#we usually only meet on weekends bc then we both have time

[nature-played-a-trick-on-me]

.

[koishiro]

# - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 📍

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : after meeting megumi’s dad, you’ll experience a night at the lake you’ll never forget

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : dilf!toji x non-virgin!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : short smut with the tiniest plot ever

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : cumming inside (readers on bc), oral (male receiving), cheating (toji’s married)

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : this is in a different universe where toji isn’t a complete dick to megumi and is a responsible parent (shocking I know) but still doesn’t completely get along with megs

Part 1 | 2 | 3

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

He was the first guy to ever get his cock to that place in the back of my mouth where it can slip into my throat.

It was an exhilarating discovery, learning there's a whole new thing out there to try and do. I was surprised no one had tried this with me before, from what I can gather after the fact it seems very popular with men, but they're too intimidated to try it in real life, or at least initiate it.

My friend, Nobara, had a lake house (which was really open to anyone, giving access to fishermen and, like us, a spot for hookups) about an hour away from our school. We'd go there a few times through the years with our group of friends which usually revolved around myself, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and whatever guys we were dating/crushing on at that time and spend the weekend playing drinking games and daring each other to go skinny dipping. It was every students dream.

I'd met Megumi’s dad a few times since I'd known him. I met him the same day I met ‘Gumi, walking past his dorm I saw his dad lugging heavy furniture into his dorm, sweaty and attractive — in a rugged, masculine way. I had found out later that his name was Toji.

"Has anyone ever told you your dad is really hot?" I asked Megumi when we were both sat crossed-legged on his bed that night, figuring a little salacious question asking would bond us, "Ha ha, are you one of those girls? I don't get the whole "hot dad" thing. They're just old.”

Figuring I had hit a sore spot, It was the last conversation we had about him, but it definitely wasn't the last time I thought about him. I always made sure to dress my best when I knew he was stopping by. Little dresses only a freshman would wear, low cut tank tops and once — when I was especially bored — a sheer white t-shirt with no bra underneath because, "whoops" I had just rolled out of bed.

It was a fun game to play but I didn't think he ever noticed, or at least he never really acknowledged me until one of those debaucherous weekends when ‘Gumi and his dad got their messages crossed and we all ended up at the lake house together. At first it was uncomfortable when we arrived and saw the trucks, Toji was there accompanied by some other men. They had planned a weekend for drinking. But, Toji gave us a wink and told us to stay on the lower level and he'd stay out of our way. Everyone felt relieved and told ‘Gumi how lucky he was to have a "cool" dad. But I felt something else when Toji winked at us.

That night, after many, many drinks I found myself wandering out to the dock. Everyone else had passed out, but I was wide awake. I saw Toji approaching me from the windy path down the hill from the cabin, two bottled beers in one hand. He handed one to me wordlessly, searching my eyes for something — the reason I was awake and alone maybe.

We stood there silently until he stepped forward and brushed my hair off my face, "You're a beautiful girl, (name), don't think that goes unnoticed" I blushed, could he tell I was harboring a crush on him? Did he notice the way I jerked slightly at his touch, nervous about my body's powerful response to it?

"Thanks Toji," I said, taking a swig of my beer and looking at the moonlight reflecting over the waves. When I dared to make eye contact with him again I realized he hadn't moved, he was still watching me intently. Did this mean — before I could finish my thought, he was on me, one hand placed very firmly on my lower back the other in my hair as he kissed me. His tongue was in my mouth before I knew what was happening, tracing mine. I had the urge to wrap my legs around him, but there was nowhere to balance on this dock.

"Come up to my bedroom" It was a request, but it was also a statement, he was sure of my answer.

I giggled when we crossed the threshold and closed the door behind us. It wasn't just that when he grinned and you could see the wrinkles around his eyes, it wasn't just the physical attraction. It was his demeanor, it was that he was a real live man, not a flimsy college boy. This was going to be a different kind of hook-up.

"You're married," I reminded him, not particularly pleased about remembering this detail myself.

"I can keep a secret," he said, closing his mouth on mine again, and backing us to the bed.

He removed all my clothing fairly quickly and laid on top of me, fully clothed. The rough textures rubbing against my bare skin felt incredible. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he rasped out. "I've waited for a very long time”

I wanted to prove that I was worth it, all this risk. So I reached up and felt him through his pants, staring longingly into his eyes. He pulled his shirt over his head as I unbuckled, unzipped, and released a very healthy looking cock.

I slid off the bed and onto the floor to get a better angle and he stood over me, gathering my hair behind my head as I started blowing him. I looked up at him and was rewarded with a face that was most definitely in ecstasy as I took him in my mouth.

He held my head down on his cock while I took him in deeply. This was a move widely hated by every woman I knew, but it was usually performed by dumb frat-type boys. But Toji was no boy, he knew what he was doing, he was looking out for me and making the experience short — just long enough to add a bit of excitement. When he pulled out of me he gave me his all too cocky grin and leaned down to kiss me, “I knew you'd be good at this”

He pulled me up and walked me over to a dresser placed underneath a large window. I could still see the moonlight on the lake as he bent me over it. Was it really just a few moments ago we were nearly strangers on that dock together? I was brought back to reality by Toji spreading my legs further apart and pushing my upper back down until my bare breasts were pressed against its cool surface and I felt him enter me.

"Oh my god..." I couldn’t help but moan as he thrusted into me. He shushed me by placing his hand over my mouth for a moment as he picked up speed. My moan was apparently too loud but he was willing to risk the loud sound it made as he slapped my ass over and over, groaning and filling me with his cock. I couldn't believe how turned on this was making me. I was no virgin but I'd never experienced sex like this — it wasn't awkward or embarrassing or rushed. I was very aware that I was getting fucked by a Man, not "fooling around" with a boy.

"Are you on birth control?" He asked and when I answered yes he cooed, "good girl, my good girl" The sound of that phrase coming out of his mouth sent me over the edge and I felt myself spasming around his cock as I released myself into my orgasm, even enjoying the sensation of a bit of extra liquid rolling down my thigh.

He was still thrusting into me rhythmically, alternating between kneading my breasts and grabbing — and slapping — my ass. I hadn't had sex last this long before and I loved being able to savor the feeling. "I'm getting close," he groaned and I tensed my body up, holding my place more firmly so that he could get deeper inside me as he unloaded his semen into me.

"You're so good at this, but I can tell you're just a beginner," He began as we laid on his bed to rest. I laughed, it was true. I had this fantasy about being a girl who gave amazing head and being really good at all the sex stuff, like some kind of femme fatale men couldn't resist. "I can sense you want to learn though” I nodded in agreement. I could play out this crush and learn what would drive my next actual boyfriend wild — who wouldn't want to kill those two birds with one stone?

And so, I began a year-long affair with Toji. We'd sneak away for a weekend when I said I was visiting my parents and meet at the lake house for lessons — how to stimulate differently for a long or a slow blow job, which positions let him get in the deepest while still providing some kind of external stimulation for me, how to prepare for and receive anal, how to lie with my head falling off the edge of the bed and allow him to push his cock into my throat (without choking). Occasionally I just gave him head while he drove me around, careful not to drive anywhere too well-lit or populated.

Now, how was I to tell Megumi?

—

Part 1 | 2 | 3

[underoossss]

Driving Lessons — S.H

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

warnings: none

masterlist

4k

an: hi everyone! here’s a new fluffy fic for you. best friends to lovers goodness to brighten your weekend. I dedicate this to everyone who like me was terrified when they learned how to drive and those who don’t drive bc it’s scary af. steve is just so sweet and perfect and I think he’d be a wonderful teacher specially if he has a crush on you. I hope you enjoy! Pls let me know if you liked this!

The doorbell rings just as you finish getting ready. It’s a sunny summer morning and you decided to fight off the heat with a white dress with tiny pink roses printed on it, a denim vest and converse. You check the clock by your bed and as always Steve is right on time.

You’d woken up with a start this morning from a terrible nightmare you don’t want to think about. Steve had an angry wound on the side of his abdomen and was in no state to drive. He needed your help, but you don’t know how to drive, so you were helpless to do anything else but to press his own t-shirt against the wound. The same desperation haunted you all through breakfast and gave you the push you needed to face your fears. Driving. You’re going to learn, no matter how much panic it causes you.

That’s why Steve is here, you called him earlier and agreed to meet here at noon. And punctual as ever, he’s already waiting on the porch. You heart drums loudly inside your chest, excited to see your friend, your best friend, and object of all your affection. Though no one needs to know the last part.

You open the door, and the pitter patter of your heart gets out of control no matter how much you try to remind it that he’s your friend. Nothing more. Steve looks sun kissed by the summer sun and beautiful as always, with various freckles standing out across his face. Broad shoulders in a white t-shirt and light washed jeans that fit him just right, his old Cortez shoes and usual brown watch. You hate him, and you love him so much.

“Hi Stevie.” Your smile breaks free as you greet him with a hug.

“Hey you.” Steve’s smile is clear in his voice as his arms go around you. It’s a tight hug and soon enough, he’s lifting you off the ground and spinning you around.  

You laugh as he sets you down on the ground. “Someone’s happy.”

“How can I not be? I’m spending the day with you.” Steve smiles brightly, “What’s this you have to ask me? Got me nervous all the way here.”

You shake your head; how can you not be crazy about him when he’s so damn sweet with you. You decide to tackle his question instead. “Why would you be nervous?”

 “I wasn’t sure if we need to hide a dead body.” He shrugs.

“Not today.” You play along with a fake frown and smile when it makes Steve laugh. A moment later you turn shy under his gaze when it lingers on your face. “Okay I called you because I need you to teach me how to drive. Please.”

“How to drive?” Steve’s eyebrows shoot up towards his forehead as his brown eyes widen. “You got tired of me already sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the nickname, and hit his shoulder softly; Steve takes that same wrist and holds on to swing your hands between you. It endears you and makes you love him a little bit more, it’s only noon. “You hurt me.” He says all drama as always.

“No, Stevie.” You tilt your head towards your shoulder, choosing not to tell him about last night’s nightmare. “I just want to learn in case there’s an emergency or something.” When Steve’s eyes soften, you look away.

“Okay,” He says quietly, then tucks a rogue strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to start right now?” Steve asks you, completely unaware of the fact that you’ve stopped breathing.

“God, no. I’m scared.” You shake your head, trying to ignore the way your heart hurts at his soft gesture. “I was going to suggest ice cream first.”

Steve smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulder pulling you to his side as he leads both of you to his parked car in the driveway. “Alright, ice cream first. You look beautiful by the way.”

You lean your head on his shoulder and shake his head. “Is this you trying to get me to pay?”

Steve only laughs and rolls his eyes.

“First things first, seat belt.” Steve glances behind you with a nod of his head. The two of you are sitting in his car, but while he’s always in the drivers seat, he’s the passenger today.

You turn around and bring the seat belt across your torso before it clicks into place once fastened. “Okay.”

Steve scratches his chin and you watch for only a second before looking ahead, no distractions. “Now, adjust the mirrors; you should see everything with the rear view mirror and the front door’s handle with your other two. I’ll move this one for you.” He reaches out of the car and brings it forward a tiny bit until you nod.

“Alright that’s good.” You do the same with the one on your right before wiping your hands on your dress. You take a shaky breath and look back at Steve. “Now what?”

Steve’s grinning when you meet his eyes and shakes his head briefly. He nods towards the keys hanging from the ignition switch. “Now you turn on the car.”

