai

Dubai is renowned for its luxurious shopping malls, but the outdoor markets in Dubai offer a unique shopping experience that blends culture, tradition, and modernity. These markets are the perfect spots for both tourists and locals to discover hidden gems, from handcrafted goods to fresh produce.

Why Visit Outdoor Markets in Dubai?

Outdoor markets in Dubai are more than just shopping venues; they are vibrant hubs where you can experience the local culture, taste delicious street food, and find unique items that you won’t see in regular stores. Here’s why you should add them to your itinerary:

Authentic Experience: Unlike the polished shopping malls, outdoor markets provide a more authentic shopping experience. You'll interact directly with local vendors, who often have fascinating stories behind their products.

Unique Products: From handmade jewelry to exotic spices, the outdoor markets in Dubai offer a variety of unique items that reflect the city’s diverse cultural heritage.

Affordable Prices: Bargaining is a common practice at these markets, allowing you to get great deals on high-quality goods.

Top Outdoor Markets in Dubai

Here’s a list of some of the most popular outdoor markets in Dubai that you should definitely check out:

1. Ripe Market

Ripe Market is a favorite among both locals and expatriates. Held in different locations across Dubai, this market offers organic produce, artisanal crafts, and delicious food. It's a great place to spend a weekend morning.

2. The Beach Canteen

Located at Jumeirah Beach, The Beach Canteen is a seasonal outdoor market that features food stalls, local crafts, and live entertainment. It’s a perfect spot for a relaxed evening by the sea.

3. Al Seef Street Market

Set along the Dubai Creek, Al Seef Street Market offers a mix of traditional Emirati culture and modern shopping. Here, you can find everything from traditional garments to contemporary art.

4. Global Village

Although not a traditional market, Global Village is a massive cultural extravaganza that brings together pavilions from around the world. Each pavilion offers products, food, and crafts unique to its culture, making it a must-visit for anyone interested in global shopping experiences.

Tips for Shopping at Outdoor Markets in Dubai

Bargain Wisely: Negotiation is expected at these markets, but do it politely. Start with a lower offer and work your way up to a price that both you and the vendor are happy with.

Visit Early: Arriving early means fewer crowds and better chances of finding the best products.

Cash is King: While some vendors accept cards, it’s always good to have cash on hand, especially for smaller purchases.

FAQs about Outdoor Markets in Dubai

Q: What are the best times to visit outdoor markets in Dubai? A: The best time to visit is during the cooler months, from October to April. Markets usually open in the morning and close by late evening.

Q: Are outdoor markets in Dubai tourist-friendly? A: Yes, they are very tourist-friendly. Vendors often speak English, and many markets cater specifically to tourists, offering souvenirs and local crafts.

Q: Can I find traditional Emirati products at these markets? A: Absolutely! Markets like Al Seef Street and Ripe Market offer a wide range of traditional Emirati goods, including clothing, spices, and handicrafts.

Q: Is bargaining acceptable at outdoor markets? A: Yes, bargaining is a common practice in Dubai’s outdoor markets. Vendors expect it, so don’t hesitate to negotiate the price.

Q: Are there any food options at these markets? A: Yes, most outdoor markets feature a variety of food stalls where you can try local delicacies as well as international cuisines.

Conclusion

Exploring outdoor markets in Dubai is a must for anyone looking to experience the city’s vibrant culture and find unique products. Whether you’re a tourist or a resident, these markets offer something for everyone. Plan your visit to one of these outdoor markets and discover the hidden treasures of Dubai.

Source:- https://kioskdesigndubaiuae.blogspot.com/2024/08/exploring-best-outdoor-markets-in-dubai.html

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ledscreendubai · 4 months

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#led screen #led #ledscreen #led display #leddisplay #digital signage #digital kiosk #digital kiosk dubai #outdoor led video wall #video wall rental

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afreakingdork · 2 years

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Crush Too Much - Part 22 - Finale

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Longing, Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis: So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something more than you bargained for.

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

So, saying you were rushed didn’t even begin to cover it. As your feet pummeled the pavement, you dodged twilight pedestrians on your way to the next subway station. This wasn’t exactly how you thought tonight would go, but when was the last time you’d been able to plan for anything when it came to Donatello Hamato. Barely grazing an middle aged woman with too many shopping bags, you skirted the sudden drop in concrete. Glaring down the hole, you watched as a grouched man around your age sized up your rushing figure with discontent.

“Don’t bother, this one’s down too!” He grumbled.

