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mrsbarnesblog · 1 year ago

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i can't let you get hurt

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: You have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, reader is Steve's adopted sister, mechanic Bucky, creepy behaviour, protective Bucky.

Author's note: Does anyone know if community labels are reducing the number of likes and reblogs? because my last post received a suspiciously small amount of notes🤔 but I'm afraid to remove them because Tumblr might decide to block me again

Moving to New York was the idea that has been sitting in your head for a long period of time. Since your adopted brother Steve finished high school, he moved there without any money, without friends, and only with a lot of desires and dreams. You stayed in your small town with your and Steve’s adopted parents because you were only fifteen at the time. It’s been almost five years, and right now he owns an auto repair shop, and as far as you know, it’s a pretty successful place.

You knew that you had nothing to lose; you had no opportunities in your city, no close friends, and it was a really boring and gray life.

Steve only visited you two times, but you regularly spoke on the phone. So when your plane finally landed and you met him, you were kind of a crying mess. He was still your closest person, and you loved him with your whole heart. Steve was now much bigger, with broad shoulders and arms that were probably the same size as your head, but he still had that golden retriever energy, which you really loved.

Steve helped you find your apartment building, where you rented a small and cozy flat from a nice old lady. It wasn’t too much—just a bedroom and living room connected with a tiny kitchen and bathroom. Everything was clean, with light furniture and a lot of plants. It was actually surprising that this place had an affordable rent, and you were happy that luck was on your side.

On the next day, your brother finally showed you his famous place, which he owned with his now best friend Bucky Barnes. And talking about him, he was something else. A tall, big man with fluffy chocolate hair, stubble, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen. You knew that you were fucked as soon as he looked you directly in the eyes, shook your hand, and gave you a charming smile.

You met almost everyone in the garage. All the guys were super nice and friendly, they even showed you all of their cars that they were working with. You were happy that Steve found such a family here, they were all obviously so close to each other.

Yet, after a month here, you had almost no friends. You found a job in the coffee shop down the street, where you met an amazing redhead girl named Wanda. You chatted a lot during the work, but you two were still far from friends.

That's how you ended up here. On a date with John.

For some reason, you decided to give that stupid dating app another try. John found you there, and he seemed nice, so when on the second day he decided to invite you to a bar, you agreed without hesitation.

How long has it been since the last time someone asked you out? Year? Yes, it was a little sad to realize that no one was particularly interested in you. Before moving to New York, all the guys you talked to seemed to only want one thing, so you had high hopes for John.

Your evening went well at first. You ordered a drink and chatted. He really seemed nice. After the second drink, you decided to stop for a bit because the alcohol started to make you feel dizzy, even though John was persuading you to taste more of the cocktails that he had brought you .

"You know, I think I better slow down with drinks; I really don’t want to be drunk and embarrass myself on the first date." You pushed your glass back a little, smiling politely.

"Oh, c'mon, baby, don’t upset me." John chuckled and put his hand on yours. You awkwardly smiled, not ready for such physical contact. "You’re here alone, right?" He tilted his head, and you didn't miss how his eyes stopped at your boobs.

"Um, not exactly... I mean, I know like five people in this city, and one of them is my brother. But we don’t live together; he has his own life." John nodded his head and leaned a little closer to you.

"So it means that we can have some fun, right, baby?"

"Fun?"

"Mhm." One of his hands stayed on top of yours, and the other one suddenly fell on your leg. Your body tensed at the feeling of his fingers as they started to rub the bare skin of your inner thigh. You definitely didn’t expect it to happen. "I’ll take an Uber; we’ll go to my place, and we can continue our night. What do you think?"

"I didn’t want to—I mean, that’s not what I was looking for—I thought that we were going to just talk and drink, you know…" You tried to take his hand off of you, but his grip only became harder.

"Don’t try to run away now, baby." He grinned. "You dressed up for me, huh? Your tight little dress that shows your boobs says it all. You just want me." You felt goosebumps all over your body because of his look. It was intense and not as innocent as it was before. You felt disgusted because of his words. You wanted to look good, yes, but seducing him wasn’t part of your plan.

So what are you going to do now? You felt unsafe, and you didn’t know how you could escape this situation. He was obviously a creep, and he just wanted to have sex with you. You can’t go home because either he won't let you go or he might find out where you live.

"O-okay- um- just let me- I’ll go to the restroom real quick, and we can go, okay?" You nervously smiled and stood up, almost spilling your cocktail.

"Someone’s excited, huh?" He laughed, looking at your body up and down.

You left without an answer. You really went to the restroom because the bar was half empty, and John would’ve definitely seen you going out. Luckily, the restroom was empty. You locked the door and looked at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do.

You reached into your purse to get your phone. The first person that came to mind was Steve. Only long beeps were heard, and after the third call, you gave up.

"Fuck, Steve, I really need you right now." You scrolled through your contacts again. It wasn’t a lie that you knew five people from New York. Steve was not answering his phone. Your neighbor Natasha and Wanda from work, were not your close friends, so it would’ve been weird to call them because of this. There was a number of an old lady who rented you an apartment, and she was obviously not an option. And there was another person.

Bucky.

Calling him in this situation was the last thing you wanted to do. Hell, he probably won’t even answer you because he thinks that you’re just his best friend’s little sister, and he’ll definitely make fun of you about this stupid date. But you had no other variants.

"Hello?" He picked up his phone almost immediately, and you even forgot what you wanted to say. "Y/N? Are you okay?" His deep voice was full of worry, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"H-hey, Bucky. Um… I’m really, really sorry that I’m calling you, but Steve is not picking up his phone. Do you know where he is?" You walked around the small room, trying to calm down.

"Yeah, he’s meeting with some girl he's been talking about for days. He’s probably really busy right now." He chuckled, and you felt like you were about to cry. Bucky must’ve heard your breathing change because he immediately went silent. "Doll? What happened?"

"My God, it’s so stupid…" You squeezed your eyes, not wanting to cry.

"Tell me."

"I’m at the bar. I’m on a date with a guy named John, and he became very persistent. He wants me to go to his place, but It’s- I’m not interested in this. And I can't just leave because I’m afraid that he can follow me and find out where I live… fuck I really don’t know what to do, and I wanted to ask Steve to pick me up." Your phone stayed silent for a few moments, and you already thought that he got tired of your mess and just ended the call. "Bucky?"

"Where are you? What bar? Are you in the restroom?" His voice was low, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with all of this.

"It’s that new place a few blocks away from my crib. With big neon red signs at the top. And I’m in the restroom right now."

"I’ll be there in five. Stay there and don’t open the door until you know it’s me." He said that and ended the call, leaving you nervous and excited at the same time.

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump. Fastly, but quietly, you reached there and tried to listen for any signs of who it could be.

"I hear you. Open the door; it’s me." The familiar voice came from behind the door.

You opened the door and met Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes. He seemed a little bit out of breath, as if he had run here. You quickly scanned his body, and the fact that he was wearing your favorite leather jacket made you weak in the knees. His dark brown locks that curled at the ends almost asked you to touch them. It was not your fault that this idiot always looked ridiculously hot every single time.

"C’mon, let’s get you home, doll." He grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bathroom to the bar, where you immediately saw a clearly annoyed John. You saw that Bucky looked at him too, but he stopped only when you were already on the street and when your bad date ran after you, loudly calling your name.

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going? We were supposed to go to my place! You already found someone else to fuck or what?" He yelled, grabbing your other hand at the same time. You felt Bucky quickly move you behind him while still holding your wrist.

"Don’t fucking touch her. She’s leaving, and if I ever see you near her again, I'll rip your useless hands off. Understood?" Bucky growled, straightening his body. He was obviously bigger than John, who was now less brave. John looked at you for a few seconds as he was thinking about what he should say to you, but then just turned around and left. Apparently, you weren't worth it.

You didn’t know whether it was the cool night air or this whole tense situation that made you tremble. You felt Bucky’s warm body get closer to you, and his large, calloused hand rested on your shoulder. It made you feel a little bit fuzzy because you were trying so hard to hide your little (big) crush on your brother’s best friend. Yeah, it was the biggest cliche, but you couldn’t even blame yourself. He was extremely beautiful, with those blue eyes, rosy lips, and a body that you knew was built like God's. Not to mention that Bucky was sweet and a true gentleman.

"You’re shaking, doll. Wait a second." He started to take off his jacket, and you tried to stop him.

"Bucky, no, what are you doing? You don’t have to; it’s not even that cold!" He just playfully rolled his eyes and still threw a jacket over your shoulders, leaving himself only in the tight black shirt. God, this man.

A sudden wave of his cologne surrounded you. Bucky always smelled good. Something clean with a spicy and woody scent. The leather was still warm from his body, and you fought against the desire to bury your nose in it. You didn't even realize that you actually did it, so when you opened your eyes, you saw Bucky, who had this annoying grin on his face.

"So you like it, huh?" He chuckled.

"Oh, shut up. I didn't want to do that."

"Of course, doll. But we should go, I have to take you home safely, right?" Bucky said, leading you to the parking lot. To a motorcycle.

"A motorcycle?" You asked Bucky as you stepped closer to him. "No, I—where’s your car? I’ve never ridden on one of those." He had already sat there and had two helmets in his hands.

"I left it in the garage and didn’t want to make you wait here for too long. But you don’t have to worry; I know what I'm doing, and I'll take care of you. I promise." You came closer to him and let him put a helmet on you. You really tried not to tremble as his hands gently fixed it under your chin. "Now sit behind me and put your legs here." He pointed at the weird looking thing.

You felt weird as soon as you sat in the passenger seat. Bucky was so close, and you could feel the warmth of his body even if it was cold outside. Where should I put my hands? Hug him? Put it behind me? You awkwardly placed it on your own legs, and Bucky must’ve immediately felt your tense body because you heard a chuckle, and the next moment he grabbed your hands and put it around his waist. "You should put it right here, doll. You don’t wanna fall, do you?"

You slightly shook your head before you placed it on his back. It was really hard to control yourself when your hands were laying on his hard press. For fuck’s sake, he should be perfect everywhere, huh?

"Hold on tight, Darlin'." You heard another deep chuckle, and he finally put his helmet on.

You don't know how long you were driving, but when Bucky finally pulled up outside your apartment building, you felt sad and happy at the same time. The ride was something else. This man almost gave you a heart attack when you stopped at a red light and he put his hand on your bare leg and asked if you were okay.

He’s just being nice, stop overthinking this.

You knew Bucky for only one month, but it was hard not to fall for him. He was an attractive, kind, and really generous man; you knew that he was like a part of Steve's family. Sometimes, when you visited your brother and accidentally met Bucky, for a few seconds you thought that maybe he finds you attractive. You always caught him looking at you.

But you knew this type of guy—always charming and flirting—who could have pretty much anyone. It was stupid of you to think that he saw you as something more than just Steve’s little sister.

"See, I told you that I was a good driver and that you'd get home safely." He hopped off the motorcycle and stood before you while you were trying to take the helmet off. "Let me unlock it."

"Thank you, Bucky." You said when you were finally free. "For this, for the jacket... You were probably very busy, and I just ruined your night by making you take care of me. Oh my god, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to forget about one person, and I thought that going on that stupid date would be a good idea, but it seems like the only thing that men want here is sex." You chuckled and watched to the ground.

"Now listen to me, doll." Bucky suddenly stepped closer to you, and you almost fainted when both of his hands took your face and forced you to look him right in the eyes. "You shouldn’t apologize for calling me. I was just hanging out with the guys from the garage, but as soon as you called me, I left everything because I can’t let you get hurt." He nervously licked his lips, and you hope that he didn’t notice how you stared at this movement. Bucky’s hands left your face and ended up on your upper arms. Did he come closer to me? "I don’t know who you were trying to forget about, but I hope that he or she is worth your time."