Panic bubbles deep in your stomach but you nod anyway, pushing through the many anxious thoughts in your head. This is why you never made it past a single lesson during driver’s ed, your fear. What if you crash the car, hurt someone, hurt Steve? You’re grateful that your hand doesn’t shake when it turns the key, bringing the car to life.

“Hey,” Steve says, and you look over at him to find him smiling at you. “You’re doing great.”

“Thank you, Stevie.” You swallow down the rising panic inside your chest as you look at the steering wheel. At least Steve’s car isn’t mechanic. Steve points at the pedals by your feet which makes you focus again.

“Right one’s accelerator, and the left one’s the break.” Steve explains. “The car’s in park now so it won't move even if you hit the gas.” He looks up at you to make sure you’re okay to go on and you give him a half nod. “If you break and change the gear to Drive, then it’ll move.”

“What?” You ask him when he glances at you expectantly.

Steve motions to the gear stick behind the wheel with his head. It’s time, you guess and swallow hard, pressing down the break pedal and shifting the car to drive. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears, and your hands break a sweat. Trying to push through though, you take your foot off the breaks and accelerate slowly, but it only seems to make your panic worse. The car only moves about 8 feet before you stop and put it back on Park, shutting your eyes tightly. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Steve reaches over and shuts down the engine before turning towards you. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asks you softly, a hand on your shoulder. It rubs down your arm gently and grabs one of your hands from the steering wheel. “Talk to me, what happened?”

“I’m sorry I panicked.” You confess, keeping your eyes shut. “This is scary.”

“Okay.” You open your eyes to see Steve nod, gaze full of concern as it meets yours. “Want to tell me what scares you?”

Taking your seat belt off you turn towards him and rest your forehead on his shoulder. “Stevie, what if I crash your car and we both end up hurt.”

You feel Steve take a deep breath and his hand let go of yours in favour of running up and down your back. “That won’t happen.”

“You don’t know that.” You mumble with a shake of his head.

“I do.” Steve counters, pushing on your shoulder gently to look into your eyes. “We’re only going to turn right and drive to the dead end, nothing crazy. No cars will hit you, babe, you know it’s a quiet road.”

You look out the windshield towards the road in question. No one ever drives by, just the three homeowners who live in the dead end, but they’ve already left for the day. If that’s the only practice you’ll have today, you think you can manage to keep your fear in check.

“There we go.” Steve smiles triumphantly when you nod in determination. “Ready?”

“Yes.” You click your seat belt into place and turn on the car.   

Just as Steve promised, you only go back and forth from your house to the dead end. He’s patient and gentle as he gives various instructions, when to break and when to accelerate. He guides you through the u-turn and how to back up when you mess up said u-turn. The initial paralyzing dread fades to manageable nerves as 45 minutes go by, and smile when Steve gives you a knowing look.

“Feeling more confident?” He asks as you park in your driveway once more.

“Yeah, a bit.” You let out a deep breath and nod.  “I know I’m safe if I’m with you, Steve.”

“You are.” Steve mirrors your nod and clears his throat, then motions towards his door. “Come on, let’s switch. We’re renting a movie so you can relax.”

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Stevie, it’s so early.” You mumble, opening your front door at 6am on a Saturday. You look up at him, he looks just as sleepy as you but handsome as always. His hair is a mess of chocolate waves, and the light blue polo he wears with his jeans looks great on him. An outfit so basic shouldn’t look so good; it’s his shoulders you think, they make those damn polos look gorgeous on him.

“Well, you’re the one scared of driving.” Steve’s voice brings you back to the present. “If we go right now, the streets will be all yours. It’ll help with your nerves.”

“I’m sure, it’s the crack of dawn during summer after all.” You joke, sleepiness slowly leaving your body. A smile takes over your face at Steve’s sheepish expression and you can’t help but lean in for a hug. “Thank you, Stevie.”

“You know, people aren’t supposed to look so pretty at 6am.” Steve says, stepping back and meeting your eyes. You heart drops to your stomach for a moment at his words and you look down at your clothes. Black denim shorts, converse, and a sweatshirt.

“You really need some glasses, Steve.” You chuckle, bumping your shoulder into his as you walk towards his car.

“My eyesight is perfect, babe.” Steve gives you a wink that leaves you flustered and trying to understand what’s happening. “Come on.” He places the keys to his car on your hand and opens the passenger door.

Steve lounges back on his seat, pointing towards the direction he thinks you should go. He tells you when to break, what to do in an intersection and the roads you should avoid at a normal hour. Like he said, all of Hawkins is asleep and there’s not a single car on sight as you drive through the town. He was right, the nerves and awful dread you felt the first time you tried to drive his care are gone as you drive the empty streets; no one’s gonna hit you because no one’s here. The radio stays off though, you’re not a professional yet and the music only distracts you. There’s no way you’re crashing because you were singing to Blondie.

“You’re doing amazing.” Steve says, and you control your reaction to his praise. Knowing you’re doing a good job makes you feel giddy inside, so you glance at him quickly with a smile. “Pull into that parking lot right there. I think we can practice parking today.”

“Okay, good cause there are no cars for me to run into.” You joke, looking at Steve and laughing when he frowns. He doesn’t like you doubting yourself, right. “I’m kidding, Stevie.” You check your mirror, and turn the blinker on before you make a turn towards the parking lot. The concrete floor is deserted and fifty-something empty spaces stare back at you.

“Now what?”

“Okay,” Steve sits up straighter and rubs his chin, deep in thought. You can imagine the way his eyes light up when the idea finally comes to him. “Now you have to sort of turn away from the parking spot then turn back in.”

It sounds like gibberish for a moment before you go over his words and catch on to his explanation. Still, how can you pass up an opportunity to tease him?

“Real good explanation, Steve. Super clear.” You chuckle with an eye roll. “But I think I know what you mean.” Following his instructions, you drive the car towards the right before turning left and moving between the two white lines in front of you. At least that’s your intention, but what you end up doing is driving over one of the lines –taking two spaces.

“Come on don’t make that face, it’s your first try.” Steve shakes his head taps the dashboard. “Check the rear-view and backup. You got it.”

You do as Steve says and try to park on the spot next to you, turning a little more to the right so when you drive into the empty space, you’re perfectly parked in between both lines. “There! I did it!” You cheer, putting the car on park and turning to Steve. “Ha!”

He’s smiling too, celebrating this small win and high-fiving you. Steve’s fingers intertwine with yours and keep your hands in his hold, giving them a tight squeeze. There’s happiness and affection shining in his eyes –brown and beautiful and a little sleepy from how early it is– making your blood fizzy under your skin and your body feel like it’s glowing. There’s no one in this world like him, someone who is your cheerleader and makes you feel this happy and safe. And in love.

But the glint in his eye tells you he’s going to say something; you definitely missed something. “You didn’t check the right-side mirror babe; a car can come from your right, and you could’ve crashed into them.”

“Ugh!” You lean you head back on the headrest and look at the roof. Defeat washes over you, there’s so many rules to this driving gig; just when you think you’ve got it right, it’s actually the opposite. Your hands cover your face. “Fucking mirrors.”

Steve laughs next to you, a warm and beautiful sound that wipes away your frown as he shakes his head. His hand takes one yours again a moment later and gives it a squeeze. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Glancing to your right at him you feel your heart dance in your chest at his soft smile. His eyes dance around your face in a way you can’t really describe, and it flusters you beyond words. You smile at him though, ignoring the acrobatics your stomach is performing and the feelings rising to the surface once more. He’s your friend and he’s helping you, nothing more. Don’t make it something it’s not.

Steve is the one who breaks the moment first, eyes going back towards the dashboard. His hand lets go in favour of motioning towards the steering wheel. “Come on, let’s keep practising.”

“Can we go get coffee after?” You ask as you spot the sun beginning to rise in the distance.

“Anything for you babe, you just gotta learn how to park.” Steve settles back on his seat and you look out your window to bite back your smile. He’s got to stop talking to you so sweetly.”

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Can they please stop honking!” You mutter. The burning orange of the setting sun is shining through the trees and painting the dark asphalt in front of you as you drive by. It would be beautiful if not for the car that’s been tailgating you for five minutes now. To say you’re frustrated at the incessant sound of its honking would be an understatement, you’re sweating buckets, and you can hear your pulse in your ears. Your shoulders are tense and pulled tight towards your ears and there’s nothing you wish more than to arrive to Steve’s place. “Stevie.” You plead, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Ignore them, you’re doing great.” Comes Steve’s easy response, but he still checks the rear-view mirror and glares at the car behind you. “Of course, it’s some dude in a truck.” You hear him mutter as he shakes his head.

“I’m sweating, I told you I can’t drive on this road yet.” You complain, rolling your shoulders back to ease the tension. “But no, you had to insist.”

“Well, you had to eventually, babe.” Steve shrugs leaning towards the window and looking at you. Then after a sigh, he adds, “Nothing’s going to happen, relax alright.”

Another loud honk helps you do the opposite.

“Tell him to fuck off.” You groan, glancing at the truck behind you. Great now he’s flicking his headlights at you. “I’m literally driving at the speed limit.”  

Steve shakes his head and motions to the road ahead, where the lane splits into two. “You’re fine, look, he can drive past you now.” Right on cue the truck accelerates and drives by, letting you breathe. Your shoulders sag, and when you spot a dinner in the distance you finally relax. There’s no way you’re driving the rest of the way.

“Okay, you’re switching places with me. I’ll try again tomorrow.” You announce after a sigh.  

You turn the blinker on, and perfectly park on a free spot before shutting off the car and getting out. You look at the setting summer sun and breathe in to calm down, at least you made it halfway to Steve’s. Even the shirt you’re wearing feels stifling and your back is sweaty, so you take it off, which leaves you in a black tank top. “That made me age like 70 years.”

You look to your left and find Steve looking at you in that way you both hate and secretly love. He’s leaning against the car, arms crossed in front of him, and his eyes have gone soft. They linger on you, like he loves watching you, like you’re his favourite sight. But is it him or you projecting that? What does that mean, Steve, what is this look? You shake your head and look away; he always looks so handsome in the golden hour, you can’t catch a break. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, stop apologizing.” He rolls his eyes, sounding exasperated but fond as he offers you a hug. You’re quick to step into his arms and relax against him, you stand no chance when it comes to Steve. He calls and you’ll always answer. Though you wish for nothing more than to bury your face in his neck and breathe him in, let yourself melt against him, you don’t. That it would be weird and you’re just friends. “You, okay?”

You nod against his shoulder and hug him tighter. “Yeah, I just wish I didn’t get so nervous.” It’s been like this a few days, you stopping and getting out of the car; it’s frustrating and a big blow to your confidence every time. “

“You know I don’t mind driving you, right?” Steve mumbles against your hair, his thumbs rubbing circles on your lower back. “If this is stressing you out too much we can stop, I’m happy to drive you anywhere.”

“I know that, Stevie.” You whisper as you close your eyes, deciding to tell him about your dream. “But I had a nightmare the other week, we were in the middle of nowhere, you were really hurt and I couldn’t drive you to the hospital. It was horrible but it made me realise if that happened, I wouldn’t be able to help and I don’t want that.”

“Babe.” Steve sighs, his hands pressing firmly up and down your back. “That won’t happen, it was just a bad dream.”

“I know, but in the off chance that it happens, I want to know that I can help you, Stevie.” You say, shutting your eyes tightly as the image of a hurt Steve comes back. There’s no way you’re losing him over something as simple as driving.

“Alright, we’ll see this through then.” Steve breathes out, holding you for a moment longer before he places a kiss to your temple and steps back. His beaming smile is back on his face, to ease your nerves, you’re sure; it works. “Let’s go, the ice cream’s going to melt. Good job today.”