Your bady sank around your racing heart. “You’re kidding?”

A woman several steps below him, leaned into view. “The line’s down actually.”

“What?” The man spun around, pointing his malcontent at her.

She seemed unfazed. “I got a text from my girlfriend. Someone busted the tracks and they’re scrambling to reroute.”

All three of you harmonized a groan. It was one of the things you loved about New York. They departed and you frowned, leaning against the station’s entrance. Pulling out your phone, you brought open your text chain with Donnie. It had only been a single day since you’d confessed your feelings for one another and the walls of text were boiling over. You had to scroll back with several lengthy swipes just to get to the last message you had seen. It was something you sorely needed to bring up. For him, the love was fresh and ready to be outpoured. It wasn’t as if you weren’t excited to reciprocate, but you’d barely been given time to breath, let alone adjust to this new mindset. A little over 24 hours ago you were agonizing over cutting him out of your life entirely. Now you were his ‘darling’ and attempting to be on time for your first date. That is, if you could get there.

Already, Donnie had cancelled picking you up because of some sort of garage door malfunction. It wasn’t that big a deal, the subway should have been an easy alternative. Skimming the wall of text you had yet to read found a slew of apologies and promises to make it up to you. Giddy at his tooth-rottingly sweet assurances, you touched a hand to your chest. If your fluttering heart was any indications, these worries would soon be long forgotten, but until then you were sorely stuck in the adjustment phase. You were more than prepared to spin his excitement in your favor. It was all about framing. You knew him well enough that this was just like him; jumping headfirst and headlong into passion projects was Donnie at his finest. He just needed to be told directly and in person that that kind of dedication aimed at a person could be overwhelming. It was getting to him now that was the biggest problem.

A quick glance at your bank balance found a taxi ride would decimate your budget. Wanting to eat some time in the future and not wanting to keep a presumably overexcited Donnie waiting, you began to run once more. Thankful you hadn’t gone all out dressing up, you grappled with clogged sidewalks until you spied a rental bike. It’s location outside of a bodega said that it was probably still in use, but you snatched it up anyway. You threw a silent apology towards the business’ door as you heaved the thing up onto your shoulder. Running down a few more blocks, you located its kiosk and checked it back in so you could then reserve it yourself. With payment squared away, you hopped on the seat and took off.

Making relatively good time, you ditched the bike at approximately the closest dock to the garden and made up the rest of the distance on foot. Pressing two fingers to your throat, you attempted to will your heartbeat to even out. It came down with your breath and so began a rapid preening process to make yourself presentable once more. Sighing without a mirror, you squared your shoulders and approached the entrance. There were no signs of purple, but glowy neon emanated from the grounds. You found it hard to tear your eyes away from it as you fumbled for your phone. Its screen read you were 17 minutes late and your lips parted with a frustrated whine. Shuffling in place, you quickly threw up your text thread realizing you’d failed to mention the subway debacle. Sighing, you shook your head as you had to filter through about seven new messages. There was something about a phone call so you swiped your status bar to find three missed ones. Your head lolled back as you slammed one with your thumb and used it to ring your overzealous boyfriend.

“Dearest!” His voice waned with minor irritation. “There you are!”

“Donnie!” You mocked the tone back at him. “I forgot to message you!”

“Yes, I had to look up the track delays. You weren’t on board were you?”

“I doubt I’d get this good of reception if I was!” You didn’t mean to be snippy with him, but after your rush to get over here you weren’t particularly in the mood to deal with criticism. “Where are you? I’m here.” Spinning around, you still found no sign of him.

“You’re there…” He not only trailed off, but his voice dropped off as well.

“Where are you?” You pressed again, a sort of annoyed fear jolting in your veins.

“After locating the travel hindrance and taking into account your lack of response, I thought it would be best to go and pick you up...”

“Pick me-?” You began and stopped. “How far did you get?”

“Your apartment.” There was a sheepish quality to his voice.

You pulled your phone away and groaned loudly.

“It was a romantic gesture?” He offered; the tinny sound of rotors followed.

“I just…” You brought the device back and scooted over to a nearby wall to lean. “Ran so far…”

“That excited to see me?” He crooned as wind rushed around his voice.

“I didn’t want to be late.” You shook your head. “That didn’t really work out.”

There was a pause with only a gusty static coming through the line. “I suppose I am also at fault.”

“Maybe.” You teased as your annoyance began to recede. “I even stole a bike.”

“Dating a criminal!” Donnie huffed. “Say it isn’t so!”