"We– we’re not really close. I’m probably not even his type." You shrugged. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he buried his hands in the jeans pockets, as if he was angry and tried not to show you. As soon as he made a distance between you two, you body started trembling.

"Is it someone from the garage?" His head was a little bit tilted to the side, and you knew that right now he wouldn’t shut up about it until you gave him a name. "Maybe Sam? Or Thor? Many girls like him, you know. Do you like show-offs like Stark? Or…"

"You."

You both were silent.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What were you thinking?

"Say it again." Your throat felt dry, and you just stared at him, not knowing what to do.

"I– Just forget about it, Bucky. It’s stupid–"

You weren't able to finish because a soft pair of lips interrupted you. One of Bucky’s hands cupped your face, lifting you up to his level, and another one laid on your waist. He was soft, warm, and gentle when his lips moved on top of yours. Your head was in the clouds, and it felt like your knees became weaker. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck, completely melting into him. He wanted to stay like this forever. Your skin and your lips were so soft, he could smell your perfume and taste your sweet lip gloss. But he knew that he should stop and do it the right way. After a few seconds, he finally pulled away, but he put his forehead on yours, and it was so cozy, like you two were in a bubble.

"I’m sorry. Was this too much? I overstepped?" He licked his lips as if he were trying to get more of your taste. "I have been thinking about asking you out since the day I saw you. I wanted to do it right. To take you on a date, to be the gentleman that you deserve, and maybe get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Sorry. I didn’t even know that you liked me." Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, and you nuzzled into his neck, enjoying his scent.

"And I didn’t know that you liked me either. I thought that you felt obligated to take care of me because I'm your best friend’s sister."

"No, I promise you." He kissed the top of your head. "But Steve’s gonna kill me, by the way. He told all of us that you’re not an option and that we can’t touch you."

"Well, I love him, but he can’t decide for me."

"So… Does this mean that you’ll say ‘yes’ if I ask you to go on a date with me? On Sunday, maybe?" You lifted your head to look at him properly, and God, he was so cute when he was nervous.

"Of course, Buck, I wanna go out with you." You smiled at him, and he lowered himself again to give you another sweet kiss on the lips.

"Fuck, you should go home, doll. You’re too sweet for your own good. Wanna keep you all for myself." He mumbled against your lips. "Go."

"Goodnight, Bucky. Please text me when you get home, ‘kay?"

"I will. Goodnight, Doll." You left a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek before finally turning around to go home.

Only at home did you realize that you were still wearing his jacket. At least it was a good excuse for Bucky to see you again sooner. That night, you both ended up texting for hours until you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Maybe a date with John wasn’t that bad of an idea.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine

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apothe-roses · 1 year ago

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I Wanna Ride

modern Aemond Targaryen x reader

Part 1

Summary: After finally getting your hands on a ‘dragon’, you find yourself needing help with repairs. Enter hot yet rude mechanic Aemond Targaryen

Fic contains: swearing, Aemond beings prick, I think that’s it?

A/N: I’ve been sitting on this fic for weeks and am finally ready to post it. I tried to use the right terminology, but I know fuck-all about biker culture so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Hope you enjoy!

“No fucking way.”

Alysanne Blackwood turns and looks at you, mouth agape. “You actually got one.” You smile back at her, practically vibrating with excitement.

“I know. I didn’t fully believe it myself til I saw her in person.” The ‘her’ in question was a beat-up white motorcycle that was currently sitting in your workshop, but this wasn’t just any old bike. No. This was a dragon. The top of the line. Even non-bikers knew a thing or two about dragons. Made by Targaryen Corp., these beauties were prized for their powerful engines, speed, and endurance. The model you picked up was a Meraxes—one of the earlier models that has since been retired.

“I never thought you’d actually pluck up the nerve to buy a bike for yourself. Much less a dragon.”

“You know I’ve always wanted to learn to ride,” you tell her.

“Yeah, but you never acted on that. Well, ‘til now,” Aly quips.

“I already know more than enough about bikes,” you assert.

“Fixing a dragon and riding one are two completely different things.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t do both.”

“We’ll see,” Aly laughs. You smile back, shoving her playfully.

That had been six months ago. You were so close to being ready, but you'd hit a roadblock in her repairs. No matter what, you just couldn't get the transmission to run the way you wanted it to.

"If you stare at that engine for much longer, it's gonna burst into flames," Alysanne muses. You look over your shoulder and shoot her a glare. She only giggles at you, hopping off the workbench she was sitting on.

"You know, there's nothing wrong with needing help every once in a while," she says.

“I know,” you sigh back. “It’s just…”

“Too stubborn to admit defeat?” she teases.

“No!” you answer back a little too quickly.

“Maybe,” you mutter, turning your gaze towards the floor. “It’s also the money.” Mechanics who worked on older bikes were hard to come by in your area, and the ones that were in the area charged an arm and a leg for their services.

"Listen, I know just the place for you to go. There’s this one place Cregan loves to frequent. He swears up and down they're the best in town. I’ve met the owners several times, and they’re trustworthy. One of them even specializes in older bikes like this gal right here," she pats one of Meraxes's handlebars. That piques your interest. You knew Aly’s boyfriend was a man of his work, so this place must be good if he says so.

“And will this specialist leave me up to my ears in debt?”

“They’re pretty far when it comes to prices for service. Plus, you can always come to me if you’re short a few bucks,” Aly replies, going to grab her phone. You grimace at the thought. You love Aly and appreciate her generosity, but you don’t like the idea of inconveniencing herself to help you (even if she comes from a rich family). Aly walked back over to you, phone in hand.

“Do you want your bike fixed, or are you gonna stay stuck at a dead end for who knows how long?”

You look at her phone, open to the Contacts app, then back at your bike. You let out a sigh.

“What’s the name?”

That's how you found yourself pulling up to Green Auto Shop in the passenger seat of Aly’s pickup truck, your precious Meraxes securely tied down in the back. It was a rather unassuming garage located not far from Blackwater Bay. Alysanne looks over at you from the driver’s seat. "Don't judge a book by its cover," she says, undoing her seatbelt and opening her door.

You scramble to follow her as she walks confidently into one of the garages. You see a pair of legs sticking out from beneath an old car. Music blares in the background mixed with the sound of metal on metal.

"Egg," Aly shouts over the ruckus. "You've got company." The man working under the car slides out, giving Aly a bright smile. You can't help but gape as Aegon fucking Targaryen walks over to greet the two of you. You've heard and seen a lot about the eldest son of Viserys Targaryen. He has quite the reputation for drinking and partying, but the Sunfyre—a model he masterminded—is one of the company's most popular. In all the photos you've seen of him, he always looked sullen and hungover, a far cry from the relaxed and cheerful man before you.

"Aye, it's Cregan's girl, "he greets, wiping his hands off on a dirty rag. His gaze shifts to you, giving a quick once-over. “And who is this?” He asks flirtatiously while sauntering over to you. “Hi, I’m Aegon,” he holds a mostly clean hand out.

“She’s my friend,” Alysanne replies, pushing her way between the two of you. “And she’s here to see your brother, not you. She’s having trouble with her bike and could really use his help.”

Aegon pouts and puts his hand over his heart. “You don’t trust me, Aly? I’m wounded.” He rubs his hands together, walking out to the pickup. “Now let’s see what my little bro’s got to work with.” Without waiting for permission, he hops into the truck bed and whistles at the bike.

“Never thought I’d see a Meraxes in person again. Aem’s gonna have a field day with this beauty.” Aly grabs his pant leg and gives it a tug. “Off,” she orders. He hops back onto the pavement, his hands raised in mock surrender.

“Where is your cryptid brother? It feels like he’s never here,” Aly asks.

“You just missed him. He went to grab lunch,” Aegon responds. “He’ll be gone a while, but we can talk pricing in the office?” He leads the two of you back into the garage, to a small office off to the side. As you feared, the service would be quite expensive, but Aegon set you up with a payment plan. That put you at ease a bit. You’re also worried about the fact that you haven’t met the person who will actually be working on your bike. You voice your concerns to Aly over burgers that evening.

“Aemond isn’t…the best with people, but what he lacks in people skills he makes up for in his work. Cregan claims he’s a miracle worker after he fixed his Direwolf following a gnarly crash,” Aly reaches across the table and gives your hand a squeeze. “Trust me, your baby’s in good hands.”

About a week later, you borrow Aly’s truck to swing by the garage and check on your bike. One of the doors was up, but Aegon was nowhere to be found. You wondered if he left the garage open by mistake, but you could hear noises coming from in the garage.

You tentatively walk to the entrance and peek inside. Your Meraxes was propped in the bay where you’d left it. Someone was kneeling in front of it, clearly at work. His back was turned, so all you could see was his back and the long, silver hair pulled into a bun at the nape of his neck.

So this must be the elusive Aemond. You knew significantly less about him than you did his other siblings. Him attending public events was rare, and taking photos at said events was rarer.

Cryptid indeed.

You take a tentative step into the garage. He doesn’t notice you approaching, completely engrossed by the bike.

“Um, hello,” you say shyly. He goes rigid, the wrench falling from his grasp. He turns to look at you, and your brain shuts down. You fully expected some kind of Quasimodo-looking guy based on how everyone described Aemond. But this man looked like a Greek statue come to life.

From his nose to his cheekbones to even his lips, he was all sharp angles. One of his eyes was covered by a simple black path. The other was a soft blue, almost periwinkle. The coveralls he’s wearing are unzipped down to his navel, showing the dirty white singlet underneath.

“Can I help you?” He asks briskly, rising to his feet and snapping you out of your daze.

You’re taken aback by his bluntness, a far cry from Aegon’s relaxed demeanor.

��Yeah…I’m here to pick up my bike,” you reply, indicating to the bike behind him.

He gives you a small ‘hmm’ and grabs a rag to wipe his hands. Your gaze is drawn to his long, elegant fingers and the prominent veins that trail down from his arms.

“Your transmission clip was loose,” he explains curtly. “Had to replace it.”

He walks over to the bike, swings a leg over, and starts her up. The engine revs without a problem.

“Crazy how something so small can cause such a large problem,” you say. He once again doesn’t respond, only kills the engine and moves away from the bike. An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you.

“Sooo…how many of these older bikes do you usually—“

“I need to get back to work. You can talk to Aegon about payment and such. He’s in the back,” Aemond interjects, turning and walking away from you. Your mouth falls open, eyebrows raised.

“O-okay. I was just trying to make conversation,” you mutter.

“Well, I Don’t have time to ‘make conversation.’ I’ve got work to do,” he replies, back turned.

“Apparently, you Don’t have time for manners either,” you snap back.

Aemond turns to you. “Excuse m-“

“Hey! What’s going on?” Aegon rushes in from a back room. He smiles, but his eyes glance nervously between the two of you. “I see you’ve met my brother.” Aemond casts his gaze towards the ground, giving yet another ‘hmm.’

Unfortunately, you want to tell him. Instead you say, “I can give you the first payment now.”

“Awesome! Let’s handle that in the office, shall we?” Aegon asks, ushering you away without waiting for a response. Not that you needed to give one; you were more than eager to get away from Aegon’s rude brother. You pay Aegon, then the two of you head back into the garage. Aemond is nowhere to be found. Busy my ass, you think, trying not to grimace.

Together, you and Aegon load your Meraxes into the bed of the pickup. When you're done, you both lean against the side. Aegon turns his head to look at you.

“Sorry ‘bout Aemond. He’s not…the best with people. But he’s wicked good at what he does. This shop wouldn’t be running without him.”

You don’t say anything, only giving a small nod in response.

“Hey, if you’re free this weekend, there’s a meet going on near Visenya’s hill. You should come. It’ll be fun,” he explains with a small smile.”Ask Aly about it. She should know all the details.”