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Are you sure?” You ask Steve on a Monday morning, one month of practice later you’re ready to take your driving test. Steve Harrington is offering you his car for the test.

“Of course, babe.” Steve shrugs and hands you his keys. “Let’s go get that license.”

You want to smile at him, thank him for how wonderful he’s been but there’s a sadness creeping into your heart and it casts a shadow over your joy. No more lessons after today. Steve is probably sick of you already. You, on the other hand, don’t want this to end, you want to spend more time with him. Hell, you want to spend all of your time with him. Steve notices your frown and steps closer to you, his hand reaches for yours.

“What’s wrong?” A gentle squeeze.

You let go of his hand and lie. “Nothing, I’m just nervous.” With a half-hearted chuckle you leave his side and walk towards his car. “We should get going.”

The drive towards Hawkins High is quiet, with you concentrating and ignoring your aching heart and Steve looking out his window. It’s still early and the town is quiet around you when you drive by. You’ve come so far since your first day and this is where it ends, with you coming closer to Steve after all those hours spent together –something you didn’t think could be possible. Now you’re trying to think of excuses to continue the driving lessons but come up empty handed. Maybe this was all a mistake, the worst mistake, for now your feelings are all over the place and the words I’m in love with you are on the tip of your tongue.

Your favourite song comes on the radio, and you don’t pay it any mind; you can see Steve look at you in surprise from the corner of your eye. Then, because he’s wonderful, the most wonderful and caring boy, he reaches for your hand and squeezes it tightly.

“Hey, I know you’re scared.” He says gently, “And I know me saying this doesn’t help but…”

Steve takes a deep breath, and you squeeze his hand again before he continues. “I’m not lying when I say you’re ready, so please relax this is your favourite song.”

With a quick glance at him, a grin breaks free and soon you’re laughing as Steve turns up the volume and sings loudly. “There’s a room where the light won’t find you! Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down!”

You laugh and smile and sing with him, letting nerves and aborted confessions slide off your back for now. “When they do, I’ll be right behind you!”

The two of you continue to drive like that, happy and carefree and clutching the other’s hand –like you’re unwilling to let go– until the song ends right as you arrive at the high school. Your smile is replaced by a frown and you glance at Steve as you spot the evaluator. He’s a middle-aged man wearing a plaid shirt and khaki pants, black rimmed glasses are perched on top of his nose, and a mustache sits over a deep frown. “He looks so grumpy.”

“Well, it’s 9am on a Saturday.” Steve says simply, “He probably hates you.”

Your eyes widen and you glare at your friend. “Steve!”

When he laughs you shove his shoulder and roll your eyes. Leave it to him to be a jerk when you’re already nervous. “Get out, the faster we’re done the better.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve turns on his seat to face you and his hands move to hold your face. Your next breath catches on your throat at his actions as you look into his lovely brown eyes. They’re full of faith in you, encouraging you with only one look. “Good luck.” He whispers as his thumb rubs at the apple of your cheek. Brown eyes drift down to your lips, and Steve’s face leans the tiniest bit closer to yours. Is he going to…?

Then just as fast as it happens, he’s stepping out of the car; you feel the ghost of his touch burns your skin. Not a moment later, the evaluator gets into the car.

“Seatbelt.” You mutter, watching Steve’s retreating figure head towards the bench by the entrance. Is there a tiny chance that Steve feels the same way about you?

“Let’s start.” The man next to you grumbles, snapping you back into action.

Your mind is half present on the test and half wondering about what just happened. Following your usual route through town, you come to a conclusion. Of two facts you’re absolutely sure. One: You’re hopelessly in love with Steve, and a moment ago you thought he would absolutely kiss you. The other, well the man sitting next to you hasn’t said a single word since the test started. His only instructions were Just drive. And so, you drive. Every time you try to ask something he shakes his head, so after a few turns around main street, you go back to the school.

You heave a sigh as you parallel park and shut down the engine. “Well?”

“Passed.” The evaluator hands you a slip of paper with your test without another word. You don’t care as you thank him quickly and run out of the car, towards Steve.

“Stevie!” You yell, meeting him halfway as he run towards you, and waving the piece of paper frantically. “I passed!”

“Babe! I told you so!” His arms are around you a moment later, holding you tightly and lifting you off the ground just like the day your quest for a driver’s license started. You hold onto him just as tightly, laughing against his shirt as he spins you around. “Told you, you could do it!”

When you’re back on the ground and look up at Steve, the same joy you’re feeling is shining back from his beautiful brown eyes. All the same emotions including love, in the very same way it sparkles whenever you’re looking at him. Your best friend who’s also so kind-hearted and amazing, and so devastatingly handsome, you never stood a chance against falling for him. This is who you love, who you want. The man who woke up at 6 in the morning to teach you how to drive, who chased off your fears and cheered on your wins with hugs and sweet milkshakes; the one who never once lost his temper, no matter how much you messed up. Steve who let you use his car.

“It's all thanks to you.” You whisper, hand going to his cheek and drifting upwards towards his hair. “Thank you, Stevie.”

“You know I would do anything for you.” Is all he says, his voice matching yours.

You nod, smiling a teary smile when your emotions overflow. “I love you so much, you have no idea. And I know it’s stupid but I don’t want to stop spending all that time with you just ‘cause I passed my test.”

“I think you don’t know this, but,” Steve smiles disarming you in a second as he leans closer to you. “I’m crazy about you, babe, I want to be with you all the time.”

“Really?” Your voice is breathless as you lean closer.

“Would I wake up at the crack of dawn just to see you, if I didn’t?” His lips are so close to yours you can feel your breath mingling. Then after a pause, he whispers softly, “I love you.”

Leaning up on your tiptoes you close the gap between you and kiss him. It’s a short press of lips before Steve’s hands hold your face to kiss you better, angling your faces in the perfect way to deepen the kiss. He takes your bottom lip between his, your hands run through his hair, and the brush of his lips is as soft and as urgent as you dreamed they would be. How many times have you imagined this exact moment and still be so unprepared thing. Kissing Steve is wonderful, it’s perfect, it feels like drinking stardust and glowing from within. You can tell how much both of you have wanted this from the overwhelming emotions threatening to consume you; the fact that it’s taken you so long makes you giggle against his mouth.

“What?” Steve asks against the corner of your lips, unwilling to pull away.

“Nothing,” You shake your head, stepping back and looking up at him. “I’m just so happy.”

His gaze goes impossibly softer as he looks at you, “Me too.”

A long moment later, you steal another kiss because you can, and take Steve’s hand. “Celebratory breakfast?” “You got it, beautiful.” Steve says, eyes unable to contain his affection towards you. He leads both of you back to his car, swinging your hands between your bodies. “You’re driving.”

reblogs are appreciated💖 motivate an unmotivated writer pls

[httpiastri]

also omg spill the tea on meeting the drivers in spa!!! (only if you want to ofc, ignore this if you don’t 🙏)

aaaaaa okay its time!!!!!! dont grill me if my opinions don't match someone else's, i tried to be as kind as i can 🙏 gonna divide this into categories bcs i met some ppl who are not currently on the f2/f3 grids aaaaa but yeah here we go 🤭

(i saw and was close to pretty much all drivers, but im only including the ones that stood out to me in certain ways here 😊 in order of their racing numbers !!)

f3 !!!

dino beganovic - okayyy soooo. this and paul's will go kinda in the same direction… like i was not surprised to see him act not like super happily lol. i understand! when around fans or just people he doesn't know too well, he was not very excited. but when he was talking to jamie (ollie's... idk what he is? manager ish?), he was that cute happy self he can be! but most of the time, it was the dino we get to see in most prema videos from this year (like the "how well do you know your teammates" one) where he's just…. idk :/ dont blame him tho, im sure he's a great guy once you get to know him!!

gabriele mini - honestly i feel like i barely saw him, except when he and his gf were leaving 😭 welp. but he seemed happy to carry around his trophy!!

arvid lindblad - saw him already on thursday and was shocked both because i couldn't believe my eyes (it's him!! he actually exists!!!!!) and bcs he was much shorter than i had anticipated 😭 sorry arvid

sami meguetounif - i didn't see him around a lot but i saw him on the friday helping his team pack up the tent (carrying big things and such), while all other drivers seemed to not really care (from what i could see)(not just trident, but all teams). respect !!!!!!

tim tramnitz - i knew he was tall but he looked even taller irl!!!! i was so shocked, i felt so tiny

ollie goethe - seemed really happy and lowkey surprised when fans wanted to take pics with him 🥺 had a terrible haircut tho lmao i felt so bad for him... but he seemed so sweet all weekend!!! rlly wish i had talked to him aaaaaa

sebastian montoya - saw him around a lot talking to all kinds of drivers, seems very social butterfly-y :) he seemed very happy after the feature, and he seemed to definitely bring up pepe's mood too because they were talking and joking around for a long time 🥺 his sister (paulina) is also even more gorgeous irl omfg i didn't even think that would be possible…. like we always talk about how amazing she looks in pics but she was so so gorgeous irl (sadly didn't get to see her interact with nikita but 💔 i'll live ig)

luke browning - saw him tons and !! why is he so handsome ?!?!?!! genuinely fell in love all over again. what even. like i keep constantly thinking back to the eye contact we shared and im just. 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 seemed sweet with fans too, not super energetic but agreed to pics and such. wish i had shown him my browning bracelet or asked him to sign my sm shirt but i was too shy 💔

christian mansell - saw him get really happy when fans recognized and talked to him, i wanted to show him my mewsell bracelet but didn't have the courage 💔 but sweet and happy as usual!! no surprises there

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎

f2 !!!

victor martins - actually dont think i saw him all weekend 😭 idk how i managed that

zak o'sullivan - i saw him a few times, he seemed like a bit down ?? very understandable considering how he had glandular fever ?!?!?!?!!! poor boy :( but god did he look good despite it lmao

ollie bearman - very tall and definitely very popular, always ppl waiting to take pics with him lol! didnt speak to him and wasnt very close to him either but he seemed smiley and happy :) tbh i think i saw jamie more than i saw ollie himself ?? lmao

kimi antonelli - tiny!! and the hair is so so curly!!!! he was actually cuter irl, dont understand how he can do that but yeah. also very popular, and was very happy and kind when fans wanted pics hehe

zane maloney - think this guy had like a magnet attached to me or something because i saw him everywhere all the time 😭 like even when there were no other f2 drivers left, he was there… seemed sweet, his freckles are really cute irl too :)

jak crawford - so so tall!!! and the hair looked even better irl oh my god

juan manuel correa - was a second away from asking him for an autograph but he started talking on the phone at that exact moment 😶 seemed so sweet tho!