“You got me.” Turning, you kept an eye to the sky. “It was one of those rental things. I did take it from someone who was still using it though.”

“I can’t help but feel you are still leaving parts of your story out.”

You chuckled at his knowing tone and regaled him in your journey. By the time you were both up to speed, you spotted his telltale purple lights. You watched as he descended and walked out of the landing as if he wasn’t the embodiment of mankind’s dream to fly. He strolled up to you and you caught his gloved hands on the way. Heat pooled in your finger tips on contact and you swept your gaze up to his face.

“Hi.”

“Greetings.” His voice was honeyed and you all but melted as it hit your ears. You were further liquefied as he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

Now this part you had no problem with.

“I apologize for the rocky start.”

You shook your head. “It happens. Did you figure out what was up with the garage?”

He turned toward the entrance and offered you his arm. You slotted your hand into his elbow and he lead you to garden with only a minor ticketing stop. “I didn’t have the time, though I suspect there’s a leak.”

“It is the sewers.” You mused, other couples cropping up as you walked a designated path.

“You wound me!” He bumped you as you walked and you leaned into the motion. “That is obviously one of the first precautions taken when setting up a good underground lair.”

“Silly me. It must be my public school education; I missed my lair making class.”

“That and how to file taxes. When will America learn?” He hummed as lights began to twinkle on the horizon.

You perked up and he quieted. Jaunty music filtered in as the glowing gardens came into view. Your eyes darted around excitedly. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

With only silence as a chaser, you turned to find him staring at you.

“Ravishing.” He seemed to find himself, but the molten look in his eye stayed.

You were caught, but the crowd dictated the necessity to keep moving. With Donnie’s hand atop yours to steady you, he dipped his head down. Your lids drifted shut in anticipation when a large explosion sounded across the garden. You snapped away from each other and looked at a loom of smoke pouring out of the conservatory.

“You’re kidding.” Donnie groaned. Underhand you felt his muscle's tense.

“Maybe… it’s just a heater malfunction?” You offered anxiously. “It’s like a hot house in there, right?”

“Well, yes, but I somehow doubt-”

A burst of flames shot out through a hole in the glass dome.

“It is-!” Donnie threw up an indignant finger at the structure. “-my date night! My night!!”

A high pitched evil cackling sounded from afar and both of you slumped in response.

“Maybe a different vigilante could handle it? After all these years you can’t be the only ones, right?” You pressed out, the question thin to your ears.

Screams of wayward civilians followed the maniacal laughter.

He gave you a saddened smile. “Regretfully, I am technically always on the clock.” Donnie sighed. “I seem to recall there was a mutant corpse plant here, but I thought he’d moved to a warmer climate years ago.” You slipped your arm free of his and his hand disappeared into his coat. When it remerged his staff telescoped to full height and purple pixels flickered off of it. You blinked at them wondering if it was a trick of the lights. You’d seen him form objects out of thin air with his ninpo, but nothing like this. “Stay back until I come to get you?”

You nodded dumbly and he took off. The first of the people fleeing from the building finally hit your walkway and you stumbled out of their way. The music cut off in favor of an announcement to take cover. You sighed and teetered off the path and onto the grass. Keeping your eyes to the conservatory, you watched as something round was shot straight through a pane and disappeared into the night sky. You tried to remember if something like that was in Donnie’s repertoire when a different voice seemed to crack through the frenzied crowd.

“It’s over here! Keep that camera rolling!”

Spinning around, you watched as a two man news crew fought against the throng of people. You recognized the field reporter instantly.

“April O’Neil!” You shouted out before you realized what you had done.

Zoning in on her name, April waded through the crowd. “Well, hey there-” She halted and spun around to glare at her camera man. “Dale, cut the dang feed!”

“But y-you just said to keep-”

“I know what I said!” April snapped at him, before turning a sugared smile to you. “Y/N, right?”

“You know who I am?” You wished you could reign in how star struck you were.

“Of course I do!” April slung an arm around your shoulders. “Who would I be if I didn’t run an extensive background check on my little brother’s boo?”

“What?” You swallowed hard.

“Buck up, I didn’t do so hot in geometry either!” She patted your cheek and slipped away, resuming her reporter aura. “What’s the scoop?”

You stared after her feeling tossed around. “The building sort of exploded. Donnie took off a few minutes ago to deal with it.”

“I see…” Excitement flooded her voice before she turned a gritted grin back to you. “Oh…” Her tone dropped heavily with dismay. “Y’alls first date…”

“Yeah…” You mimicked her grimace for a moment before a thought occurred to you. “Wait, you aren’t here to cover whatever's happening?”