“Alright,” you tell him. “I’ll be there.”

Next Part

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond x reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern aemond #I Wanna Ride Aemond fic

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inmyicyworld · 1 year ago

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I can't let you get hurt

Bucky Barnes x Reader (brother’s best friend AU)

Summary: you have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: language, reader is Steve’s adopted sister, creepy John Walker, John is commenting reader's clothes, Bucky is a big softie, protective Bucky, idiots in love, fluff.

Author’s note: I’ve wanted to finally start writing for a long time. so I decided to share my thoughts and dreams about this man (aka my husband). English is not my first language and I’m really sorry if you find any mistakes. it’s my first attempt to trying to write in English so I hope it’s not that bad.

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

You knew that you had nothing to lose; you had no opportunities in your city, no close friends, and it was a really boring and gray life.

That's how you ended up here. On a date with John.

Your evening went well at first. You ordered a drink and chatted. He really seemed nice. After the second drink, you decided to stop for a bit because the alcohol started to take a toll on your head, even though John was pushing you hard with the new drink he brought you.

"You know, I think I better slow down with cocktails; I really don’t want to be drunk and embarrass myself on the first date." You pushed your glass back a little, smiling politely.

"So it means that we can have some fun, right, baby?"

"Fun?"

"O-okay- um- just let me- I’ll go to the restroom real quick, and we can go, okay?" You nervously smiled and stood up, almost spilling your cocktail.

"Someone’s excited, huh?" He laughed, looking at your body up and down.

You reached into your purse to get your phone. The first person that came to mind was Steve. Only long beeps were heard, and after the third call, you gave up.

"Fuck, Steve, I really need you right now." You scrolled through your contacts again. It wasn’t a lie that you knew five people from New York. Steve was not answering his phone. Your two neighbors, Natasha and Wanda from work, were not your close friends, so it would’ve been weird to call them because of this. There was a number of an old lady who rented you an apartment, and she was obviously not an option. And there was another person.

Bucky.

"H-hey, Bucky. Um… I’m really, really sorry that I’m calling you, but Steve is not picking up his phone. Do you know where he is?" You walked around the small room, trying to calm down.

"My God, it’s so stupid…" You squeezed your eyes, not wanting to cry.

"Tell me."

"Where are you? What bar? Are you in the restroom?" His voice was low, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with all of this.

"It’s that new place a few blocks away from my crib. With big neon red signs at the top. And I’m in the restroom right now."

"I’ll be there in five. Stay there and don’t open the door until you know it’s me." He said that and ended the call, leaving you nervous and excited at the same time.

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump. Fastly, but quietly, you reached there and tried to listen for any signs of who it could be.

"I hear you. Open the door; it’s me." The familiar voice came from behind the door.

You opened the door and met Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes. He seemed a little bit out of breath, as if he had run here. You quickly scanned his body, and the fact that he was wearing your favorite leather jacket made you weak in the knees. His dark brown locks that curled at the ends almost asked you to touch them. It’s not your fault that this idiot always looked ridiculously hot every single time.

You don’t know whether it was the cool night air or this whole tense situation that made you tremble. You felt Bucky’s warm body get closer to you, and his large, calloused hand rested on your shoulder. It made you feel a little bit fuzzy because you were trying so hard to hide your little, big crush on your brother’s best friend. Yeah, it was the biggest cliche, but you can’t even blame yourself. He was extremely beautiful, with those blue eyes, rosy lips, and a body that you knew was built like God's. Not to mention that Bucky was sweet and a true gentleman.

"You’re shaking, doll. Wait a second." He started to take off his jacket, and you tried to stop him.

A sudden wave of his cologne surrounded you. Bucky always smelled good. Something clean with a spicy and woody scent The leather was still warm from his body, and you fought against the desire to bury your nose in it. You didn't even realize that you actually did it, so when you opened your eyes, you saw Bucky, who had this annoying grin on his face.

"So you like it, huh?" He chuckled.

"Oh, shut up; I didn't want to do that."

"Of course, doll. But we should go, I have to take you home safely, right?" Bucky said, leading you to the parking lot. To a motorcycle.

"A motorcycle?" You asked Bucky as you stepped closer to him. "No, I—where’s your car? I’ve never ridden on one of those." He had already sat there and had two helmets in his hands.

"I left it in the garage and didn’t want to make you wait here for too long. But you don’t have to worry; I know what I'm doing, and I won't let you get hurt. I promise." You came closer to him and let him put a helmet on you. You really tried not to tremble as his hands gently fixed it under your chin. "Now sit behind me and put your legs here." He pointed at the weird looking thing.

"Hold on tight, Darlin'." You heard another deep chuckle, and he finally put his helmet on.

He’s just being nice, stop overthinking this.

But you knew this type of guy—always charming and flirting—who could have pretty much anyone. It was stupid of you to think that he saw you as something more than just Steve’s little sister.

"See, I told you that I was a good driver and that you'd get home safely." He hopped off the motorcycle and stood before you while you were trying to take the helmet off. "Let me unlock it."

"We– we’re not really close. I’m probably not even his type." You shrugged. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he buried his hands in the jeans pockets, as if he was angry and tried not to show you.

"You."

You both were silent.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What were you thinking?

"Say it again." Your throat felt dry, and you just stared at him, not knowing what to do.

"I– Just forget about it, Bucky. It’s stupid–"

"And I didn’t know that you liked me either. "I thought that you felt obligated to take care of me because I'm your best friend’s sister."

"No, I promise you." He kissed the top of your head. "But Steve’s gonna kill me, by the way. He told all of us that you’re not an option and that we can’t touch you."

"Well, I love him, but he can’t decide for me."

"So… Does this mean that you’ll say ‘yes’ if I ask you to go on a date with me? On Sunday, maybe?" You lifted your head to look at him properly, and God, he was so cute when he was nervous.

"Of course, Buck, I wanna go out with you." You smiled at him, and he lowered himself again to give you another sweet kiss on the lips.

"Fuck, you should go home, doll." You’re too sweet for your own good. Wanna save you all for myself." He mumbled against your lips. "Go."

"Goodnight, Bucky. Please text me when you get home, ‘kay?"

"I will. Night, Doll." You left a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek before finally turning around to go home.

Maybe a date with John wasn’t that bad of an idea.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x y/n

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mixtape-racha · 1 year ago

Text

it's a scream, baby! | hyunlix

chapter seven: subtlety, you should look it up

words: 2.40k // warnings: graphic character deaths

OFFICIAL GHOSTFACE KILL COUNT: 003

beep beep. beep beep. beep beep.

blearily opening his eyes, chan quickly silenced the early morning alarm on his phone. whoever decided football practice had to be at the ass-crack of dawn had some explaining to do, because there was no need for this. especially on a fucking monday.

and did they really need to keep on the daily morning practices? the season was over, and there weren't even any friendly games until the fall semester. it was so stupid.

but still, he persisted. routine was something that chan really thrived on, and he wasn’t about to change that now. he’d get up, have a pre-workout shake, go to practice, meet changbin at the gym, come home and shower, then get ready for his day. which is exactly why he opted for all afternoon classes - it allowed him enough time to do what he needed to do in the morning, without feeding too far into the day.

he was glad he pre-prepared his shake the previous night, because it was taking all his effort to not climb back into bed this morning. grabbing his usual, stocked gym bag, he was quick to throw on some sweats and a hoodie before heading down to the football field - which luckily was only 5 minutes away from his dorm room.

as usual, practice sucked. running laps of the field, 1 step run ups, dribbling and passing drills. why did they need to go over this so much? they were the best team in the state, this was kiddy shit to them. by the time they had finished - the coach had overrun the scheduled time, as usual - he only had about 10 minutes to get to the other side of campus to meet changbin at the gym.

why he also agreed to gym sessions three times a week with their local gym rat was beyond him. like, he did enjoy it, of course. the dopamine release was definitely needed, and he loved staying healthy and taking care of himself. but maybe jeongin was right… maybe he did overwork himself beyond repair. he was only 23, so he should give himself a break sometime. maybe over summer, while all his friends were traveling the globe, he’d check himself into a spa retreat. just chill for a while.

miraculously, he managed to reach the gym just as changbin was pulling up in the car park, and he rushed over to meet his friend. changbin had bought felix and jisung today, the pair wanting to get into working out and knowing changbin - along with his gym buddy in chan - was the best person to come to.

the four spent a good hour and a half working out, mainly focusing on chest and back as chan had already had enough leg workouts for the day. it was nice having a fresh pair of eyes to critique his posture, and he thoroughly enjoyed spotting for someone else other than changbin. the shorter man was too stubborn, and too much of a perfectionist in the gym for chan’s liking.

when they finally left, chan politely declined changbin’s offer of a ride back to the dorm - he and jisung were headed out instead of home so chan didn’t see the need for them to go out of their way. anyway, he liked his quiet walks through campus. he had a good few hours until his first class, so he could take as long as he wanted to complete the 5 minute walk back to his apartment.

shoving his headphones in, he began blaring music and swiped up his notes app to sort out some form of to-do list for himself. chan thrived on routine and to-do lists, the satisfaction of crossing a task off overwhelming great to him. realistically, all he needed to do was shower and organize his bookbag, but he figured he may as well do some housework and laundry as he had extra time. he hoped his roommates would appreciate it.

when he eventually got home (he wasn’t sure how he managed to triple the length of his walk), he kicked his shoes off and got to work on cleaning the apartment. there was no point showering before he cleaned if he’d just get tired and sweaty again.

honestly, he enjoyed cleaning. he was an avid believer of ‘clear space, clear mind’, and being a music production major meant he was working at home on new songs a lot. also, having his friends stay over for a few days meant more cleaning than usual. he loved his friends - his small, chosen family - he really did. but refreshing his home and spring cleaning after they’d left brought him as much joy as having them around did.

after spending a hour blasting his monthly playlist and cleaning, he headed to his room to shower. he left his phone on charge next to his bed, on loud in case anyone needed to contact him, and reveled in the way the hot water loosened the ache in his muscles.

honestly, it took everything in him not to climb back into bed after his shower - curl up under his blankets, stick on a dumb movie and eat the leftover pizza in the fridge. the outside world was just too much at the moment, and it was when he was alone - times like these - where he was glad to have a moment to himself and regroup his thoughts.

in fact, fuck it, he thought. why not take a day to himself? he was sure the faculty and staff would understand, given the state of woodsboro at the current time. what was stopping him? so, he pulled out his laptop and emailed all his professors for the day, saying he was taking a respite day. he really cared about his academic performance, and taking such a rest day to reset would allow him to regroup and provide his best work later in the week.

it felt safe, in his cocoon of blankets and throw pillows. it felt like home. literally nothing could make it better. just him, and the silence of his apartment to lull him into a deep sleep that he so desperately needed. surely, just an hours nap would be okay? surely, nothing bad could happen, right?