gabriel bortoleto - aka bortolotti as the commentators said 😐 saw him chatting with a bunch of different drivers, very much a social butterfly like sebas (or is it just because he's very liked in the paddock? likely both). wanted to go up to him when he was talking to luke (they stood outside their hospitality for a long time just talking) and ask for autographs on my sm tshirt (and to tell them that i loved their appearances on the pod) but was too nervous shdjdhdj

enzo fittipaldi - he had the cutest interaction ever with his gf, i nearly melted at the sight of them 🥺 and big bro was there supporting him all weekend too which was cute lol

paul aron - the driver i think most ppl are gonna read and ignore all other drivers lol. i only saw him on the friday and… well….. i wasnt surprised because i had not expected him to be the most open and excited etc. 🤷‍♀️ like he did agree to take pics and such! he put on a little smile for the fans! but there was nothing extra, which i understand. i think we all know the kind of expression he puts on and how "neutral" he looks at most times? like, when he's not around a close friend etc then he seems a little cold. to me, i feel like it just makes his smiles much more valuable in some way!! he wasnt very smiley even with karl or ralf, ig maybe he was focused on qualifying, but he didnt give anything extra and i dont blame him for that. still owns my heart !!!! <33 and i think that the difference from dino is that he seemed more focused and more ig neutral than cold like dino. paul didnt seem neither happy nor mad etc, just blank. 😌 (but god did he look SO GOOD, his hair was so light and my heart wanted to jump out of my chest istg. he looked so so good that i was too shy to even look too much at him 😭)

is*ck h*djar - pls i dont wanna say what i actually think but. his mom was so sweet 😭 my dad (who, for context, does hobby photography) held his camera aimed to the campos truck door in case pepe would come out, but she came out instead and like apologized and stuff for being in the way? so cute :((

pepe marti - 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 how do i even begin to describe him? when there aren't enough words in the entire world? the most gentle and sweet person ever actually, he seemed so tired and just done with the weekend when i talked to him but he still made time for me and tried to stay optimistic. sweetest boy ever <33333333 (i actually still cant really believe i met him and talked to him. like my brain still short-circuits a bit when i think about it. he was just truly an angel and i miss him so much <//3 i also cried a ton after that lol but he didn't see it so that's okay)(also his hands look even bigger irl 😁 sorry gtg)

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎

former drivers/others !!!

fred vesti - like 10 minutes after the gp had finished, i just happened to accidentally run into him? like he was just heading out of the gate i was going into and so i stopped and gasped and just!!!!! and no one around me even looked at him (we were walking around general admission yk, just a big crowd all heading out on the track) which made me really sad but it was so cool to see him irl!!! he was taller than i had expected awww and so pretty

ralf aron - the only sentence that's still swirling around in my head: "is it possible to fall in love at first sight if you're already a fan?"....... because i think i fell in love 🫠🫠 when i tell you he was gorgeous, i mean it on a NEW LEVEL. like im obsessed. i was obsessed before but now im obsessed^2. actually insane. and he has the exact same voice as paul omg i would not be able to tell them apart irl. i love him so much, please help

adrian campos (jr) - sorry for including two team principals but 😭 idk where i get my shyness and social anxiety from because my dad has some kind of talent with people. he talks to everyone and everyone like him ??? anyways so he just randomly went up to the campos team principal and asked about pepe and they had a short but very friendly discussion 😭 and then he even came up to my dad later for new pepe updates lmao so he was a really sweet guy!!!

rene rosin - i didnt speak to him, saw him around a lot tho, but pt 2 of "my dad collecting team principals"…. my dad went to the f3 paddock and came back to tell me that he talked to "some prema dude" about dino's car… the convo went my dad: "is dino's car perfect now?". prema dude: "perfect for what?!". dad: "perfect for winning, of course!". prema dude: "yes, of course!!" and they had laughed and joked around and what not. i thought it was a funny interaction but didnt think more about that. until a while later, my dad pointed at rene and went "there's my friend from before!!" and i just ?!? you asked RENE if dino's car was good????? so yeah thumbs up to rene for being a funny dude 😁

sacha fouquet - sorry for including this but he also looked very good irl 😶 alsoooo like when i was hurrying to the f3 feature (i was running very late and wanted to be there for the start), i had to go under this tunnel to get from the paddock to the grandstands?? like a pretty narrow tunnel, only like 2-3 ppl width... and guess tho were heading to the paddock right when i was rushing away? all of the prema performance/race engineers! lovely timing! because they're all so so cool and made me so so so nervous 😭 (and the way i was just having to pretend like i haven't seen them all in 100 vids and even made gifs of them lmao what)

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎

gold star to anyone who made it this far ⭐️ sorry for the random yapping lol and for saying everyone looked better irl but it is true!!!! this isnt proofread so i apologize for any mistakes etc, pls feel free to ask if anyone has any questions... <3<3

[thecontainerstoreofficial]

long post after cut, not a vent just love life update and also a question for those who are better at this than i am….

okok so basically i ran into an acquaintance from college 2 saturdays ago who i always thought was kind of cute if a little out of my league and we always vibed super well in conversation….we mostly saw each other in group settings through a mutual friend. but when we ran into each other randomly he DMed me afterward on instagram and expressed interest in catching up in person!! and then we proceeded to DM for the next week talking abt random geek stuff + work, at some point i gave him my number so we could text instead.

(also for context the few times we’ve hung out in groups i was openly involved with someone or other at the time, but the fact that he’s reaching out individually now makes it feel like he checked my instagram after seeing me and saw that i had removed all of the photos of my ex-boyfriend and then decided to reach out….)

soooo basically last night after us texting for around a week and a half i asked if he wanted to hang out this weekend or next. and he’s suggested sunday dinner. does this have date vibes??? hes been very receptive and he was the one to reach out initially, but since then i’ve been the one making the moves (ie moving us to text versus DM and now me suggesting a concrete timeframe for us to hang irl….)

it all feels kind of datey but honestly ive been in situations before where it FELT datey but i was the one making all the moves and then it turned out the other person wasnt interested and it only felt datey bc of my own efforts. especially since we’re both recent grads so maybe hes lonely and just looking to make friends that are still in the area since some people moved away after graduating?? like its confusing bc dinner feels like a good sign but i also feel like sunday is the least sexy day of the week 🤔

sorry for the boytalk lol im just out of practice and usually its easier understanding the vibe when u meet people off of hinge or whatever bc that means that they inherently are romantically inrterested in u. meeting organically means this extra step to dating where you have to figure out if its even a date at all!!

[callixton]

Ooooh how about 🎭💔🧸🎶 for barba and/or bobby??? Noone gets these guys the way you do.

omg that's such a compliment <3 i will do both of them

barba

🎭(a headcanon about what they lie about) - honestly i would not put it past him to preserve his private life by just making shit up. as he got to know the squad better, it stopped mattering so much, but it's become a bit of a game that only he knows about. it's also usually so innocuous that no one would even bother to check - someone asks him what he's doing this weekend? he's going to that string trio performing at the lincoln center. (he has actually set aside time to read the latest pulp thriller he got from the library while eating too much take out and he is not going to be disturbed.)

💔(an angsty headcanon) - rafael deals with depression and self-hatred frequently, but it rarely/never comes in the form of suicidal ideation, so he dismisses how serious it is. it's why he throws himself into work so wholly; at least if he's helping people, he can justify his existence. it also means he's too busy to have time to think about all of the problems he's ignoring.

🧸(a headcanon about their childhood) - oh there's so much i could say. well i don't think it was Good. but for a shotgun-blast-let's-see-what-we-hit of childhood hcs..... he spent every sunday with his grandmother, and almost all of his happiest memories are around her kitchen table. this is alluded to in october surprise but this kid got in FIGHTS oh my god he could not keep his mouth shut. thank god for eddie or he would have had his shit kicked in so fast. sorry to make this sad too but he dealt with the same problem at home with his dad, and eddie wasn't there to protect him. he read voraciously but almost exclusively in private; he wanted people to know he was smart, but he didn't want to get made fun of. he tried exactly one basketball summer camp before realizing he was too short and scrawny to compete.

🎶(a headcanon about music) - not to let actor bleed influence this too much, but i do think barba probably takes after raúl when it comes to music taste; i think "the music he loves best is the Cuban songs he learned from his grandmother." that said, other artists that i associate with him: frank ocean, bruce springsteen & 80s ballads

bobby

🎭- unfortunately bobby is lying to himself at basically all times as a baseline and therefore incidentally to the people around him. but for something more specific, i think he lies about how quickly he gets drunk. he doesn't like actually giving up control over himself and what he says, but he does like the social justification of being able to relax and open up, so he meets it somewhere in the middle and lets everyone else think he's gone before he actually is. it's pretty rare that his friends see through this, which both suits him fine and makes him lonelier.

💔- oh baby. well. tbh it's kind of hard for me to find a headcanon bc so much of what i consider heartbreaking about his character is very much text. However. i do like to play with the idea of his first encounter with a guy in college going so poorly that it contributes to him shoving his sexuality deep down and the subsequent repression we see in show. which is so sad for him bc he wouldn't have done it if he wasn't questioning right like. it might not have been an answer he liked but even that would have been an answer. and then he is just so completely in his head (and he's not even Into the other guy he just offered) that the whole thing goes terribly and he feels so broken bc if he's not gay then what is Wrong with him that he feels like this. (he does discover, some ten-odd years later, that he doesn't mind sleeping with men as much as he thought, but he's spent such a long time of convincing himself that it's not for him that it takes a Lot of pressure to break through that worldview)

🧸- did not have many friends :( on the one hand he really didn't mind that much bc he was absolutely the sort of kid who enjoyed playing on his own, but on the other hand that isolation of not feeling like there's anyone who understands him set in early. he was set up on lots of playdates by his parents where neither kid wanted to be there. he was an observer and a listener though. sooo much of the personality he presents over the years is drawn from copying the behaviors of people he likes.

🎶- this is such a good question bc his character playlist is So fully music i think about him to, not like. songs i think he would listen to. i don't actually think he seeks out music that often? i think he likes the noise of the city and whatever's playing on the radio; it makes him feel more connected to everything in an indirect way. if i had to choose a band i'm weirdly getting they might be giants. that said if he ever really listened to conan gray or mitski it would be so over for him.

[dcviated]

MUNDAY: GETTING TO KNOW YOU

Respond to the following prompts out of character, then tag others you'd like to get to know a little bit better!

ROLEPLAYER NAME: bear! or will, I don't mind being referred to by my real name but even my wife calls me bear most of the time, so-

ROLEPLAYER PRONOUNS: he/him

MUSE NAME: I feel the mainstays will always be Wylan, Raguna, and Eira. But many many others-

PREFERRED COMMUNICATION: As needed. I'm low maintenance while still considering us 'in contact'. But I do love getting sent random bits as relevant and commentary on threads. I can be short or slow on replies at times though. Discord all the way over tumblr IM.

EXPERIENCE: Back when I was 15 or 16 on forums. I did some avatar games that had roleplay baked into it as well that were good. Did a lot of RP in warcraft back during BC to WOTLK, but could not get into it in FFXIV. Tumblr has been my favorite place to write, by far. I love getting into longer form. On that note-

PREFERRED ROLEPLAY TYPE: Literate paragraphs! I can't stay bantering in short stuff to save my life. Like a leak I inevitably switch over to having a paragraph. Then two. Maybe three. I'm pretty comfy around the 300-500 word length on my replies. I get intimidated when they get consistently longer and writer's block starts to lay its bricks.

PET PEEVES & DEALBREAKERS: An inability to meet halfway when plotting is brought up. I don't like being waited on like it's my responsibility to come up with a compelling plot that I suspect you'll half-ass reply to. Have some advocation for what you want. Otherwise ... yeah.

Also an overabundance of context-less dash commentary. Particularly connected to their discord happenings. Some blogs feel less 'indie' and more pseudo-group related. And if you're not involved good luck.

PLOTS OR MEMES: I like to think I'm pretty good rolling with the punches! I can do memes, random asks, and memes and ad-libbing a situation out of a few back and forth banters is really amusing. It's also easier than front-loading a ton of plotting that may or may not be realized anyway. Letting events happen off the cuff feels more dynamic and allows more surprises for both writing parties. <:

That said, don't mind plotting whatsoever! So long as the other person actually wants it and isn't going through the motion of it because it's 'what people do'. Also... I hope they're ready for the long game if so? Like they want to let the plot play out and not just making a plot and then jumping to the end of it.