“This mess?” She pointed as another round object smashed out of the dome and into the sky. “Nope! We’re here covering all this.” She swung her hand around to the lights. “I’ll just come right out and say it: I accepted the puff piece on the GLOW exhibit opening because I wanted to see how cute y’all were together.”

“I thought there was some deal to not interfere?” Though she was new to you, she exuded such a similar energy to her brothers that you couldn’t help but fold your arms in disappointment.

She remained unfazed. “That was for before y’all got together; statue of limitations.” She gave a punctuated wink.

You stared at her dryly. “I know you rigged the make-up fiasco.”

You watched a tiny crack form in her façade. “Now, now! There’s a fight we should be covering!” She grabbed your shoulders and spun you to face the dome.

“Wait-!”

“Don’t you wanna see Donnie in action!?” She shouted, already propelling you towards the building.

“He said-!”

“He’s a worrywart!” She chirped, speeding into a run and starting to lap your lagging form. “Dale! Camera!”

“Got it!” He shot back, obviously close behind.

“April-!” The conservatory was looming closer by the second.

“Don’t worry! You’re in good hands!” She tossed a wink over her shoulder as she dragged you straight into the building.

As soon as you breeched the dome, you indentified three separate voices and the distinct sounds of a fight. You weakly followed April and Dale as they tucked themselves into a corner.

“Now remember, we scrub turtle footage, but eat up bad guys!” April directed as she got into character.

“Motion blur and shakey cam as necessary!” Dale replied automatically, readying the camera.

Giving them some space, you took several steps to the side and realized there was a break in the greenery. Your little foliage frame was empty until it wasn't. In a split second, two orange forms in garish tights slid in with their backs to you. You got to watch with near front row seat as Donnie spun into frame. Your heart shot up into your throat as he spun his tech-bō around him with ease. During the skirmish he had sonehow lost his sweater, coat, and accessories. It left him in only his boots and winter pants. His muscles rippled as he whipped the staff around, purple pixels flitting off of it. Knowing you were ogling, your breath further left you as you caught the way his markings glowed a similar color. Awestruck, you leaned in closer.

“Come on, guys!” Donnie huffed, dropping his heroic stance to flop to an annoyed side. “I’ve basically won so can we just call this a night?”

“No way! We didn’t get our first course yet!” One of the orange figures stomped with frustration.

“And you haven’t seen our new regeneration skills!” The other form, flicked out an arm and you got sight of an enormous claw.

“Let it be known I tried reason.” Donnie shrugged and threw his staff out. The purple from him emanated a little brighter as energy swirled along the staff to form an outrageously large huge mallet. “Let’s see just how much you can regenerate!”

You felt like shrinking down. If anyone was to view this fight at this exact instant, they’d definitely peg Donnie as the villain. He reared back and the two mutants readied their claws. You tensed and all other sounds seemed to fall away as Donnie pivoted. The purple hammer came around, but a bright shine of blue light drew your eye away. A portal opened up just to the side of both parties. You watched as, within an instant, Mikey's shell rocketed out of it and collided with his brother who, in turn, was sent flying into the vegetation. Your jaw dropped as Mikey's limbs pipped out and he landed on his feet in a readied stance.

“Alright, whoever you are!!” Mikey shouted, facing the wrong direction. “We’re gonna wipe you out so fast, Donnie won’t even know what hit him.”

“I’ll know EXACTLY WHO HIT ME!!!” Donnie screeched from somewhere deep in the dome.

“Donnie? Wha-?” Mikey got out before one of the orange forms fired four claws straight into the younger brothers back which sent him flying as well.

Your shoulders dropped at the absurdity. You had watched what you now pegged for crab mutants fire off their hands like they were guns. It was almost as ridiculous as their circus outfits.

Raph and Leo stepped through the portal in near sync.

“For the record, I don’t think blindly throwing Mikey in was the best plan if we’re trying to keep on the DL.” Leo snapped as the portal closed behind him.

“He wouldn’t stop asking!” Raph sighed, catching a glimpse of the crab mutants. “You guys, seriously?!”

“What is with the reception tonight, geez!” One of the crab mutants rolled his shoulder.

“You happen to be interrupting something very important.” Leo turned and though his tone read amused, there was a burning rage in his eyes that you had yet to see from him.

“We gathered as much.” The other crab mutant raised his claw and fired off a few shots that the two brothers you could see dodged with ease.