…………………………

chan awoke with a start at the sound of his phone going off. fuck… it was gettin dark out, how long had he been asleep? what the fuck was the time? shit…. he was going to be late to meet jeongin. they had plans tonight - obviously, ending up back at jeongin’s dorm in his bed - but plans nonetheless.

regardless of their status as temporary lovers, chan felt awful for leaving his friend waiting. he had to call jeongin and get to their spot as quick as he could.

he stumbled around his room, pulling on the first outfit he found and quickly spraying some deodorant and body spray. his phone was still on his desk, on loud-speaker as he attempted to call the younger boy for the third time in a row. why was it going straight to voicemail? was jeongin that mad at him? for fuck’s sake, why was everything going wrong lately?

it was only when his phone dinged, indicating that he had received a text, that chan stopped and actually paid attention to his surroundings. he rushed over to his phone, clicking on the notification like it was his last lifeline.

hey chris <3 it’s jeongin, my phone died :( headed to our spot now, see you there!

a sigh of relief left chan’s lips. jeongin wasn’t mad, thank fuck. he finished his classes around this time (depending if they overran), so using a classmates phone to text him wasn’t out of the ordinary. at least he hadn’t fucked up majorly, he could make it there in time and make things right.

shoving his phone, keys and wallet in his pocket, he rushed to get his shoes on and out the door. he was a man of morals - if he made an obligation, you knew damn well he was going to go through with it. and it wasn’t a far walk to the wooded area they met at, just a couple of minutes past the back of the football field.

he hoped he��d make it there before jeongin, his usual slow walk turning into an almost jog with his nerves of things going wrong again. he couldn’t deny he was kind of a pessimist about these things, but given the state of the town at the moment he felt he was rightly anxious about anything and everything.

surprisingly, he managed to get there in a record 4 minutes, carefully treading over fallen branches and sticky piles of leaves to the picnic bench that was hidden behind all the forestation.

he sat for a few minutes, enjoying the sounds of the birds and nature around him, before he pulled out his phone to play a few games. jeongin would be there soon, he knew it. after a while his phone got boring, so he placed it on the bench and found himself slumped against the seat in his impatient waiting game.

when his phone beeped again, he’d never picked it up quicker. maybe jeongin had gone back to his dorm to charge his phone for a minute, and this was him letting chan know. maybe he had to cancel?

he pulled the notification up, his blood running cold as he read the message.

oh poor, sweet christopher. you really are gullible, you know that? sorry you can’t say goodbye to your boy toy - 👻

was this how (y/n) felt when she received her anonymous text? was he going to be the next victim? not if he had a say about it. with his phone gripped in his palm, he took off running back towards the football field, nothing on his brain except getting back to his dorm safely.

he truly thought he might make it too, the lights of the campus in the distance giving his warm heart some hope, until…

until.

a bang rang out behind him, and before he could even contemplate what it may be, he felt a burning pain in his calf. it was agonizing, and he couldn’t stop himself from collapsing onto the floor. looking down, he saw a pool of blood around his leg. fuck, had he been shot?

the pain was unlike anything he’d ever felt, tears brimming in his eyes as he tried to force himself up and keep going. this couldn’t be how he went, he had so much left to do with his life. he shakily unlocked his phone, the anonymous messages popping up again before he swiped away to pull up the emergency number.

maybe if he called the police quick enough, he’d get help. he couldn’t hear anyone around him, although he couldn’t bring himself to turn his head to look and check.

but with the blood covered his palms, and the shake of his body, he couldn’t get his phone to cooperate with him. with a groan, he looked around and instantly regretted it.

there were two people covered in cloaks and ghost masks approaching him, one brandishing a shiny kitchen knife, and the other holding the gun he assumed caused the damage to his leg.

fuck. this was it, wasn’t it? chan wasn’t one to give up, but even he knew when giving in would be easier than fighting. maybe if he didn’t give them what they wanted by screaming and running away, they’d show mercy. maybe he could reverse-psychology his way out of it.

was that stupid? maybe, but all he could do was try. he’d try anything at this point.

one of the figures grabbed his injured leg, the force forcing him onto his back as they began dragging him back towards the wooded area. his nails dug into the grass, gripping onto anything to avoid going back those dreaded trees, but also because the pain of the fingers around his wound was too much to bare.

with all the remaining strength he wasn’t using to refrain from passing out, he kicked his other leg out, successfully landing a strong kick to the abdomen of the figure dragging him. ignoring the groan of pain, he forced himself onto his feet and ran as fast as his injured leg would carry him.

clearly, if wasn’t fast enough as before he’d even taken 5 steps, the other figure grabbed him by his hair, the strain on his scalp causing him to yelp as his head flew back. his legs gave way underneath him, the grip on his hair tightening as if to keep him up.

he heard the blade of the knife whip through the summer air before he felt it slash the skin across his back, gritting his teeth in a refusal to show the attackers the pain they were inflicting.

he allowed them to continue their assault, given he didn’t have much of a choice, the blade penetrating his skin more times than he could count, the butt of the pistol being used to spread bruises and cuts across his face. his vision was getting blurry, the pain becoming a big ball of fire spread across his body, and he sobbed. what did he do to deserve this?

he was kind of relieved when they pulled away, part of him deep down hoping someone had seen the attack and was coming to help, but it never came. instead, he heard a call of his name across the field, before another gunshot ran out.

he put all his energy into tilting his head, sick pooling in his mouth as he looked just in time to see jeongin - his jeongin - collapse to the floor. the fuckers had shot him. this would kill his friends, losing both of them in one night.

the pain was overwhelming, and he couldn’t look anymore. his eyes squeezed shut, and another sob wracked his body. this really was it, wasn’t it? no goodbyes, no mercy, just him dead in this field after being murdered in cold blood.

a boot pushed his head into the ground as he heard a deep chuckle - unnervingly familiar - before he felt the barrel of the gun pressed against his neck. he took a deep breath preparing himself for the nothingness he’d fall into, before a third and final gunshot rung out across the empty field.

taglist: join taglist here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @queen-klarissa @queenfelix @taeriffic @mits-vi @myeg1993 @lemontead @peachessandhoney @chanssmiles @changbinisabigboy @5kayzee @skz-streamer @iweirdthingsblog @sinforsuccubus @bunniie0325 @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @moondustmemories @4evrglow

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jflemings · 10 months ago

Note

Prompt 82 w Cortnee vine xx

— cruel summer

prompt: 82 “i’m fine” from this post

a/n: i hope this is okay 🙃 it’s not my best but i gave it a go

“are you sure?” she asks worriedly

you look at her with annoyance before your face softens. her eyes are showing you nothing but genuine concern “yes, cort, i’m fine” you reassure for the fifth time that morning.

she hums and turns her back to you so she can continue to fold her laundry whilst you sit on her couch flicking through different streaming apps trying to find something to watch. the truth was that you weren’t fine. you were starting to regret coming over but you didn’t have the guts to get up and leave yet.

you didn’t think that sneaking around behind your teammate’s back was going to be that difficult, but you had been proven wrong when the girls came back home for christmas. a few of you had gone out for breakfast and caitlin, who really didn’t know any better, had not so subtly pointed out the hickey on cort’s neck. cortnee had flushed red and stammered through an explanation, claiming that it was from no one important and that it was just a one time thing.

your heart had sunk and from that moment on you kept relatively quiet, even on the drive back to cortnee’s. you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it because the two of you agreed that it was better to keep it from the team for now.

your mind was starting to change about that decision.

you give up on trying to find something to watch, putting the remote down and standing up just as you gain your nerve. you grab your purse off the coffee table and sigh “i’m gonna go” you say, trying to be as confident as you can.

she looks over her shoulder at you with a quirked brow before shrugging “okay. text me later?” she asks, returning back to her laundry that was apparently more interesting than you.

you hummed and swiftly made your way out of her apartment, letting out a heavy breath when you hear the door click close. you begin to walk down the hallway to the elevator thinking over your relationship. cortnee had been worried about all the media attention after the world cup, but your teammates weren’t the media. they were your family, and you told some of those girls almost everything about you and your life.

as the elevator rings and you walk through the foyer of the building you can’t help but feel defeat. you didn’t want to keep secrets just to keep her and you knew how you felt; it wasn’t fair to you to continue to do this. you understood at first but now it seemed pointless to you. people were assuming things anyway, and after caitlin’s comment you knew that at least half the team would be aware about it by the end of the week.

the australian december sun beams down on you as you get to your car, making you flinch back when you touch the door handle. you open the door and stand there momentarily preparing for burn you’re about to feel from the scorching leather seat, groaning when you realise that the pool at your building was closed for repairs this week.

you throw your head back and slide i to the driver’s seat as best you can, not noticing the notifications you get from your phone until you plug it into the aux.

cortnee 🤍

we should tell the team

if u want

but i want to

a wide smile overtakes your face as you press play on your summertime playlist and throw your phone in the cup holder before driving off, singing along to whatever songs come and go. it’s definitely the best you’ve felt all week, especially after this morning, and you can’t wait until you can finally, and proudly, call cortnee yours.

#pegs writes #pegs woso #pegs tillies #woso imagine #woso blurb #woso fic #woso x reader #cortnee vine #cortnee vine x reader #cortnee vine fic #cortnee vine imagine #cortnee vine blurb

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

WIBTA if I gave my sister's concert ticket to her ex boyfriend and make her pay for it? NSFW warning

I (24 cis female) and my younger sister (19 cis female) have tickets for a concert we both really like. Sister and i have been saving up for a while as tickets are a little pricey where we live. I bought the tickets in my name but my sister paid half for hers. we have two cars in the family. One for my dad (50s cis male) and one for us for college. Last weekend my sister asked if she could borrow my car for a few days as she was going to be in the next city over for a party with her friends and boyfriend. I said sure because I knew I would be at home all weekend. i got a call on sunday morning from my sister's boyfriend (21 cis male) saying that I needed to come and pick her up because he was done with her. apparently over that weekend not only had she driven the car off of the road and had just left it there (nobody was injured, thank god) but had also hooked up with her boyfriend's best friend (20 cis male). Dad and i went to pick her up and she looked so proud of herself. When i asked her about what she had done she just said "well you did worse than me at this age. i should be able to have some fun. it's not like i completely wrecked the car." like zero fucking remorse whatsoever. getting the car towed and checked out cost more than i would like to admit. we're without a car for a good few weeks. my sister refused to even pay for some of the repairs because "it's not technically my car., you bought it." she had been blasting her ex on social media too, making memes and tiktoks poking fun at him. I told her if that wa.s the attitude she wanted to have, then the concert ticket "wasn't technically hers either" because i bought the tickets. i reached out to her boyfriend to check on him as we had been close before this and he was not doing well. I asked him if he wanted to come to the concert with me to try and cheer him up and take his mind off of things bc I know he was a fan too. he sounded really excited and told me he'd get back to me. well my sister found out that I was going to give her ticket to her ex and she lost her shit. she started screaming and crying that i was her sister and i should take her side and support her no matter what. she told me she never judged me when i contracted an STI last year and never went to my boyfriend telling him about it or offering him support. I told her she was being a bitch and she needs to grow up, and that she can reimburse me for the full ticket if she is that bothered about it. I sent a cashapp request for the full price of the ticket multiple times but she has since blocked me on the app and is refusing to talk to me. WIBTA if i do give him the ticket?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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shadowkat678 · 1 year ago

Text

EMERGENCY POST!

Hey guys. I’ve been trying to keep people informed with what’s going on. Instead of doing it over with each group I'm going to make an announcement. Full saga. All the information.

The 2002 Honda Civic Absolute Disaster.

Yesterday, my car decided to overheat and shit itself. In the middle of my 700 mile move to Detroit with my gf and an hour away from our planned hotel stop. I don't know much about cars! Apparently I should have stopped when I saw the engine meter staying over the H line on the thermostat.

I did not, because I didn't want to break down on the side of the road. Instead we broke down very conveniently in the lot of an AutoZone type car shop. What might have been a small issue to fix, however, is now fucking huge.

My car won't start. My engine is likely totaled. There's probably an issue with the thermostat or water pump or radiator one, then the head gasket got cracked so water is leaking into the car's surrounding pipes, to the best of what I could gather. I am not a car person.

We've called around, no one nearby has any openings for repairs for at least a week. The closest place is 60 miles away. AAA won't cover towing that far, and would charge me $7+tax for every mile. We managed to find someone else who'd take it for $250, luckily.

He thought he might be able to fix the car by Saturday, but all together the cost would be $2.8k ish. Including the tow.

That's not including the money I already had to pay for the last few mechanic visits that we thought fixed everything over the past few months. Which was already way too much. So now that's all down the drain too.