Pre-establish-jutsu is not plotting!!

LONG REPLIES OR SHORT REPLIES: Middle?? Both?? There's a time for everything but like I said before I'm a fan of 300-500 words for my replies. Sometimes I like them shorter, others longer. But we're biasing towards the 'long' given when a lot of what's in vogue as of late.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: Whenever I can put my adhd into proper submission. I like writing at the office (after I have my work for the day handled) because it separates me from the usual distractions but we can only be so strong...

I like writing earlier in the day! I feel like my best work is done in the mornings, after all. And the head is clearer before I've hit lunch. So on weekends where I don't have plans and I can make myself sit down at a keyboard before everyone else is around, that's just great.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES: Like any good oc writer, I pull out little pieces of myself and cram them into other beings to irreversibly corrupt them not unlike a certain villain from a certain manga. People have called me dad in the past... perhaps that fits better than I thought.

tagged by: @triinitas (thank!!) tagging: gosh this one has gone around a few times, steal it if you like!

[zhengzi]

Talk about..... 16: ...the best party you’ve ever been to! and 26: ... things you do when you're sick!

16 Talk about the best party you’ve ever been to.

oh boy best party I've ever been to... a couple comes to mind. I definitely only really experienced a proper party when I started living in Vancouver from 2018-2020, it felt like i was in a college film, especially with the red solo cups since i've only ever seen them in films lol

a few parties coming to mind are my friend's birthday party at her place in like 2019, the parties during the student newspaper annual retreat on a remote island off the coast of BC (also in 2019), and the little parties I'd have with my roommates in 2020

so at my friend's birthday party, a couple of mutual friends were also there, one of them being one of my best friends to this day that I still keep in contact with. it was a little overwhelming so i didn't meet too many new people that night, but i did end up striking an extremely long conversation with someone i knew in passing from the dorm musical production that i actually met the birthday friend through. it really felt like my first proper college party and it was a nice time. i did get way too high towards the end of the night tho since i was both smoking joints and took an edible halfway through, i went back with my best friend and i was so paranoid about not being able to make it back to my place lmao

now for the student newspaper retreat, they had this thing where they would skip class on friday and basically fuck off to a remote island off the coast of BC for the weekend and we all stayed in this one house that was very remote with the nearest grocery store being a car ride away on the island. i was also dealing with a very serious crush on a coworker who was also on this trip at the time, so i was kinda suffering a bit as well. i slept on the couch in the house. anyway, we mostly chilled during the day, but we partied hard at night. now i didn't really drink so i was probably one of the very few people to stay sober (edit: ok i wasn't totally sober, i got high instead lol), while everyone else got really drunk. i played games, we all fucked around, someone did pass out. it definitely felt like i was in a college film. i think the enjoyment i got from this was kinda feeling like an anthropologist just being intrigued by witnessing an actual north american style rager, all of the tropes were there basically

now the little parties with my roommates in 2020 are my actual favourites, im still extremely close friends with one of the roommates to this day and i consider them a platonic soulmate. now the parties were smaller since it was during the pandemic so it was roommates only, but those were the parties that i actually enjoyed myself and didn't feel self-conscious about and didn't feel like an observer. we played board games, video games in the basement, i had a charcuterie board for the first time, we celebrated halloween together, we made apple pie once and my friend taught me how to dance in the kitchen. we'd also get high. these are the parties that i still think about fondly and would never want to forget

26 Talk about things you do when you’re sick.

well when im sick, i usually lay in bed a lot. i'd probably also have a soup or porridge of some kind as well. i also drink a lot of fluids. i don't do much tbh lol other than rest a lot and maybe watch stuff when im not sleeping

[talk about ask game]

[f0point5]

okay first: this smau is AMAZING the level of detail and effort you put in is honestly beyond me but thank you so much🧎

now for the thoughts:

i feel like elliot is just super into this woman he doesn’t know super well (probably partially because he doesn’t know her super well and is just assuming the best, maybe partially bc he likes the idea of her??) and she’s not super into him back and he just wants to force it. like i feel that sometimes you have two people who from the get go are just completely vibing and super into each other and elliot seems like that’s what he wants but usually dating is just getting to know people!! and it seems like maybe he’s wanting something a bit less casual/more rushed than yn, which is fine on both ends (slightly sad for him but also like you’re an adult pls act like it) just makes the process of getting to know each other a little unbalanced. whether they will overcome the imbalance only time (and you) will tell

also, i lowkey feel like max actually does not have a master plan? like his strat is just race the best i can w the car i have and the car he has currently is yn as a friend/roommate so he just wants to have the best relationship w her in that way. i think in contrast to elliot, he knows yn inside and out and most likely is aware of her deep seated fear of commitment/(unhappy) marriage and doesn’t feel the need to push her into something she is not ready for. that’s also why i think he’s dating around/on raya bc realistically he prob “knows” (knows in quotes bc it’s his interpretation even though it might not be objectively true) that yn might never be ready for a relationship or to get married and he doesn’t want to put their friendship at risk or do anything to push yn away, even if he does have feelings (which also he might not be super aware of? idk what your thoughts are but i think perhaps max just really really cares for her and is focused on what he does have and not what he could have so he’s not thinking ab whether or not he has romantic feelings for her?)

some ppl also commenting on yn’s social media presence and how elliot has to be seeing that stuff and yeah sure but i mean if she thinks it’s like a casual dating thing then it’s nbd if she posts what she posts, it’s not like they’re married/bf gf or even hooking up they’re literally just getting to know each other. i also think prob max meeting elliot is a big deal but also kinda normal?? like obviously as the audience we know it will most likely be a shit show but it also from her perspective it seems like not a massive deal judging from what we’ve seen of her. like if she were to change her entire race weekend to babysit elliot and make the weekend about him then yeah maybe that’s a huge deal but she has already shown she’s unwilling to change hotels so she prob views it as her having a normal weekend w an added person and doesn’t plan on making any huge moves to cater to elliot. i also think it’s less of a big deal bc of how much money he has and just a completely different lifestyle so it���s not as huge of an undertaking. idk though!! you are of course the mastermind so i might be wayyy off (also sorry i just realized how long this was oml)

I think you described it so well about Y/N and Elliot. I know it looks one sided because we see so much of her life and how Elliot is on the fringes but we do only see half the story. And really, this is so normal when you’re seeing someone, being in different places or catching feelings at different rates. Sometimes you get on the same path and sometimes you don’t. No harm no foul. Y/N doesn’t really have the experience of instant click. She doesn’t really date long term, she hasn’t dated at all in nearly 2 years. And even then, she clearly hasn’t had that instant connection, nor is she necessarily looking for it. She’s not writing Elliot off but she definitely hasn’t been swept off her feet. And some people never are. Doesn’t mean the relationship isn’t valid.

I mean…Max isn’t really a master plan sort of guy. He can have a plan but I feel like he’s not a mastermind lol. I also feel like I’m this case Max knows what he wants, or he has this vague idea of what his blue sky scenario looks like, but for a variety of reasons he’s not necessarily moving towards it.

I can’t say too much about what Austin will bring…

Re the social media, I agree. They’re not a whole married couple, and even if they were, I feel like Y/N is just continuing to live her life the way she always has, Elliot or no Elliot, which is what she would do at any stage of their relationship. I don’t think whether Elliot sees the things she posts is of concern to her. Other people’s posts…different story

[goth-oatmilk-latte]

is there a story behind meeting new Mr oatmilk that you want to share w the class?<3 (ps he sounds like a well deserved upgrade)

sure!! so btw he took the photos of me at the cemetery/my current pfp!!

him and i have actually known each other for probably like 6 years or so. when we first met, he was married and we didnt really talk we just had a lot of mutual friends bc we like the same music and go to a lot of the same shows and we would just see each other in passing. he ended up telling me he was intrigued by me bc i had done a photoshoot and my pfp when we met was me holding a butcher knife in a wednesday addams outfit, and he said he knew i had to be an interesting person from that alone. he is quite shy though. we would also see each other places but never really said more than hi to one another. he got divorced in 2020, we talked a little then, but not really. then he dated his now most current ex, more or less bc she basically cornered him into a relationship while he was just getting over his divorce and homegirl needed a place to stay. hes told me he regrets it and said he literally should have kept trying with me bc being shy with me would have been a hell of a lot better than how things worked out for the 2.5 years of abuse she put him through. (his words)

last year we started talking a lot bc he was posting a lot of concerning stuff to his insta private story and so i kind of talked him thru his abusive relationship he was currently in and he mentioned he really needed a close friend. we ended up becoming gym partners for a bit before both our now exs went batshit over it and our friendship as a whole. and we stopped talking for a bit...and then we would talk a little here and there. and we both mutually agreed we were both in shit relationships.

around may, he texted me and told me him and his ex finally broke it off after months of him trying (long story) but he still wanted to at least be my friend again bc he missed me a lot. and i told him i was also dealing with more or less trying to leave my fiance. this is actually around the time i found the flashdrive full of nudes from other women ex mr oatmilk was keeping from me. and i finally left mr oatmilk after he tried to go thru my phone while i was in the shower, which prompted an argument about why it didnt matter who i was friends with bc he couldnt stop entertaining other women and i even pulled out the flashdrive and was like yeah im done.

so me and new mr oatmilk started hanging out more. he would go on walks with me after work. or we would go back to being gym buddies. or we would grab dinner. go to a bookstore. i helped him pick out stuff for his new apartment.

i asked him if he wanted to go see the cure with me at the end of last month and he surprised me by paying for a 2 night hotel stay for us instead of us just driving 2 hrs. and thats also when we went to the cemetery to walk around bc he knew id like it. thats pretty much when we decided we were actually an item.

i helped him move into a new apartment last weekend. and tonight im surprising him with making him dinner. ive pretty much stayed over since he moved in, which is funny bc he got a smaller bed than he would normally get bc he originally told me he didnt wanna feel lonely since it's just him...but he has only spent like one night alone since living there lol.

whats really fucked up tho is his ex is always trying to instigate with me...from doxing me in a bar bathroom, to literally driving by his new place to see if i am there. and shes friends with my ex now too. she's harassed me via text and social media, too. but it's fine, i dont usually engage. which pisses her off.

him and i are happy 🥰 hes honestly lovely.

[wolftracked]

@mysteryxsolved; weekend sleepover bc we can

elias couldn't recall the last time he'd felt this excited about getting out of his usual surroundings. not that he was going to go far from his apartment. he hardly ever broke routine - in fact, he only did for one other person since coming to new haven, so this was also almost a first. then again, he'd never have a sleepover, so maybe it was indeed a first for him. he'd packed & said his goodbyes for the weekend - praying that the extra phone he carried around with him at all times rested for the weekend so he didn't have to go into work, when all he wanted to do was relax.

he rarely ever took days off, had always enjoyed working, keeping himself busy & as productive a member of society as he possibly could, but he'd earned himself a vacation, he thought. meeting wyatt had truly been a blessing. the first person in new haven he felt connected to on a more personal level. friends. definitely, friends. they both shared a multitude of interests, especially those elias knew didn't occur in many others, least of all in a small town like this.

elias was the one intruding, so he'd made sure to bring snacks, soda - oh yeah, he was going to sin this weekend. when the door opened for him, he shot the other the widest smile - one that showed teeth & wrinkled the corners of his eyes. "hey, hope you told work nobody's allowed to die this weekend. i've brought snacks for days."

[lotsofplanetshaveadeathstar]

Changes...