“Just pack it up then!” Raph growled. The older brother spun around and instantly locked arms with one of the crab mutants.

The two grappled as Leo skittered a new line of shots from the unencumbered mutant. “Mikey, any day now! Let’s wrap this up!”

“Great covert work!” Donnie appeared out of a bush, dragging Mikey by his shell.

“I told you!” Leo turned on Raph who was still in a grapple.

“Hey, Don….” Raph nervously elongated the greeting. “We… were, uh, hoping to clear this up and not interrupt your date!”

“Next time try to be 11 minutes early.” The purple brother gripped, hoisting Mikey around and onto his feet.

“I feel like I’m getting unfairly blamed for everything!” Mikey pointed out, shrinking down as Donnie loomed from behind him.

“I was about to crush them!” Donnie shouted causing Mikey to hunker down more.

“Date, huh?” A hushed voice ask from your side.

You nearly jumped out of your coat. “W-wha-?!”

“This is a cute place for a first date, I get it.” The crab mutant folded his claws and gave a genial nod.

You rose a shakey hand to point at him, your skin growing paler by the second. His size dwarfed you to an intimidating degree.

“Where ya going after this? Dinner?” He looked at you with an excited gleam in his eye.

You gave a single fearful nod.

“You know I was craving Italian, but I had a bad time the last time I ate it, ya know?” He shook his head. “I ate a few things, but I feel like it was the calzone that did me in. You think I’ll be good if I get it again? Should I avoid calzones? Maybe it was just where we ate?”

“You’re not… going to hurt me?” You finally managed to string some words together.

“Huh?” He seemed utterly taken aback. “No way! We’re not interested in that! We came here to get a nice salad going, but Ben couldn’t stop thinking about this charred caesar he heard of and got us caught!”

“Salad?” You parroted, some color returning to your face. By all accounts, it really seemed like this guy wasn’t going to use you for leverage. You remembered your earlier comment about a heating malfunction and your shoulders drooped further at how ridiculous this all was.

“Duh, the salad is pinnacle to Italian because it offsets all the carbs!” He threw out his arms and gestured around the dome. “But places around town always have the worse lettuce. I’m sick of iceberg! And since it’s winter, the co-op doesn’t have any good alternatives!”

“You’re apart of a co-op?” Your fear was all but forgotten and all that was left was your incredulous husk.

“Uh doy.” He turned to you as if you were the ridiculous one. “The freshest foods and you only have to put in some time to get them? It’s a no brainer.”

“It’s good for the community too.” Leo used one of his blades to peel back the bush you were both standing in front of.

“See, even he gets it!” The crab mutant gestured to the blue hero.

“Hey, Carl.” Leo raised a hand and shifted his hips to one side.

“What do you think about calzones, Leo?” The being you now knew as Carl turned his attention away from you.

“Wouldn’t touch ‘em!” Leo stepped forward and up to you.

“Dang!” Carl probably would have snapped his finger if he had thumbs.

“I have no idea what’s going on.” You told the blue hero weakly.

“Yeah, this is not how we were hoping to preserve the evening…” Leo grimaced and looked over his shoulder. There seemed to be more infighting amongst the brothers than with Ben who only seemed to be stoking the flames. Turning back to you, he gave a lopsided grin. “When you give your big wedding speech about how integral I was to your union, you can leave this part out.”

Carl immediately perked up and started excitedly looking between you two.

“Wedding!?” You screeched, red exploding on your face.

“I thought this was a first date?!” Nearly prancing, Carl gushed.

“It would be, but…” Leo spun his sword around and gestured between the two crab mutants.

“Ooooh!” Carl winked as he seemed to grasp what Leo was getting it. “Ben! Let’s bounce!!”

The alert not only signaled his brother, but all the other brothers not party to what was happening. Donnie immediately spied you and nearly fell over.

“We getting calzones or what?!” Ben turned and started heading towards the conservatory door.

“Leo says no!” Carl called back, shuffling around you to head in the same direction.

“Are you just letting them go!?” Donnie hissed, stomping over.

“They wanted a salad…” You told him, nearly enfeebled.

“What?” Donnie’s head shook with confusion.

“Oh, April!” Leo sang out. He crossed between you and his brother, passing you a glance. He winked as eye contact was exchanged and mouthed what you were sure was a ‘leave now.’ The haunting phrase left you especially confused as he then skipped away.

“’How we spinning this one?’” April responded, knowingly. “I got a few ideas! Dale!! Playback!!!”