There's now another devolvement about that as seen in the texts. Basically, the type of engine was different than believed. Making it a lot more expensive and time extensive to fix. We have neither money or time for that. So, stuck in the middle of Kentucky countryside, we're having to get rid of our car.

After conversation with family and friends and advice we're going to focus on getting to Detroit and trying to get a car there. I still have to make another trip back in a few months to get the rest of my stuff and the overheating has done so much damage we probably will have to pay even more than just what's already been discussed wrong with it anyway. Luckily we'll be able to sell it to the mechanic for about....$300.

To put this into perspective on how bad that is for me, I currently only make about $1,200 a month.

We have a way out and up to Detroit, thankfully. But even without the car costs of fixing it we're going to be out a three nights in the hotel plus the towing, which is about $600 all totalled and we still need to get transportation once in Detroit. Not to mention rent and groceries and other moving things. We also still have like. Zero furniture at the apartment.

I'll keep everyone updated as things continue. It was suggested I make a donation post with all the information. So here's my Google pay, PayPal, Cash app, and Venmo.

We've gotten some help so far from my family and some friends but anything would be amazing to put towards a car and necessities fund. I'm going to have absolutely no transportation at a time where getting places is going to be super important. So I'm putting it out there.

#emergency #signal boost #donation post

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muffimtv · 8 months ago

Note

this even though you dont write rn

🥑🥤💌🌻🧃🍄🪐📚🍬🦷❄️🥐🏜️<- (general art creation) 🦋🐚🐝🌸🎨🧩

YOU ARE INSANE

🥑 - you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

@fuzziecorpse @bathtubswooo and @h3xrts4-me

🥤- recommend an author or fanfic you love

sing, sweet cicada on ao3! my partner and i loved it so much that i bound a copy for him!

�� - how many unread emails do you have right now?

22!

🌻 - tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

@crikey01 your tag games are so silly i love them

🧃- share some personal lore you never posted about before

ooh fun question!! whenever it rains i try to go lay out on the roof of my car, it’s very fun :3

🍄 - share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

its so hard for me to pick just one pairing BUT currently jmart is on my mind so! i think martin likes having little streaks of color in his hair and jon likes to dye his grey streaks to match

🪐- name three good things going on in your life right now

i got my brother into one of my favorite shows, i’m working on a fursuit, and prom is next week!

📚- what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

a fic idea i had at literally 2am yesterday

🍬 - post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

genuinely i cannot think of oen LMAO

🦷 - share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

learn to sew!! it’ll have you a lot of money on things like hemming pants/dresses, repairing clothing, and making them too

❄️ - what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

i’m always a sucker for coffee shop aus man…..

🥐 - name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

my brother and i always use “empty the compartments of your pantaloons” and one of us will respond “FOR WHAT PURPOSE???” and it always makes me giggle

🏜️- what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

those ones that are like “SCREMAING CRYING SOBBING THROWING UP EATING MY WALLS”

🦋 - share something that has been on your heart and mind lately

JMART 🔥🔥🔥

🐚 - do you like or dislike surprises?

i like them usually!

🐝 - tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@fuzziecorpse hiii i love you <3

@notroadkills u are so funny king

@crikey01 YOUR ART IS SO GOOD LET ME EAT IT

🌸 - do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

my baby bunny easter (she is actually terribly old)

woe, baby be upon ye

🎨 - link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

this martin art. specifically the second one 😭😭 that little image was ALL that was on my mind when i was in my ACT today

🧩 - what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

NO PARAGRAPH BREAKS OR PUNCTUATION

PLEASEEEE I DONT WANT TO READ A BLOCK OF TEXT MY EYES ARENT MADE TO HANDLE IT

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dr-lizortecho · 1 year ago

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I was tagged by the lovely @nyctophilic0vitnir in this “get to know me” tag game!

Name: you know or you don’t know <3

Sign: Scorpio (to the disdain or approval of all zodiac people ik)

Time: Eastern Time

Favorite band/artist: Lukas Graham probably, but really at the end of the day I don’t listen to more than 50% of any one artist’s discography except his (and maybe Maren Morris’s)

Last movie: Legally Blonde

Last show: just watched a few episodes of Abbott Elementary

When I created this blog: 2014-15 ish??? To communicate with a beta reader for a… SuperWhoLock fic *sighs* but alas I deleted the app and reinstalled it two-three years ago?? How long has it even been???

Other blogs: outside of event blogs @jeaninemasonsource @kaliz-rnm

Do I get asks: a fair share imo (usually for asks lists, prompts, requests and the like)

Followers: an amount (probably flooded with bots cause I’m not the best at whack a mole)

Average hours of sleep: actual uninterrupted sleep??? 2-3 hrs, but I lay down without my phone and the lights for 7-8

Instruments: I once could play ‘old McDonald’ on the piano via key memorization- so none

What I'm wearing: leggings and an oversized t-shirt

Dream job: educating the general public on dogs/dog-interaction/dog-breeds (and the history behind breed discrimination)

Dream trip: literally have been planning to Road Trip out to New Mexico and California for like 2-3 years now (but everytime I manage to get my savings up something big happens- like my car needing 2k worth of repairs) but with my new job next Spring looks super super promising!

Favorite song atm: One Foot by Walk the Moon

I’m too tired to tag anyone specific- but if you want to share consider yourself tagged by me <3

#tagged in #thanks for the tag!

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pcttrailsidereader · 9 months ago

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Just a Little Bit

As the seasons begin to change and thoughts of getting outside start to bubble up into our hopes, dreams, and memories it seems appropriate to consider options. Generally when the topic of the Pacific Crest Trail comes up in conversation or reading, or in film it is framed around thru hiking. Beginning to end, start to finish. "Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!" or something like that. Thru hikes are stories mostly full of success. Participants overcome adversity and find their way forward. Thru hikes get the glory it seems.

A short snowy early fall day hike on the PCT with a friend.

To day hike on the PCT is easier for some than others mostly given where you live. Living in Kansas for example, you are not going to call your friends up and say, "Hey, how about we day hike from Rainy Pass to Cutthroat Pass this weekend?" or " Let's meet at Kennedy Meadows and do a day hike...what do you say?" The day hike option in the immediate sense is challenging for a lot of us. Less so when people have some time but not a lot of time to do a more challenging or ambitious undertaking like in the summer months.

I met a fellow once who was driving to PCT trailheads on the weekends and day hiking out and back to his car. He didn't have the luxury to take extended time off of work and other responsibilities so this worked for him. To be honest the PCT is not exactly easy to move from trail head to trail head everywhere. He happened to live where it was more possible.

In my case I can easily consider various day hikes on the PCT from where I live. They might be longish days or require sleeping in my vehicle or a nearby accommodation but still doable. If you are dreaming of a PCT experience here is your opportunity to get a taste.

Jack Haskel at the PCTA wrote a really honest and informative essay in the organizations magazine 'The Communicator' last spring. He writes," The decision around what to pack for a day hike also became easier when I stopped overthinking it. I embraced the 10 essentials, added a couple of extras, and now all the necessary items live in my day pack permanently." Here's the list:

Navigation- paper maps and/or phone app maps

Headlamp-sometimes the best laid plans just take longer than your think.

Sun protection

First aid- maybe not for you but for someone else...

Knife plus gear repair kit

Fire (matches, lighter, tinder and/or stove)

Shelter (ultralight mylar emergency shelter that fits two people)

Extra food

Extra water

Extra clothes

In addition tell someone where you are going and when you plan to get back. This is critically important for staying safe. Jack also carries a knife, compass, energy bar, and some spare batteries. His view, and I agree, better to be safe than sorry.

If you don't have the time, energy, desire, opportunity, or some other good reason for a lengthy PCT hike consider a day hike. Just walking a short distance with friends on the PCT has been rewarding for them as much as it has been for me. They got a taste of what my experience was and it sprouted some great conversations and experiences of their own. These experiences bring up so many memories flooding my brain from past hikes when I have done this.

#Day hikes PCT #Ten essentials #Jack Haskel #safety #Accessing the PCT

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nutteu · 1 year ago

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tomorrow is the fleeting smile on your bleeding lips [Chapter I]

[AO3 Chapter I] [AO3 Chapter II] [AO3 Chapter III] [moonsea series]

Steven’s mechanic was unfairly, unfathomably, absolutely, devastatingly hot. He was going to die from a severe case of embarrassment before the car was even fixed, if the mechanic didn’t stop grinning at him as if he wanted to devour Steven whole. [Jake/Steven; au; published 2022-06-29; total word count: 24,806]

Marc was going to chewed his ears off—no, he was going to kill Steven if he found out. His brother might be babying him to a fault, but this was the fourth time this month that Steven barreled into a problem with the car, which Marc owned, and bought after saving up for so long, and which he loved so much, and which he only lent to Steven because he was paranoid as fuck and thought that Steven would fall asleep in the bus, or get mugged, or worse, get harassed.

See, Steven was more than happy to drive the car around. It cut down the time he usually spent waiting for the bus, and he didn’t need to worry about his bus leaving before he could get on it. Also, he could bring a lot of things, and it was faster altogether—a more practical experience. But the catch was, Steven didn’t know shit about cars. Ask him about the complete history of Trojan War and he’d answer in less than a heartbeat. Ask him about how to change a tire, and he’d just stay silent until he inevitably squirmed in discomfort.

He just didn’t know, okay?

Which was probably not the best thing to say to Marc. Especially now that his brother was away in Cairo for a few weeks. Also, not the best thing to inform that the car just suddenly broke down and wouldn’t start, and Steven was slowly panicking. He had taken the car to repair shops, but they evidently didn’t do a good enough job if it was still not working right. He couldn’t tell the difference, honestly. He just knew that there was nothing he could do but to resign another portion of his paycheck to fix the car, more than usual this time because it never broke down like this before.

He sighed, and pulled out his phone. It was brand new, and he didn’t quite understand how to use it yet. Marc insisted that he had it, because he complained that Steven’s voice sounded so shitty when he used his Neanderthal era phone, which was a big insult, because that phone served him for years just fine. But his brother was hardheaded, and Steven was so used to accepting everything Marc had given to him, to follow where his brother went.

It was definitely useful now, even if he fumbled a bit with it. He looked up the nearest auto repair shop, and called the number. A gruff voice answered his call, and he stuttered a bit before he relayed the condition. The person, a man named Khonshu—which was hilarious as fuck because the last Steven checked, it was the Egyptian god of moon—sounded so displeased. He understood; it was night, and the shop must have been closing soon. But he was a bit desperate, and still very much panicking. In the end, Khonshu told him to wait on his location, said someone would pick him up.

He let out a relieved sigh as soon as the call ended. Khonshu was not pleasant to talk to. He bit his lip, and stretched a bit on the driver seat. He supposed he should just go out, since the AC was dead, and he could miss the person picking him up if he spent his time holing up inside. So, he stepped out, and waited on the side of the road; walking around, and swinging on the tip of his toes. He should have brought a book. He usually did, but he forgot this morning because he was in a hurry; he was almost late for a tour from a uni. He could just read on the phone, like Marc had taught him, but it hurt his eyes, and he didn’t understand how to control the functions of the app.

Waiting like an idiot it was.

He watched cars and bike pass by, smiling awkwardly at passersby stealing glances at him. He was a bit wary when people walked closer, or when they stared at him for too long. He was sure he looked neat enough today, he had wanted to impress the entourage after all. But, perhaps, it was his hair? He surreptitiously looked at the tinted window to check if his curls were in place. They were a bit messy, but acceptable nonetheless. Was it his clothes? Nah, no way, this shirt looked cool, for his taste anyway, and he didn’t button it wrong. Was it because he looked painfully, obviously uncomfortable and restless? Yeah, maybe; he felt that way, definitely.