It's been a minute, and, in a bit of a plot twist, I'm not here bc it's been a Rough Day™ (I haven't had one of those in a bit, knocking on all the wood that I didn't just jinx that). Instead, I'm here to muse about *changes*, but not in the normal sense, I guess?

So I do A LOT of things by myself. Straight facts, no bias. There's really no other option when you're single and most of your friends are living elsewhere and/or in relationships and/or also do shift work that makes their schedules weird and somewhat unpredictable and may also be somewhat age incompatible for hanging out. That's not the issue here. I actually encourage everyone to do things on their own bc it's such a great way for you to learn about yourself and grow and be comfortable with yourself. I can remember the first time I went out to eat by myself (bc the place didn't have online ordering or to-go options), and it was weird for a little bit, but it went away pretty fast and I got real comfortable doing a lot more things on my own - movies, theme parks, etc. There are so many benefits to doing these things on your own, although you could argue that they could mostly be boiled down to various flavors of freedom, but still. I'm usually okay with this situation bc I enjoy the freedom to make whatever choices I want and do things exactly how I want to do them.

The other night, I was doing a solo night at HHN with the goal of hitting each house twice (I ALMOST made it too, but there were more people than normal bc of Hurricane Milton and I decided to eat at the Leaky Cauldron instead of from a food booth, so I missed it by one run, but it was Insidious, so I'm not that upset), a plan which really only works if you're by yourself bc that's a looooong night (I did over 10 miles) and a metric buttload of standing in lines (I got through so many episodes of my podcast, it was great), and I also don't really do things like bathroom breaks, so... All this to say that this particular event is something that works for how I usually do things by myself (when we go in a week with my sister for her one trip, this is absolutely not how I will be approaching the night, just for clarity), and I definitely got some sense of satisfaction for keeping going until the end of the night and basically hitting my goal (again, Insidious and I are not besties).

However...

I was in line for... I wanna say Triplets of Terror? I'd gotten my one allowed drink of the night (Soured Sunshine, an absolute gem of a bourbon drink that I wanna try making with orange liqueur instead of orange Fanta), which I usually try to get before getting in line for Insidious bc that house is so much more manageable with a slight buzz than straight sober, but I had deviated from my projected lineup earlier in the night when Insidious was posted lower than the three other houses I hadn't done yet and I knew I should jump on it then which left me literally no time to go all the way across the park to get my drink and come back.

So I'm standing in this line by myself, sipping my drink, and idk what it was exactly but the drink hit differently than the other times I've had it, and I started getting Emotional™.

I have friends who are coming down for a visit this weekend into early next week with their baby for their first trip down here since before the baby was born, and we're planning to meet up at some point during their stay. I really cherish these guys, and I'm genuinely excited to see them and meet their baby, like I want to try to get a haircut before they get here (I would've had one already if not for Milton messing everything up) and I want to make sure I'm dressed well bc of that one meme of the guy who dressed in a suit to meet his baby niece in the hospital bc "first impressions matter", and all of a sudden, I'm tearing up in line, and I'm thinking "if anybody notices me rn they're gonna think I'm scared of going in this house by myself", which is both untrue and also would never happen bc everyone around me was part of a group.

Immediately after this, I get hit with this massive wave of feelings that boil down to "I want to be with someone", in every way that statement can be interpreted.

All around me are groups of people playing the Official Pastime of HHN Lines, Heads Up, they're talking, laughing, standing around on their phones but still obviously in a group. This part doesn't needle me as much, as I've done HHN several times this year and in the past with other people, and it's got its ups and downs for sure. But the group in front of me was made up of three couples, and it was like a switch flipped between my brain and my heart and all of a sudden, I was filled with a deep well of longing for something I've yet to have - a person.

At that moment, all I wanted was someone to be there with me, to hold my hand, to lean on, to talk to about absolutely nothing, to kiss me.

I've had what could be termed as a long-ass dry spell, and I'll be very honest that it's 95% self-inflicted. I very rarely find myself wanting to kiss someone else, and if I do, it's more a passing thought that sort of wafts into my head and dissipates nearly as quickly. But then, in that line...

I should add that the last time I had these kinds of urges, it was after several tequila lemons at my friends' wedding (I'm not to be trusted in New York with substances of any kind around guys who show the slightest interest in me...). So maybe it was connected to the fact that I'd been texting with my friend before all this went down. But still, I was standing in line and thinking that if a guy, for whatever insane reason, decided to talk to me and made any kind of hint, that I'd be echoing Chappell Roan (in a PG-13 max kind of way).

Obviously, and probably thankfully, this did not happen. A man did talk to me in a line later, but it was several hours after these feelings had left and he felt a little too old for anything but a short chat on if I had done Major Sweets before (yes), if it was scary (no), and what the best houses were (I panicked and said either Major Sweets or Slaughter Sinema 2, but for me it's honestly anything that's not Insidious, AQP, or Monsters (sry bby, you're just not that great this year)).

I've had times before where I want to be with someone, but they're usually fairly short-lived. I'm not in a place where I feel like I can start any kind of meaningful romantic relationship, and I'll admit that most of the reasons are me-problems - I'm not where I thought I'd be, I still work an hourly job at a theme park, I'm an older second-degree seeking student, I live at home still (mostly no ragrets on that one though, no rent is so sweet). But having entered a new decade of age this year, I think my usual attitude and thought processes are entering a new era of their own. I know that I'm not old, but I'm not super young anymore either. Time is moving forward, and things won't stay put just because I may not feel or think I'm ready for them yet.

While under that tipsy feeling, I decided to text my friend and tell her basically exactly what was happening (the bare bones of it, that I was so excited to see them and meet the baby that it was making me almost cry, not the other stuff), and I don't regret that for a second, because her response was heartwarming and it's giving me a lot to look forward to later this week.

I'm hoping that sometime soon I'll be standing in a line for a house with someone who wants to be there with me as much as I want to be there with them, and that maybe they'll hold my hand (if it's not too hot and humid) in line and walk behind me through the house and maybe hold my shoulders until we're out the other side and talk and laugh and whatever else may happen. It's very much not likely to happen, but the power of dreams isn't just that they give you something to hope for, it's that they have the staying power to keep you hoping, and hopefully moving, to make them real.

And if it takes more than a couple years for this to happen, that's okay. If it doesn't happen, for any and whatever reason, that's okay too. Even if it's hard to understand emotionally sometimes, I really do know that we're all on our own paths and mine is taking me where I need to go. It's just taking the scenic, very curvy and non-direct way possible, but that just gives me more time to enjoy the view.

[evanstanwhore]

disappear

pairing: sebastian stan x evans!actress!reader

summary: you’ve walked red carpets ever since you were a child but that doesn’t mean you like them. you always have sebastian to calm your nerves

warnings: use of y/n, self harm scars, mental health struggles, reader getting overwhelmed and anxious, slight age gap (seb is 39, reader is 27)

wc: 1.2k

a/n: im making this pairing into a series of oneshots bc i acc love them sm

my other evans! actress! one shot… yet to become a mini series

You hadn't changed... well not that much anyway. You were still the same Y/n Evans everyone knew 2 years ago before you made your decision to take yourself away from social media and your career. It was affecting you too much and not in a good way. Everything you were reading and hearing about yourself was breaking you down. It happened slowly. No one noticed at first. It was only when you didn't make appearances at events, on red carpets and cried, panicked and refused to leave the house knowing someone with something to say was waiting somewhere to take a photo of you.

There was always someone waiting. That scared you. It always had. When it all started you were only a child. You walked red carpets, clinging onto Chris. If he didn't have one, you were always his date. Your brother always treated you like a princess. He was is your hero. Then you walked carpets at premieres of your own. You quickly became very well known. People shouting from all different directions for you to look at them, for you to smile. You would never forget the first time it all became too much. At 10 years old you stood frozen, teary-eyed as people screamed at you to look somewhere and smile. Chris was with you. He took your hand and turned you away from everyone as he led you away. At 16, Chris treated you to a day of shopping. That was the day he protected you from a group of overbearing paparazzi. He pulled you close to him and shouted at them to back off as he pulled you away. You were panicking. The first major panic attack you remember having.

He worried when you moved to LA. You reassured him there was nothing to worry about and that you were only a phone call away. You knew why he worried. To be honest you worried too but you refused to let any of your family see that. You reminded them you were 22 and fine to be on your own. How wrong you were.

It wasn't long before Chris was there to see you. It had only been 3 months. He was in LA for Jimmy Fallon after the Civil War release. That was the first time you met Sebastian. Usually meeting one of Chris's friends made you nervous but the moment Sebastian looked at you and smiled, all your nerves slipped away. You were calm around him. Of course, Chris noticed and a few days later told Seb how at ease you were around him which was completely unlike you. It had always taken you a while to warm up to people and come out of your shell.

He messaged you that night

imsebastianstan wants to send you a message

It was good meeting you the other day

We should do it again

Yeah, it was good meeting you too

I'm free this Saturday if you are

You messaged all the time, met up for coffee whenever you both had the time. He always made sure he had time for you. If he was away he'd fly back to LA for a weekend so he could spend time with you. He spent time with you and Chris when their weekend visits matched up. That happened for almost 2 years until he finally asked you out. You were surprised when he told you it was Chris who told him to just do it.

You started to tell him more... more than you'd tell Chris. You cried when you told him about your history of self-harm and mental health and how it started after you moved away. He kissed your scars. "You're beautiful," He said against your wrists and thighs as he kissed every scar, every mark. He promised to do his best to protect you just how Chris used to. He promised to make you feel safe, loved and like the most special person on the planet.

Of course, he kept his promises. Sebastian kept his promises even when things started to get bad again. People waiting everywhere to take photos of you. It got especially bad after news of your and Sebastian's one year anniversary and him moving in with you. Everyone wanted a photo of the two of you. You refused to leave the house. You cried every time you had to. You dreaded getting out of bed, knowing you had to leave the house and go to work or run errands. You had enough when articles started popping up everywhere. Old and new ones. Criticizing ones and annoyingly positive ones.

Y/n Evans (25), the voice of Disney's Rapunzel and younger sister of actor Chris Evans, dating actor Sebastian Stan (37)

That particular article got to you. It compared you to everyone else he dated. It criticized your age and how you're just over a decade younger than him. You'd never thought about it nor did it bother you until now. It talked about how you were most likely only with him for his money and his name. "Don't listen to anything they're saying. You know none of it's true. You know I love you more than I've loved anyone else" Sebastian told you that night when he got home. You were crying. He wiped your tears and held you on the living room floor until you fell asleep.

The next event you attended ended up being your last for many reasons. It was the first you'd attended with Seb. That article was brought up more than once. The one that praised him but degraded you. Sebastian was keeping his promise of protecting you, standing up for you and calling anyone out if they said something. You went home, deleted all social media and disappeared.

"I really don't want to, Sebastian" You sighed as you stood in front of the mirror in your dress. The first time in 2 years you'd worn something so expensive. "I said baby steps. Being invited and going to the Oscars seems like a pretty big step. A step I'm definitely not ready for" Sebastian smiled at you through the mirror as his arms snaked around your waist, hands resting over the bump that was your daughter.

"Well, I change my mind. This isn't just me reappearing after 2 years, it's also a pregnancy announcement. People are going to say things. I'm not ready. What if I just give up my career and be a stay at home mom? That seems fun"

“You don’t want that and you know it. You miss this”

“Miss red carpets and events? Nope, I still hate them”

“I meant acting. You miss acting. You miss playing a character”

"You know me too well" You smile, pushing his hands away as you move across the room for your shoes. "36 weeks pregnant and wearing heels doesn't seem like a good idea..." You sigh, attempting to bend down to pick them up but failing miserably, your bump too big now to do simple things on your own. Sebastian laughs when you turn to him with an annoyed sigh.