Over Donnie shoulder, you noticed as Mikey zeroed in on you. There was no malice there, but something about the look sent a chill down your spine.

“Let’s run.” You snatched Donnie’s hands to telegraph your urgency.

“Run?” Donnie began to turn his head to look.

“No!” You gave a small tug. “I already heard from April! They think the ‘no meddling’ agreement is over since we’re together now!”

You were thankful at how fast Donnie took in this information and processed it. “Tell me where and we’ll go.”

Already in motion, you pulled him as you pointed towards one of the holes in the dome.

“Hey, guys…” Raph called out a warning.

Donnie nodded and in a flash you were both airborne. You held on tightly as you rocketed straight through the opening.

“They’re getting away!” Mikey’s shout was the last thing you heard as the icy night air bit at your cheeks.

“We’re getting away, scoff.” Donnie’s voice grumbled from above you.

You shifted in his arms. “You think they’ll really let those guys get off that easy?”

“The Sando Brothers? They would if we had stuck around.” Donnie huffed, pulling you tighter. “Where is our next destination anyway, darling? Shall we go ahead with dinner?”

Your lip pursed at the nickname. Not only had you not been able to talk to him, but everything about the evening had been a sheer disaster. You shook your head and wondered where it had all gone wrong. It seemed to be so much larger than just a malfunctioning garage. You blinked, clarity washing over you as the cold had. You turned to look up at him and in turn he gave you a patient smile. You softened at it. “Lou, Mike, Tony, Tony's Pizza.”

The tender look disappeared from his face and was swapped with distaste. “Are you-?”

“It has to be there.” You doubled down on your look to make up for the lack of his.

It brought the faintest blush to his cheeks and he adjusted course. “If you’re sure.”

For the most part the flight over was quiet and the city sparkled below you amongst the darkened sky. When you landed, the street outside of Bro’s Pizza was nearly empty. You wobbled as you adjusted to dry land and Donnie looked at the darkened pizzeria’s door with a sneer.

“10:59pm.” He clicked his tongue as he checked his phone. “This place never closes on time!”

“It’s perfect.” You whispered tenderly.

The warmth oozing from your tone immediately caught Donnie’s attention and he turned to approach you. “I’m confused, dear.”

“Enough of that.” You shushed him and shucked off your coat. He watched with tempered curiosity as you slung the fabric around his shoulders. The fabric barely came around his arms.

“I don’t know if I can thank you for this.” He was near laughter.

“We need to start over.”

He froze and looked down at you, stunned. You stared back at him evenly and your hands left his person. Instinctively, he reached up and caught the coat to keep it from falling away.

“I…” He searched your face and you watched fear creep up his.

You wanted to brush it away, but you needed to make sure you had his full attention for this. Anything less and it wouldn’t stick in that overworking mind of his.

“I know tonight was less than ideal, but that doesn’t mean it has to set the tone for our relationship!” Fear gave way for desperation and you took a few steps back as he tried to reach out to you.

“Donnie, listen.” Folding your hands behind your back, you leaned forward to garner his attention. “Take a deep breath.”

He watched you with an anxious gaze, but his chest lifted as he followed the command.

“This is moving too fast. I know we’ve been at this for way too long, but the pet names, the date expectations, Leo joking about our wedding reception…” You trailed off and watched as a similar explosion of red painted Donnie’s cheeks as yours had.

His arms darted out in a set of rapid movements your eye couldn’t keep up with. “I swear to you that I've plotted no such thing at this time!”

“I didn’t think that, but good to know.” You beamed him a smile and it seemed to ease some of his nerves. “So, I think we should start fresh. Obviously we can’t erase all the time we’ve had together, but let’s rethink of our relationship as one just starting out!”

You watched as he churned your words over in his head.

“I’m calling a do-over.”

Realization dawned on him as he looked back to Lou, Mike, Tony, Tony's Pizza’s darkened door and then back to you. He opened his mouth, but you held up your hand to stop him. He gave a nod of understanding and you could see the watery endearment in his gaze.

You could feel your eyes mirror his so you squeezed them shut to precent any happy tears. Building up your courage, your heart raced wildly. As your meter maxed out, you opened your eyes with wide determination. Staring Donnie down, you took a few tentative steps forward and did what you should have done all along.

“Hi. I have a crush on you. Can I have your number and also will you go out with me?”

Donnie lunged forward and scooped you up in a fervor; your coat forgotten on the sidewalk. You both giggled, your cheeks red from the cold.

“Yes. I'd love to.”

THE END

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