He tried his best to ignore them, thinking back to Marc’s tireless lecture of stranger danger. Honestly, Steven was thirty-six, and though he was a complete garbage at having good sleeping schedule, he thought that he managed his life pretty good. Marc was just overprotective. But the clock was ticking by, and the road was slowly deserted, and Steven couldn’t help but press his back closer to the side of his car. There was a man who had been standing against the wall of a nearby building, and Steven caught him staring several times. He didn’t try to approach, but yeah, Marc was right. Stranger danger.

Just when he was about to call Khonshu again, be damned with him grumbling in his ears, just to make sure that he was indeed getting picked up, a car parked in front of his, and the driver climbed out. Steven paused for a moment. It might be someone who lived here, but then the man walked towards him, and he had to rub at his eyes for a moment.

The man, whom Steven was now sure the person that Khonshu had sent because he was still wearing a mechanic jumpsuit, looked exactly like him and his brother. There were a few key differences, like the deceptively relaxed set of his brows and shoulders, the hooded stare, the perpetual smirk on his lips, the gait in his steps. But aside from that, he could pass as their brother. Steven was pretty sure that he and Marc were born as twins, not triplet. But here the man was, stopping to stand in front of Steven, with his smirk and the stench of tobacco clinging to him. It was like seeing Marc, just more relaxed and devious, and Steven almost thought that, perhaps, for some magical reason, Marc had sensed that his baby brother was in trouble, again, and flew over from Cairo to save his pathetic ass.

“Steven Grant?” he asked, and Steven swallowed. His voice was rough around the edges, husky and low. There was a noticeable accent in his syllables, and it only made him all the more—what was the word? Steven didn’t want to say seductive; he didn’t think he could handle the mortification of his own thought. Yeah, nope, this one was definitely not Marc.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered out, aware that he was staring like a creep. “You’re from the Iah Auto Repair Shop?”

“Jake Lockley,” the man introduced himself, and nodded. “Khonshu sent me, said something about your car breaking down.”

He smiled in dismay, and gestured to the poor, abused thing. “Yeah,” he said. “Brought it to the repair shops before this, but either they didn’t fix it properly, or I’m just a disaster with a car. I’m leaning more towards the latter.”

The man’s smirk widened a fraction, almost a grin. There was mirth in his eyes as he placed a warm palm on Steven’s shoulders. He didn’t want to admit that he was holding back a gasp. He could feel the warmth of Jake’s hand through the shirt, and he was suddenly torn between feeling grateful that he left the jacket inside the car, or panicking all over again because even a small contact could make him so flustered.

He couldn’t quite hide the flush on his cheeks when Jake leaned forward. He was about to push the man away—Marc’s training was rigorous and it had been ingrained into Steven’s head—but then Jake said, “I’ll handle the towing, and you get inside my car. That gentleman over there hasn’t moved an inch, and you’ve been fidgeting quite a lot. Let’s not find out what he wants to do to you, yeah?”

He found it hard to voice out an answer, so he just nodded his head, cheeks aflame because Jake’s warm breath hit his skin when he spoke, from how close they were. He followed behind the man as they walked to the side of his car. He opened the door for Steven, throwing him a last grin before he closed the door behind. Steven let out the breath he had been holding.

That was the most intense, well-intentioned warning he had gotten in his life. He unconsciously lifted his hand to his shoulders, where Jake had touched him. It was still a little bit warm. He scrunched his nose and quickly put his hand down. What the hell was he doing? It was just a friendly gesture, for fuck’s sake. No need to be so self-conscious about it. Or bothered. Or- or wanting it to happen again.

Jesus fuck he was going insane.

He decided to ignore his embarrassment, and looked up. The man who had been watching him was scowling at something, and Steven turned around slightly to see that Jake was throwing a grin at him. The grin was different than the one he gave to Steven. This one made him shiver and curl a little in his seat. Jake, for all that he looked like a hot, unruly man, now seemed so dangerous.

The man then pushed off of the wall, and started to walk away. Steven stared. It truly was fortunate that Jake arrived just in time. He glanced at Jake again, but the man was already gone, presumably inside Steven’s car to set the gear to neutral. He looked up ahead again, and fiddled with his fingers. He really should have brought a book.

It took Jake some time before he opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. “All done, Stevie,” he said, the name rolling on his tongue like a tease. “Put on your seatbelt.”

“It’s Steven,” he corrected as he clicked the belt in place. “With a ‘v’.”

“Not so catchy,” Jake replied easily. “Stevie is better, don’t you think?”

“Nope, don’t think so. I like my name as it is,” he said, leaning against the seat as the car was started. It purred instead of rumbling, like Marc’s car. Which was all Steven’s fault in the first place. He promised himself he’d treat Marc once his brother was back. If he didn’t plan on telling what was the reason other than welcoming Marc back, then, well, what was a little white lie, right?

“I can suggest a lot more interesting names,” Jake said without looking away from the road. They turned left on the junction, before he continued. “How does sweetheart sound?”

Steven honest to God choked on his spit. He stuttered out an intelligible reply, but Jake was laughing already. He glanced at Steven, the same smirk on his lips. There was a glint in his eyes that Steven didn’t dare to look at for too long, in fear that he’d do something stupid. Like saying that he didn’t mind Jake calling him sweetheart. My God, it was less then an hour and he was already being so needy.

“You’re so easy,” Jake said, looking at the road again.

“Uh, I’m sorry?” he said, not sure how to respond to that. He should have been annoyed, he supposed. But Jake said it so softly that all Steven’s heart did was beat faster than it should.

Jake’s lips quirked a bit, but he didn’t say anything. Steven wanted to ask what exactly that grin meant, but then again, he was too busy trying to breathe right. Maybe phoning this particular repair shop wasn’t the best decision he’d taken today. Not because he met Jake, but because of how much he was turning into a desperate man in the presence of this cheeky mechanic.

Could this be considered as narcissism? They looked unnervingly similar to each other. And yet, they couldn’t be more different. Sure, Marc had called him a cheeky little shit on at least a thousand different occasions, but it wasn’t the point. They had no similarities between except for their appearance, and even that stopped at several points. Steven didn’t think that he could ever dream of being as suave as Jake.

He tried to surreptitiously glance at Jake, and found that the man was looking straight ahead. He noted that Jake’s nose was taller than his, and with his face set on a neutral expression, he looked like Marc—which, way to go really, bringing his own brother into his. Really killed the mood. Even if Steven didn’t know what mood, exactly, he was talking about.

“If you want to stare at me, all you have to do is ask, little dove,” Jake said suddenly, and let out an amused huff when Steven squeaked.

“Sorry, mate, didn’t mean to be rude,” he said, scratching his neck. “You just look a lot like me and my brother.”

“You have a brother?” Jake asked, an eyebrow raised, eyes still focused on the road.

“Yeah, a twin, older than me, just by twelve minutes, honestly; probably won’t let me go out of the house if he has any say to it,” he said, pursing his lips a little. Sure, Marc was thoroughly traumatized that he let his guard down one second and Steven almost drowned. Or that one time Steven almost got kidnapped. Or that one time he fell off of his friend’s bike. Or that one time Steven sleep-walked to the streets. Or—yeah, he got the idea: Marc was worried because his little brother seemed to be a huge magnet for troubles and disasters. Which, probably, explained why fate decided that he was to meet Jake Lockley. If Steven had to describe that man with a word, trouble was definitely the first thing that came to mind.

But he couldn’t look away, and he was aware that his cheeks was still heated. Oh, God, he was doomed and Marc was going to be so, so disappointed at him.

“Your brother has a complex,” Jake told him bluntly.

Steven laughed a little. “He does, doesn’t he?” he said with a slight shake of his head. “Not without reason, though. I’m a walking disaster.”

“A cute walking disaster, at least,” came the reply, and Steven was speechless for God knew how many times tonight. He was afraid that it wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

He bit his lip and looked down, suddenly hyper aware of how he must have looked like a garbage next to Jake’s confidence. He unconsciously tried to fix the curls falling into his eyes, hoping that Jake wouldn’t notice, would only see it as a nervous gesture.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the car halted in front of the repair shop. Jake unlocked the car, and went ahead to take care of Steven’s car. He went out, too, and saw that some people were still there. They got his car inside the large space of the garage, and started to prepare their tools. Steven watched him, fascinated. They worked so quickly and efficiently, almost without a thought in their practiced movements. He saw that Jake was talking to another mechanic, and an unbelievably tall man dressed in white, face adorned with neatly trimmed mustache and beard. There was a scowl on the man’s face, but he was listening intently nonetheless. This must have been Khonshu.

Steven waited near Jake’s car, unsure what to do. He fiddled with his sleeves, and suddenly longed for his jacket just to have something to touch. He liked the texture of the seams, the feel of worn fabric under his fingertips. There was just something soothing in tracing the neat line of the threads, as if his fingers were running above the cables of the utility pole; long, smooth lines that seemed to follow when he passed them by.

Jake went back to him after some time. He pointed a thumb to the car, and said, “We gotta make sure what’s broken before we can fix it. Upfront payment after the diagnosis. Can you come here tomorrow?”

“I can,” he nodded. “But I’m going to be a bit late, is that okay? I get off work at six, and I gotta take the bus to go here, and a taxi probably since there’s no route for the bus here.”

“No need,” Jake said. “I can pick you up. Where’s your workplace?”

Steven was stunned for a moment. That offer just came out of nowhere. Well, not that out of nowhere, given the situation. But he was pretty sure that mechanics didn’t just offer to pick up their clients off of work just because their car was out of commission. Besides, Jake had just met him, and he honestly didn’t want to impose on the other man. But Steven didn’t want to refuse the offer either. For one, it’d be easier. Also, because he got to be picked up by Jake.

Oh, dear Lord, he was turning into a fifteen-year-old in puberty.

“Uh, Petrie Museum,” he said, unsure for a moment.

“I’ll pick you up at six,” Jake nodded, then shouted something at someone in the garage. It was in a language that Steven didn’t recognize. He just watched as Jake nodded at the answering reply, before he turned back to him. “Do you need a ride home?”

Alright. No matter how much Steven’s heart was kicking, screaming and giggling at Jake’s presence, this was way too fast. Or maybe he was reading into it too much. It was just a harmless, kind offer, and Jake was just being polite. But, God, did he want to.

“If you don’t mind?” he asked, hesitant.

“Wouldn’t offer you otherwise, little dove,” Jake said, again with the pet name. “Come on, I’ve told them I’m clocking off.”

Steven nodded dumbly, following Jake to once again get into the car, not really believing what was happening, couldn’t really wrap his head around it. The car broke down, he was worried sick because he didn’t want to make Marc mad, he was anxiously waiting to get picked up while trying to ignore the stare of that stranger burning on the side of his face, met Jake Lockley, realized that he was fucked and doomed, and now Jake was driving him home and Steven was about to scream out his confusion. That sounded about right.

He fastened the seatbelt as the car was turned on. Jake looked around for incoming vehicles that might pass, before he drove to the main road. “Where are we going, Stevie?”

He ignored the obvious mockery of his name, and rattled off the address. It was forty-minutes’ drive from here, and he didn’t know what to do in the meantime. Here he was, in the same space with the person he had admitted was attractive enough to make him fumble and stutter, and he didn’t know how to appear less like he was a weirdo and more of a respectable customer, whatever that meant.

Jake turned on the tape, and they listened to some music Steven didn’t recognize in low volume. The drive was spent in silence, and Steven was getting antsy. Had he made the wrong decision? Maybe Jake was hoping he’d refuse the offer, but Steven was too dumb to read the clue. He pressed himself closer against the door of the car, mulling in his thoughts.

“You were more talkative before,” Jake then remarked, surprising Steven. “Why, you afraid I’m gonna do something to you?”