You gripped his hand tighter as you felt your anxiety rise. The screams of your name were already becoming too much. Thoughts of giving up and disappearing again entered your mind but you pushed them back. You missed this. Not the events and red carpets but the acting. You missed the feeling that came with it. You missed spending time with people like you. People who did the same things as you. People who could relate.

"You okay?" Sebastian asked quietly, squeezing your hand. You turned to him with a smile and nodded. "I'm good. It's okay" You reassured truthfully. "My feet hurt... heels were a bad idea" He laughed and smiled down at you. You were fine.

[folkloreguk]

💌🧸 Brother's Best Friend

A/N: Got this request a while ago and now I'm wondering why I've never written this trope before bc this was so fun??? Lmk how you liked it! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, size/strength kink??, choking, dom!bias (it’s kinda playful tho), brother's best friend!au, sneaking around, play fighting, lowkey getting caught but not directly?

words: ~ 4.1 k

disclaimer: I don’t mean for the age gap to be gigantic…I’m talking about anything from 1-2 years maximum tbh!!! Anything else would be weird and I’m not about that! They’re also both obviously consenting adults!

[H/N means 'his (bias) name']

In youreyes, your first meeting had been a disaster. The new spider man movie had been released only days ago, and you were adamant on seeing it. And to your luck, your older brother and his best friend had already made plans to watch it together. As a little sister, you were treated like the baby of the family, and it didn’t matter that you were far from being an infant anymore. So naturally, your brother had been condemned by your parents to bring you along. He declared his distaste in your presence by attempting to ignore you, but you were used to that. Just like you were aware of his bad moods, you knew he could change within minutes and magically turn into the sweetest, most caring big brother you could wish for.

Whatever. You didn’t need his approval to enjoy the trip to the movie theater, you told yourself. Had it not been for his best friend, who you hadn’t seen in ages. H/N and you had never properly spoken before, and the last time you saw him he had been an awkward, prepubescent boy who had appeared at your door to pick up your brother for a playdate. There was no trace of immaturity now. Instead, it was you who had morphed into an awkward, shy mess at the sight of him.

His ‘hello’ had a warm and deep melody to it which swooped you up in his aura so suddenly, you had no time to prepare. Had his smile always been this stupidly charming? Hell, it was so bright, you had to meticulously inspect the ground every time he sent a grin your way. When before you hadn’t felt guilty for being a bother, you now sure did. What impression would you leave, trailing behind the older boys like a lost puppy? What would he take you for? The annoying little sister who didn’t have friends of her own? The mood-killer, who wouldn’t understand any of the boys’ inside jokes? The anti-social, weird girl who was obsessed with fictional men, like people loved to belittle teenage girls with normal interests?

As things turned out, his initial opinion of you was quite the opposite. If only you could have spied into his brain, it would have saved you a landslide of worry. Although your brother took up all of H/N’s attention before the movie started, he noticed you a good amount. To be precise, you blew him away at first sight. Your cute laugh won him over in a matter of seconds and he liked that your merch sweater could have been stolen straight out of his own closet. He didn’t want to feel too smug, but the way you diverted your eyes away from him whenever he looked in your direction only boosted his confidence further.

Your brother might have warned him. Stay away from her. She’s off limits for you. But not a thousand vicious, older brothers could have kept him from trying to get to you. It was up to you, after all, whether you wanted him around or not, and not to your brother. From that day on, H/N didn’t skip out on a chance to see you, even if it meant merely an exchange of a few words, or a simple greeting. And to his luck, you turned out to be equally as enraptured by him.

There was something about the untouchable, the forbidden, that attracted him to you even more. Plus, you were simply too precious to forget about. One morning, you dropped off a beanie at his place, which he had left at your house after meeting with your big brother the previous day. When he had asked if he could drive you to school as a thank you, you happily accepted. You had marked that day as the first day of your new life. First, it was harmless flirting. To be honest, you were under the impression he was merely messing with you. Because you were the cute little sister of his best friend. Because you would turn into an awkward shell of a person who had lost all ability to articulate, and your cheeks would burn as if they were on fire, whenever he charmed you.

But the flirting slowly reached newer levels, and before you knew it you were discussing your sexual fantasies over text messages and giving him bedroom eyes as you opened the front door for him. “H/N’s here!” you would then shout to your big brother. Then you would watch the two boys walk off to your brother’s room, pondering why life had to be this way for you. It wasn’t fair. Siblings were supposed to share, right? Why did you have to wait your turn until after midnight, when no one would notice, to spend time with H/N?

But to H/N, the sneaking around in the middle of the night and the secret messages you sent to each other, it all added to the excitement. Surely, there were days on which he wished he could just break the truth to your brother. The impact it could have on their friendship was enough intimidation for him to refrain, though. Things were better off this way, for now.

Today was no exception to your usual lies. When your brother asked if you would go out with him to do some shopping, you had played the victim and feigned a stomachache. Your parents wouldn’t be home all weekend. You’d have been stupid to waste a perfect opportunity like that. Who knew when you could have H/N in your bed the next time? Normally, you were restricted to his car, or to his bed in the dark of night. Yes, those places had something enticing at first glance. But the backseat of a car was only enjoyable for so many clandestine meetings. So today you notified him of your golden opportunity before your brother had even walked out the door.

The moment H/N texted you that he was outside your home, you opened the front door and dragged him to your room.

“Are you in control today, little one?” he asked, closing the bedroom door after you.

“Why are you asking that?” you replied, not wanting to talk at all but rather do so much more productive things.

“I don’t know…perhaps because you haven’t let me say a word since I came through the door,” he said.

“Right. Maybe I’m planning on tying you up, blindfolding you, and torturing you with ice and wax,” you joked in a casual tone, despite not usually requesting such graphic ideas.

“I don’t know if I’d let you do that,” he grinned with raised eyebrows. “Besides, I know you’d rather be at the receiving end of that. It’s a sweet idea, though. If we had some more time…”

“Think you could get away from me if I tied you up?” you said, but he was towering over you with the calmness of a king who knew he reigned over the situation.

“We both know I’m stronger than you, doll,” he said. You didn’t like it when boys called you weak. But you’d let it slide, knowing he was only joking and would never underestimate you outside of the bedroom. He put his lips right up to yours, so you felt his breath on them. His fingers came up to cup your face, but then slowly inched to your neck. When they closed around your neck, putting the slightest amount of pressure on your skin, you whimpered quietly.

“Need reminding?” he asked. As much pent-up frustration you had, and as much as your stomach was flipping upside down from how badly you needed him, you just had to play with him. You knew it would make for more fun.

“I think- “ you started, with a grin. Then you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed him backwards, until he was stumbling. Although caught off guard, he was quick to pull you along with him as he fell onto your bed. You landed on top of him with a small squeal.

“Go on, let’s see who can throw the other off the bed first,” he teased with a superiority that only spurred you on. Then again, you would always be in the mood for the oldest childhood game you had ever known. Only now it wasn’t your brother, but his best friend you were playing against. It added a layer of excitement, and after only seconds, giggles had overtaken you as you struggled in his grip.

“No tickling is allowed,” you said. He nodded obediently with a smirk that told you he might not abide by your rules.

At first, you had attempted to hold him down by his arms. But your legs tangled, and he pushed his chest up against yours, like he was about to flip you over. Your plan seemed to be working only momentarily. You groaned a little as he grabbed your wrists swiftly and held his stance against your attempt to pull his upper body to the side.

“Cute,” he said. That’s when you realized, he was barely struggling, barely trying, even. While you were giving your most, he smirked like he was watching a kitten trying to fight a lion. It was child’s play to him, keeping you in check. Literally. With an annoying expression of amusement on his face, he let you have the upper hand for a while. Then, as if you had never had an ounce of advantage, he turned it around and pulled you into him. His eyes suggested he might just send you tumbling down onto the floor any moment now. Nonetheless, you weren’t going to give up so easily. Taking your chances, you let go of his arms and moved sideways, so you could have your go at pushing him towards the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t think so,” he said. Suddenly, he bear-hugged your body and rolled you both over. Before you could protest or defend yourself, your arm was dangling off the side of your bed and if you had moved a tiny bit further, you would have slid off the bedsheets and right onto your carpet. It was his turn to straddle you now. As if his actions hadn’t been enough declarations of his strength, he pinned your wrists to the bed above your head and gave you a challenging smirk.

“I was going to let you win, doll. But you weren’t trying hard enough,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”

What were you going to do? He had you completely immobilized. “Just let it go, then. We get it, you’re super strong and super big and the coolest,” you said.

He seemed to take an instant liking to your declaration. “Say it again. This time minus the eye-rolling, sugar.”

“You’re stronger than me,” you said, trying to avoid the laughter that was threatening to come out. Could he read in your gaze how badly you wanted him to kiss you already? If he could, he wasn’t acting on it. Instead, he bent to the crook of your neck and spoke.

“Does it turn you on that I can overpower you?” his breath fanned your ear and you had to close your eyes to control yourself.

“Yes. Because I trust you,” you answered truthfully. The corner of his lips curled into a cocky grin.

“You know what? I think I’d rather you stay in bed with me instead of throwing you on the floor. There’s so many things we can do up here, isn’t that right, little one?” His lips brushed over your cheek and then over your lips as he spoke. The nickname had always made you weak in the knees and he knew it. When he finally enveloped your lips in a kiss, you swore you could feel an electric spark jump between the two of you. The mellowness of it turned into hunger rapidly, and as soon as his tongue flicked over your bottom lip, you whimpered like you hadn’t seen him in a year.

“Needy, are we?” he asked, running his hand up your sides and underneath your shirt. He could say that again. “Let’s get these off, then.”

The seconds in which you pulled off your clothes and couldn’t hang on his lips and feel his skin on your body should have been considered a form of torture in itself. Then, time always went by so much slower than usually.

When you had both shed off your clothes, he climbed back on top of you. Instead of straddling your hips he was now resting between your legs. There was nothing separating you from him, and it was apparent not only through the body heat that radiated off him. He reached down and whilst peppering kisses on your chest, slid his fingers through your slick arousal that was pooling in your core.

“You’re so wet,” he said in surprise, but couldn’t hide his approval and self-confidence in his voice.

“I know,” you said, rolling your eyes but simultaneously fighting the urge to moan at the smallest of touches he was teasing your with. “I’m so horny. Can’t we skip foreplay?”

“Poor doll,” he said. “I should’ve come over earlier, huh?”

“You know that wasn’t possible,” you said. With a desperate look, you pleaded him silently.

“I wanna taste you,” he said, but your put your hand on his cheek softly.

“Maybe later?” you said. “Please, I need to have you inside of me. Now.”

“You’re extra cute when you’re this needy,” he smiled. “Are there still condoms in your nightstand?”

You nodded and had never moved so fast to open a drawer in your life. Pretending to have any patience left, you waited for him to roll on the rubber.

“I love the way you look at me,” he said. “When you’re waiting for me. Could watch you for hours.”

“God, I hope you won’t. Come here, please?” you replied, making him chuckle. He lined himself up with your core, but then made no inclination to move ahead. His dark eyes and little head tilt told you everything.

“Don’t mess with me anymore,” you whined, reaching for the back of his neck to pull him closer. “Do it. H/N.”

“Beg for it.” His words twisted something in the pit of your stomach. Although you were burning with hunger, you could never say no to him. Then again, you were curious to see what would happen if you did.

“What if I don’t? Don’t you want to fuck me as much as I want it?” you challenged him. Something glinted in his eyes, and you knew you shouldn’t have even brought it up.