“No!” Steven exclaimed, then recoiled when he said it louder than he intended. “No,” he repeated, at reasonable volume this time. “I’m just—not used to being driven by someone else than my brother, I guess. A stranger at that, no less.”

“We won’t be stranger soon, Steven with a ‘v’,” Jake said, the trademark smirk reappearing. “Was that your brother’s car?”

“Yeah,” he said weakly, remembering about his carelessness. “He lent me to it a few months ago because he’s been going on business trips constantly these days. He’s the one who usually drives me around when he’s in town. Which he won’t be, for a few weeks at least.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to tack on the last bit.

“And you broke it,” Jake said.

“Oi, no need to rub the salt on the wound, mate,” Steven huffed out, crossing his arms in front of his chest, face flushing. He was talking to a mechanic, who understood cars’ technicalities more than Steven could ever hope to do. He was embarrassing himself enough.

Jake chuckled lightly. It sounded so pleasant to the ears, for some reason. They were halfway to the apartment building, and Steven started to see familiar shops and streets around the area. The low hum of the tape blended in with the faint bustling of the people and vehicles left on the streets. It was later than the time he usually went home at. He had thought of getting himself some dinner at the restaurant he frequented, because he felt lethargic after two tours with huge groups and didn’t want to cook himself. He supposed it was fortunate enough that the car broke down when it did, he wouldn’t happen to stumble on Iah Repair Shop otherwise. Wouldn’t meet Jake.

And there he went, sounding like a teenager with a gigantic crush again. He met a stranger wearing his face one time, and bam, he was flailing and helpless. This felt like that one time he ate a steak, and then went bonkers and thought that he was hallucinating Gus having two fins, when in reality, Marc had forgotten to feed the poor fish and tried to replace it with a new one. He was mad at Marc for two days, because Gus was his little one-finned wonder, alright.

“Been working at the museum for long, Stevie?” Jake then asked.

Steven looked away from the bright neon lights of a barber shop and shrugged. “Depends on how you see it,” he said. “I worked as the clerk before, selling sweets and souvenirs from the museum. I only got the job as the tour guide recently. About… six months now? It’s been a huge improvement, nonetheless, even if my boss is still an annoying hag.”

Jake grinned. “Mine too.”

“Khonshu?” he asked, then laughed when Jake nodded. “Yeah, a bit of a prick, isn’t he? I thought he was going to strangle me, with how annoyed he sounded like on the phone.”

“We were about to close,” Jake told him. “We usually close at seven, but we close later than usual on Saturday and Sunday.”

“Ah, that explains it, then,” Steven said, nodding along with the explanation. “Sorry for heaping up more troubles on you.”

“It’s good for the business anyway,” Jake said, and turned left at the three-way junction. Steven could already see the apartment building from here. “And I get to drive you home. Not a bad deal for me, be damned with Khonshu.”

Steven chewed at his lower lip, fidgeting slightly. He was trying so hard not to outright blush at the implication of Jake’s words. But it was so hard to fight his natural bodily reaction. He could feel the back of his neck warming up. “Yeah, thanks for offering. The taxi fare would be a nightmare for my bank account.”

They halted in front of the apartment building, and Jake turned to look at him. There was that same glint again in his eyes when he practically purred, “Oh, trust me, the pleasure’s all mine, little dove.”

Good God, what was it with this man? Steven felt all at once like he wanted to ask Jake if he fancied a drink, and to whimper and curl into himself because never in his life that he felt this flustered. In the end he just bit his lip harder, and tried not to fiddle with his fingers again.

A hand reached out towards him, and Steven was still a little dazed to react properly. There was a thumb pulling insistently on his lower lip, so he released it from his teeth. The thumb stayed there, rubbing at the reddened flesh, small indents from how often Steven had bitten his lip in the span of less than two hours alone. It was a bold gesture, and one that he was sure that not everyone would do to a stranger they just met.

A part of him, that sounded annoyingly like Marc, was screaming about stranger danger again, urging him to get the hell out of the car, to push away Jake’s hand because it shouldn’t be there. But a bigger part of him was promptly short-circuiting when Jake continued swiping the thumb on his lip. Steven’s mouth was parted a little, afraid that he’d accidentally lick Jake’s finger if he closed it. He was sure that his whole face was obviously red enough to rival the ketchup that Marc hated so much.

“You’ll bleed if you bite it any harder,” Jake told him, voice soft for once, yet heavy with something Steven couldn’t decipher. His eyes flicked towards Steven’s lips for a moment, his thumb stopping, and the air in the car seemed to be stagnant, as if waiting for something.

Steven, too, felt like he was waiting, though he didn’t know what that was that he waited for. But he stayed there, breath bated in his lungs, clenching the seams of his shirt tight. He watched Jake lick his own lips, and something in him ached at the sight. He wanted—he wanted to—

Jake pulled his hand away, and straightened himself. His usual grin came back as he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Stevie.”

“It’s Steven,” he reminded, voice embarrassingly hoarse. He tried not to bite his lip again, and instead opened the door. He was equal part relieved and frustrated that nothing happened in the end. It was a bit foolish, and forward, to think that Jake would be interested in having anything to do with lame, old Steven. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake.”

He got out of the car with shaky legs, and waved as the car drove away. He was still a bit out of it when he got into the elevator, and pressed the button for his floor. It was only when he was inside his apartment that he realized that he had forgotten to take his bag and jacket from the backseat of his car; his phone, wallet, and apartment key safely tucked inside the pockets of his pants. He hadn’t even realized that, only noticing when he went to deposit his bag at its usual place, and found nothing to put down.

All because of Jake Lockley and his goddamned smirk and pet names.

Yeah, Marc was definitely going to scold him for a thousand years after this.

“Do you think I’m going crazy?” he asked to Gus 2.0 as he fed the fish.

He couldn’t sleep until it was pretty late. He tried to read books, solve the Rubik cube, do some light exercises. But each time he closed his eyes, Jake’s smirk was there, and Steven would wake up faster than he could ever do; skin heated and a whisper of need crawling on his back. It wasn’t that he had never had a fleeting infatuation, or plain physical attraction towards someone else. It was just that it had never been this bad before. Not to mention that Marc wasn’t there to hold him down in sleep, and thus he had to resign himself to chaining his ankle again and pouring sands around the bed.

He pointedly ignored how he tried to sleep with restlessness and a certain need down in his pelvis. He didn’t think he could face Jake if he were to jerk off to the thought of him; of his face, of the danger in the glint of his eyes, of his touch on Steven’s skin, of his smirk, of his low voice calling Steven with all sorts of endearment. Nope, no Siree, not in this household. Definitely.

“Yeah, I think so, too,” he said to the gurgle of bubbles Gus 2.0 let out. He sighed, and pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the tank. It felt pleasant, so he stayed for a moment. “Marc won’t be pleased. But then again, he’s not pleased with anyone I go out with. Weird chap, that guy, really. Good thing I love him.” And good thing that Marc loved him too much to ever strangle Steven for all the troubles he found himself in over the span of their lives.

He went out of the apartment, a bit weirded out that he had to go back to the usual routine of waiting for the bus, standing amongst the crowded of people minding their own business. Fortunately, he didn’t fell asleep on someone’s back like that one time. He couldn’t help it; he was dead at his feet, and Marc hadn’t come home for a week because he had something to do. He carefully didn’t tell his brother about it.

The museum was bustling about today, since it was Sunday. Little kids with their parents, teenagers pointing to artefacts and making funny faces to imitate them; just people walking around the museum, and Steven occasionally greeted them to ask if they needed any assistance, explaining the history whenever someone asked.

He liked his job, had been dreaming of it since he worked in the museum for the first time. There was just something fascinating about recounting the old stories of how a certain outcome in history came to be, in speculating about the factuality of it all, in mulling about the superstitious reasonings of some customs. It was certainly better than selling jellies and plushies at the counter, though he did like the Taweret plushies, had two back at home.

He was distracted enough with work throughout the day, but when it was his time to clock off, he was feeling a bit jittery. He supposed it showed on his face, because he was never as good as Marc in concealing his emotions. J.B even asked him what got his panties so twisted, which Steven reprimanded for his crude language—there were children around them still!—but he kept his mouth shut. He had enough teasing from Jake alone, he didn’t any more to make himself even more anxious.

He didn’t even know what he’s worried about. It was just Jake picking him up from work, so they could go to the repair shop and Steven could reluctantly let go of his money to fix the car. It was pure business, with a dash of kindness. He was just getting worked up for no good reason. Still, he couldn’t help it.

When it was time for him to go out, he was nearly vibrating with restlessness. He waited nervously on the side of the road, eyes roving over the street to spot Jake’s car. He didn’t remember the plate number, but he remembered the shape, the color, and the brand. Should be easy enough.

Except, Jake didn’t come with that car. Or even a car at all.

A bike slowed down in front of Steven; the roaring machine petered out as the gas was let go carefully. Steven stared for a moment, uncomprehending. There was a small chuckle, muffled by the helmet, from the rider. When the helmet was opened, Steven had to hold himself back from reeling. Because it was Jake Lockley, on a bike, wearing leather jacket, and—oh, Lord have mercy on him—leather gloves as well. He looked comfortable and so, so unfairly hot like that. His curls were mussed from the helmet, an easy smile on his lips, the familiar stench of tobacco around him. Steven swallowed hard, and took a trembling step forward to greet the other man.

“Hullo,” he said, berating himself inwardly when his voice came out small and unsure.

“Been waiting long?” Jake asked, unclasping the second helmet on the back and handed it to Steven.

“No, not really,” he said. He put on the helmet, made sure the clasp was secured, before he cautiously got on the bike. “Didn’t know you ride a bike.”

“The car isn’t mine, it’s for all of us to use,” Jake explained, putting his helmet back on, and gripped the handles. “Never been on one of these babies before?” the man asked, peering at Steven from the side rearview mirror.

Steven shook his head. “Never been brave enough to try, to be exact,” he said. “Seems kinda dangerous, and I have enough bad luck as it is.”

Jake chuckled again, and prepared to go ahead, before he paused. “What are you doing?”

“What?” Steven said dumbly.

“What are you holding on?” Jake patiently elaborated.

“Oh,” he breathed out, and let go of the clutch he had on the seams of Jake’s jacket. “Sorry, didn’t know where to hold. Should I grab the bar?”

Jake shook his head, and much to Steven’s surprise and the imminent danger of his heart exploding, yanked Steven’s forearms to put it around the man’s waist. “You said it yourself; it’s dangerous. And it will be if you don’t hold on properly.”

Steven flailed a little, before he gingerly clasped his fingers together to hug Jake’s middle. It brought him closer to the man, right cheek pressed against a broad back. He could smell the leather and something that he guessed was Jake’s cologne, along with hints of sweat and musk. He barely restrained himself from burying his face on the man’s back completely, just to chase a little bit more of the heady scent.

“Hang on tight, princess,” Jake said, before they went off.

Steven didn’t want to admit that he squeaked in surprise. The bike was much faster than a car, and he wasn’t used to the maneuvering needed. He tightened his hold on Jake, closing his eyes as they went pass the streets in a blur. He was pretty sure they exceeded speed limit or something, but maybe it was just because he wasn’t used to the feeling of riding a bike.

It felt pleasant, to be honest, aside from the surprise and unfamiliarity. He could feel the wind on his face, the whizzing of every vehicle passing by, the flex of Jake’s torso each time they turned, the rumble of the machine, the way Jake’s shoulders looked so strong, felt that way, from the back. He might just enjoy this experience yet. Even if he knew that a big part of it was because it was Jake Lockley, and he got to wrap his arms around the man without making it awkward. If he pressed even closer until his front was plastered to Jake’s back—well, then, he was just unused to this, okay? No ulterior motive at all.

The ride went by faster than he’d like to admit. Before long, the bike slowed down as they entered the parking space of the repair shop. The mechanics didn’t spare them a glance, absorbed in their work. Khonshu was nowhere to be seen, but two men approached the bike, and started telling Jake about something Steven couldn’t pretend to understand.

“As much as I enjoy you clinging tight to me, we still have something to do,” Jake then said, and Steven felt his cheeks burn from embarrassment when he realized that he hadn’t let go. He had just clung to Jake in front of all these people. Great.

He let go hastily, almost stumbling as he got off the bike. Jake only laughed lightly and followed at a more sedate pace. He put the helmet on the seat, and went to unclasp Steven’s without prompting. He was probably used to how slow Steven was at everything, particularly when he was around Jake. Steven held his breath when Jake was once again within his personal space, his knuckles brushing the underside of his chin.

“Come on, little dove,” Jake said, walking towards Steven’s car.

He followed and watched with clenched fists as Jake easily divested his jacket, the muscles on his shoulders apparent through the thin black shirt. He hung it on the back of a chair, along with the gloves, which he bit down to pull off and nearly gave Steven a heart attack from doing so. He signaled to Steven to wait as he went to towards a door that must have led to the back room. Steven smiled at the mechanics around him, and some of them grinned at him; eyeing him and then glancing to where Jake had disappeared. He didn’t know, and didn’t think he wanted to know the silent conversation going between them as they exchanged loaded look with each other.

Jake came back with his jumpsuit ready, only this time, the upper part was tied around his waist, and Steven sucked in a deep breath because Jake’s shirt was tight and it clung to his defined chest. He was defined everywhere, it seemed. From his shoulders to his chest, the thick biceps and lean torso. Probably from all the heavy lifting he had to do in his job. Steven was a little bit envious; Marc was built almost similarly to Jake, and little old Steven was soft on the stomach because he didn’t exercise that much and he went through a box of chocolate whenever he tried to calm himself down from watching sad movies.

“We’ve taken a look at your car this morning,” Jake started, hands braced against the opened hood of the car. “It’s total wasteland in here.”

Steven shuffled his feet guiltily. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Jake hummed and pursed his lips a little. “There are problems on the battery, spark plugs, clutch cables, as well as dried oil. It’s a wonder you could drive as far as you could. You can go ahead and pay at the counter for the total, and they’ll give you the details of payment, things we need to change entirely or to simply repair.”

He then pointed to the cashier, and Steven ambled there. He listened without really understanding as the young woman who manned the cashier listed all the thing he should pay. He just gave her his credit card, and said his gratitude once she was done. Jake and the other mechanics were already in the process of tinkering with the machine when he came back.

“Your bag is on the bench,” Jake said without looking up.

Steven nodded and went to take his belongings. Everything was there, thankfully, nothing was missing. He went back to Jake, and clutched at the strap of his bag. “Um, how long does it take to fix it?”

“Give or take twelve days. Could be faster, could take longer; it depends,” Jake explained. “We’re a bit swamped, so I’m leaning towards around two weeks. We’ll notify you once it’s done.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Thank you for informing me. I guess I’ll take my leave?” He didn’t know why he even phrased it as a question. There was nothing else he could do here, anyway. He should let Jake work instead of bothering him.

“You got someone to drive you home tonight?”

“The taxi driver will, I’m sure,” he said with a light grin.

Jake laughed, and stepped away from the car, leaving two of his friends to continue fixing it. “Can you wait a bit? Just around,” he checked on the clock at the wall, and looked back to Steven, “twenty minutes. We’re closing soon anyway.”

“Oh,” Steven said, blinking a few times in surprise. He had thought that the offer was one-time. He didn’t expect to have Jake driving him home again. With his bike. And his leather jacket. And gloves. Oh, fuck. “Uh, I can? I mean, yes, I can. Definitely. Twenty minutes, no problem.”

Jake looked at him with a strange expression, as if he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or be exasperated. Probably both. In the end, however, he just led Steven to the bench, and went over to get his jacket and gloves. “Here, keep them safe for me. There’s a vending machine there if you want to drink something.”

Steven nodded and clutched the jacket closer. He put the gloves in his bag so he wouldn’t lose them. He’d keep them safe. They were worn, he realized, both the jacket and gloves, now that he had the chance to properly run his hand through the fabric. Some part of the leather on the shoulders was already flaking off, a sign of use and time. This was a well-beloved and taken care of item. Steven bit his lip, and tried not to be too conspicuous as he hugged the jacket closer to his chest. It was still warm from Jake’s body heat, and the previous scent wafted to his nose. He inhaled deep and clutched it tighter.

He watched as Jake talked with the other mechanics, laughing at something, before he went back to work on another car. He sounded so relaxed and comfortable, here in his elements, surrounded by the people he must have known for a long time. Instead of a young man who was seemingly cocky and devious, he was more open and playful. Boyish, was the right word. They ruffled his hair and he complained about their dirty hands; punching someone’s arm with a grin; muttering to himself as he bent over the hood of the car. He looked like he was enjoying himself.

Steven smiled to himself softly. It felt nice, to see a side of Jake that didn’t make him constantly flustered and losing his mind. He felt more real, somehow. Like someone Steven could care about instead of one he wanted to taste on his lips. Well, that too, but not only. This was worse than he had thought. Two days and he was thinking about such foolish things. Marc was right when he said that Steven gave his heart to easily for the world; falling too fast, shattering on the impact.

He hoped this was just a fleeting fancy, nothing more serious. Jake was charming and nice to be around. Steven shouldn’t use his kindness for his own benefit in feeding his fantasies. He knew that Marc never really approved Steven being in a relationship because not many people could understand him, could accept him as he was without demanding for some changes.

Changes weren’t always bad, as long as it means to improve, but most of the time, it was a critic of Steven’s personality and habit. It was hard not to be self-conscious of himself, after so long being the odd man out amongst his peers, to follow and bend over people’s will because he thought that they loved him, but Marc had picked up the pieces of his heart far too often. He didn’t want his brother to worry about him like that. It pained him to see Marc looking so sad and resigned.

But it was alright, this time. Jake was just naturally playful and flirty, it seemed. And Steven wouldn’t disappoint Marc again by nurturing his feelings. He felt guilty enough for desiring Jake physically. He didn’t need to take it further and put his emotions into play. Besides, people weren’t really interested in having a proper relationship with Steven once they got past the curiosity and the sweetness. They probably thought that he was too much of a dork, or too dependent on his brother, or just too weird in general because of his interests, behavior, and his internal problems, including the sleep-walking and the whole ankle restraint fiasco. Someone laughed at it once, and Marc broke their nose.

The idea that Jake would be interested in all of that mess was laughable enough.

He didn’t know how long time had passed, too engrossed in his own thought. But then Jake stood in front of him, already out of his jumpsuit, and sporting a smear of oil on his cheek. Steven stood up and reached out to wipe it with the sleeve of his shirt. It was more of a habit than anything else. Marc had done it to him countless times, as he did to Marc.

“There you go,” he said softly, smiling at Jake. “All clean.”

Jake didn’t say anything, and Steven suddenly realized that he might stepping on some landmine he wasn’t aware of. It was bold of him to touch Jake like that, despite the man having done the same yesterday. The thing was, Steven didn’t mind being touched, if he had to be honest. He didn’t get it much from anyone but Marc, but Marc was the only one he had in nearly everything. He supposed he was just lonely, or touch-starved, especially when Marc left for a while to enlist in the military, and when he started going out of country often for his job.

But he also knew that not everyone shared the same thought. He looked down and shuffled with his feet again. “I’m sorry,” he said.

There was a lone finger lifting up his chin, Jake’s dark eyes burning into his. “What for?” he asked, voice low enough that Steven had to strain to catch it. “You didn’t do anything wrong, little dove.”

Steven bit his lip, and nodded, feeling relieved and dizzy at the same time. If there was one thing he immediately noticed from Jake, aside from how unbelievably hot he was, it was his apparent lack of understanding of personal space. He had crowded into Steven a lot in the span of two days, never looking bothered with what he did. Not that Steven minded either.

Jake let his finger linger a little bit more, before he pulled his hand back. Steven unconsciously followed the warmth, and gritted his teeth when he realized too late what he was doing. “Are you- are you done for the night?” he then asked, just to alleviate the sheer mortification running through his veins. He kept forgetting that he shouldn’t do that. Marc might understand, but just because Jake had been touchy, didn’t mean that Steven should just let go of his inhibition.

“All done,” Jake nodded. Thankfully, he didn’t comment on Steven’s slip. “We can go now.”

Steven took the gloves out of his bag and gave it to Jake as the man put on his jacket. He waved a little at the other mechanics, while Jake just nodded at them and started walking towards the bike. This time, Steven was only less hesitant to put his arms around Jake. There was a pleased hum, an approval, coming from Jake at his decision. Steven didn’t know why it made his heart flutter so much. Perhaps, he was just that much of a people-pleaser.

They rode through the night, whizzing past buildings and streets. Steven felt more comfortable than the first time, and he could enjoy the sceneries as well as the feel of Jake in his arms better. They were more or less of the same height and build, though with considerable difference in muscle mass. Hugging Jake felt a lot like hugging Marc, and it brought a sort of familiar comfort in Steven. The warmth, the weight, the width, they all were nearly similar. He missed his brother more than he had thought, apparently.

He closed his eyes and tightened his hold on Jake, just enjoying the breeze hitting his face and bare hands that weren’t covered by the sleeves of his own jacket. It just felt nice to have someone to touch.

The bike then slowed, and Steven lifted his head to see that they had arrived. He climbed off the bike with some reluctance. His bum was sore, but he liked the experience enough. He gave the helmet back to Jake and smiled awkwardly at him. He didn’t know what to say, out of all thing to lose words at. He usually talked so much that oftentimes people just sighed and walked away, or in Marc’s case, very rare and only when he was in a particularly severe bad mood, just closed his palm over Steven’s lips and dragged him to the bed so they could sleep instead.

Jake reached out suddenly, and closed his hand over Steven’s. He didn’t realize he was squeezing his fists so tight from nervousness. “What is it?” he asked, gently this time, keeping his gloved hand wrapped around Steven’s wrist.

“I just—I don’t know,” he admitted with a sigh. “Thank you, I guess? For doing this for me. I know that you don’t have to pick me up and drive me home. I don’t even know where you live, whether it’s far from here. So, thank you, and sorry for being a burden.”

“You really think so lowly of yourself, don’t you?” Jake said, and tugged at Steven’s wrist, bringing him just a tad closer. “I was the one who offered. Don’t think too much and accept it as it is. I’m not one to do something I don’t want to.”

“Okay,” Steven nodded, chewing on his lower lip for a moment before he cautiously continued, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“In the morning,” Jake then said. “I’ll pick you up early. We can get some breakfast before work.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” Steven paused; Jake had tightened his hold around his wrist in a warning. He stuttered and nodded at last. “Okay, then. Breakfast tomorrow.”

Jake pulled his hand away, and nodded at Steven before he drove off. Steven watched his back going further and further away, before he walked into the apartment, not sure about how he should feel. He was happy, that was for sure. But also confused and kind of scared. Jake Lockley had the capability of wrecking him in merely two days, in only several hours. He didn’t know just how much he was going to embarrass himself if he spent more time in Jake’s presence.

But, hey, this wouldn’t last forever, and this could be the only time Steven could enjoy his company. Two weeks, Jake had said. Steven didn’t know how it’d end, but he could… perhaps he could just let himself have this for the short amount of time. It was harmless anyway, right? Just someone to talk to, have breakfast together, and a companion he saw before and after he worked.

It should be alright, he was sure.

#moon knight #shiki writes #from ao3 #jakesteven #marcsteven #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #alternate universe #mechanic jake #moonsea

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