“I can always do this,” he said, and you followed his eyes down his body and to where he had wrapped his hand around his cock. Slowly, he jerked himself off, and you weren’t sure he was biting his lip because of the feeling or to discompose you. His small sigh should’ve been caused by you. This wasn’t what you had wanted. His tip was right by your slit. He could’ve pushed his length in so easily, and yet he wasn’t. Debating what to say, you kept your eyes trained on his hard member that looked so delicious in his hands. His deep groans rang in your ears. It didn’t take long for you to cave.

“Fuck. That should be me around you,” you said. “That should be my pussy you’re fucking and not your hands. Please.”

“Isn’t that right?” he said.

“Yes. Please, fuck me. I would feel so much better than your hands, and you know it. Please,” you whined. “I need you right now H/N. Please.”

You added another ‘please’ – for good measure – because the way his tongue darted out and licked his smirking lips could make you say anything if it would get him to fuck you.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Think you can take me?”

“Yes, yes-, I can! Please, fuck me,” you said in a waterfall of words, and he chuckled handsomely.

“Good girl,” he said, running a gentle hand over your head. “If it’s too much you let me know.”

“As always.”

The tip of his cock gently pushed into your core, making you hold your breath as he entered you slowly. It caused you to feel every inch with every second. Your brain felt fuzzy, and you sighed gratefully at the relief.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he moaned. The carefulness in his thrusts paired with his moon eyes at you only remained that way for a few seconds. Then, he straightened up and grabbed your hips to drag you in closer. You moaned helplessly when he almost pulled out completely, so slowly it almost made you crazy, only to slam his length into you until his tip brushed against the deepest spot inside of you. It was an action he repeated over and over, until you were reduced to a puddle of desperate whimpers, and you clasped the bedsheets in your hands tightly.

“You like it this way, little one?” he asked. He was apparently finding enjoyment in your reaction. How you could barely keep your eyes open, and when you did, your eyeballs threatened to roll to the back of your head. How your fingers clenched around the closest plushie, and you cradled it against your chest in bliss.

“Yes- fuck,” you said. “Feels so good.”

Of course, right as you said this, he had to change things up. His thrusts turned lazy and messy as he leaned backwards slightly. With an equally lazy demeanor, his thumb flicked over your clit, rubbing circles on it.

“Let me hear you. Say my name,” he said, and you quietly moaned his name. You adored the way it sounded, voiced like this, with barely more than a breath underneath your soft tone. Now and then, his cock slipped out of you, making you clench around nothing and furthermore had you going completely out of your mind. When he would push himself into your opening again, it felt as if it was the first time he was entering you today. Except you felt it repeatedly, each time as incredible as the previous. Your mouth hung open, rendered speechless except for the little moans and whimpers sounding from your throat. There was a familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach, tying firmer with each passing minute.

As if he could read your mind, he decided then he was done with his sweet torture of teasing you to an orgasm. You couldn’t be mad at him, though, because what he had planned was just as perfect, if not better. His hands wandered to their original place on your sides, and he began to snap his hips into yours at a faster pace. A small cry of surprise left your lips, while he only smirked at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Impulsively, you lifted your legs a little, intensifying the feeling of his member roughly dragging through your velvet walls.

“H/N, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

“Me too,” he replied, not slowing down for a second.

His broad frame towering over your body was a sight you would never get enough of and his gazes at you were hot enough that they could have stopped your heart in its tracks. A few strands of hair stuck to his forehead and there was a thin sheet of sweat on his neck. It all just made him more breathtaking to you. The slight pain from his nails digging into the skin on your waist was staggering, and you could barely wait to see the masterpiece of marks he would leave tonight.

You were a moaning mess, flying on cloud nine and simultaneously overwhelmed by his treatment of you. It clouded your mind at took over your whole body like you were made for him to fuck you. His length filled up your tight hole and he did it with such force that your whole body rocked into your mattress in a steady, fast-paced rhythm. He let go of your waist then and supported himself on his arm by the side of your head. When his other hand went to your neck you shuddered in anticipation.

“You should see yourself with my hand around your throat,” he said. “So pretty, little one.”

“We can do it in front of a mirror sometime- ,” you suggested, but were cut off at the end of the sentence as his fingers tightened on your neck. Instantly, the effect of it hit you. The lack of oxygen made your head swim in a sea of pleasure and the unrelenting desire to come. Through fluttering eyelids, you peeked up at him. The way he licked his lips and then clenched his jaw, the gorgeous shape of his collarbones and shoulders – you sometimes wondered if he was even real. Every so often he loosened his grip on you. When he did, you took gulps of air and then instantly whined for him to choke you again.

“Let go for me,” he said. “Show me your pretty face when I make you come. I’m fucking you well, aren’t I?”

You nodded as well as you could when he was gripping your throat and you couldn’t breathe properly at the moment. It didn’t matter you couldn’t talk. He was probably not expecting you to answer, either way. In a pleasure-induced trance, you closed your eyes and let it happen, like he had asked it from you. Your hazy consciousness barely registered that he was reaching his high with you. Too overcome were you, with your thighs trembling uncontrollably and your back arching off the mattress. He had let go of your neck and was riding out his own orgasm with sloppy thrusts that only sent you into another frenzy and had you whimpering his name softly. When he had finished too, he slowed down and pulled you into a gentle kiss, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly.

“That was amazing,” he said, and with a blissful hum you nodded. Your lips changed into a pout when he rolled off you and got up. You were tired of sending him back home so quickly. As he discarded the condom in the bin, you put on your most enchanting eyes, so he would have no other choice.

“Stay a little longer, please,” you asked. You knew he wanted to, as well. So although he was aware that your brother could return at any moment, he tumbled back into bed with you.

“Just for a little while,” he said. “Mhm…you’re so perfect to cuddle, baby.” His embrace was warm and his scent comforting, as he hummed a lovely melody. The soft touch of his fingers running through your hair lulled you right into a light sleep. You were awoken rather abruptly, and with half a heart attack.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen my charger- “ your brother’s voice suddenly broke through the silence and you wondered if you would have to pack up and leave the country after this sort of embarrassment.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you said, knowing well enough it was the dumbest thing you could have said. But who could blame you? You had only woken up two seconds ago.

“Really?” your brother asked. “Because I hear H/N sneak into our house so often lately, I’m starting to wonder if his parents threw him out.”

His tone was surprisingly calm.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you,” H/N said to your brother. “I thought you’d hate me and that we’d be over as friends.”

“I know I told you once to leave Y/N alone. But now…I guess it’s cool. She’s been in a great mood lately, and if that’s thanks to you, I think I can approve of you two. Although I’m not looking forward to being a third wheel, I think I can get used to it if I try hard enough,” your brother said. You couldn’t believe your ears, and involuntarily smiled like a fool. No more hiding. No more secrets.

“I stole your charger. I’m sorry,” you said then, making your brother roll his eyes. “It’s by the sofa in the living room.”

“Great. I needed a reason to leave anyway,” your brother said. “I might approve of you, but this situation is still too awkward. I’ll see you tomorrow, then, H/N?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the boy in your bed said.

“You’ll see me too!” you added as a joke, as your brother already walked away from the door.

“Unfortunately I will!” your brother shouted, with the unnerving tone only a big brother could possibly muster.

[xamaxenta]

Tell us a bit about the Whitebeard commanders. What do they do for a living?

Wowoo lets go !! I love the wbp so much

Jozu: owns a trading company with Haruta who’s more of the salesperson than anything he just does all the transportation and stuff, his pokemon are Tauros and Two Machamp

Thatch: owner of a small bakery company that got so popular he had to open several branches across the Grandline to meet the growing demand, he often swings through all of them to ensure they’re meeting his standards n stuff, his main shop is in Sphinx tho, bc he can’t leave Pops without fresh croissants!! His Pokémon are Fidough (ee new pokemon!) and Dartrix

Vista: fashion designer, usually has his brothers and sisters model the clothes he designs, well decorated in the field for providing unique and flattering bespoke fashion for all body types, his pokemon are Gardevoir, Gallade and Kirlia (yeah. Haha) he’s absolutely enamoured with Ace’s proportions though and Ace really does not want to be alone in a room with vista just because he won’t be able to say no to him asking for a moment of his time to model some things (last time he said yes he was occupied for a whole weekend LMAO sorry Ace, Vista got INSPIRED hard)

Blamenco: physics professor, specifically interested in the Ultra Beasts phenomenon and worme hole pocket dimesions, has published several papers on the subject and his prized Pokemon is indeed an ultra beast, the highly dangerous Guzzlord, as such he’s under strict monitoring to ensure he doesn’t let it go on a rampage, his other pokemon are: Granbull, Mr Mime and Goliscopod, he lovingly calls these three his Guzzlord insurance policy haha (because theyre all super effective type countersagainst Guzzlord)

Rakuyo: game show host and popular radio host of an opinion based channel that talks about news and reacts to it etc ( the reason Izo keeps getting invites to do tv appearances ZBDBD) his pokemon are Elekid and Braixen (theyre both game show pokemon mascots!)

Namur: handyman, jack of all trades he’s always on the move and can’t settle down, Marco’s a little worried about Namur because every time he calls/chats with him, Namurs gone and got fired or has a new job but it doesn’t seem to bother him because he says all of it is experience gained anyway, his pokemon: Whiscash, Quagsire and Wobbuffet

Blenheim: pokemon police force, originally was part of his home island’s military but then he left and instead drafted into law enforcement, his pokemon are Arcanine and Golbat

Curiel: pokemon ranger, he’s always wanted to be one since he was a kid, because he was rescued by one when he got separated from his parents (later confirmed deceased F curiel…) in a national park that had flash floods, his pokemon are Swampert, Pidgeot and Golem

Kingdew: prowrestler, famous just like Izo and often has to comment on Izo’s latest contest win and vice versa and Kingdew shrugs like you’re asking the wrong guy, Izo’s pretty but is he gorgeous like me? No, we are not the same (he means it in a joking way haha Izo indulges him like oh Kingdew? He’s too fabulous for little old me and all the press are like ???????? Huh???), his pokemon are Hariyama, Incineroar and Hawlucha

Haruta: co-owner of a trading company with Jozu, the sales and spokesperson, they mostly deal in mineral goods, his pokemon are Bisharp and Sir fetche’d

Atmos: currently unemployed, he stays with Pops to keep him company, but has recently found out he’s got quite the green thumb, and is apparently really good at trimming hedges into decorative art pieces, he’s looking to take gardening gigs soon, his pokemon are Bellossom, Sunflora and Shroomish

Speed Jiru: a bodyguard, currently employed by Izo who hired his brother due to two things: Jiru won’t judge him for his reasoning to hire a bodyguard and because Izo prefers if it was family anyway, his pokemon are Aggron, Ferrothorn, Drapion, Stuntank and Sharpedo, he’s one of the only WBP siblings to have as many Pokémon as Marco, he’s second in battling prowress to him and should Marco ever resign his elite four seat, the next in line would be Jiru unless he declines

Fossa: fisherman, it started as a hobby and now its a real thing for him, he’s good at rearing water pokemon and currently farms Chinchou, Magikarp, Goldeen and Clampearls, he has a Poppilo friend that visits (begs for scraps) his only Pokemon is a Volbeat

Izo: fashion blogger, popular pokemon coordinator, well known for his beauty tips and how to train your Pokémon to become top tier beauty contestants, often appears on game shows for local celebrities, his Pokémon are Oricorico (blue one) and Froslass (aesthetic matches his)

[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part