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lustresky · 4 years

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kahit ‘di mo alam [james ‘bucky’ barnes x f!filipina!reader]

summary: After an emotionally taxing mission, you and Bucky share some stories— and maybe also some leche flan along the way.

wc: 5200ish. (might have went to town on this one.. haha woops)

themes: angst (i need to chill tf out i’m sorry:’’/), some fluff ig, happy but kind of ambiguous ending (mayhaps a sequel....), mention of ptsd/trauma, hydra being shitty, bucky trying his best to comfort reader (this is my first time writing him so sorry if he’s kinda ooc..), filipina!reader, also kinda cliché idk

a/n: psa, i do not know how to bake. all i am is your typical filipina girl who has a soft spot for bucky and also thinks that there needs to be more poc centered readers. that is all<3 thanks to @ panlasang pinoy for da leche flan recipe lmao. also! title is a song by december avenue, which i think fits this story. check it out if you want!:]

requests are open! & pls don’t forget to like and reblog, thank you! c:

You hum quietly to yourself, beating the yolks with a silver balloon whisk that Tony had.

Out of all the things that you would never have thought Tony would own when you first joined the team, a full on expensive ass baking set was on the top of the list. Hell, you don’t even think that he’s ever opened the oven door before; but then again, the guy’s loaded, so maybe it wasn’t really a smart idea to wonder what he did or did not own.

Whatever— you thought to yourself. Pondering about what the billionaire did with his money wasn’t really what you should be focusing on right now, anyways.

You continue with the repetitive motion of your hand, stopping once the eggs were smooth. Gradually, you add the condensed milk, followed by the regular milk and then finally, a few teaspoons of vanilla extract. You mix the concoction once more, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you focus on the task at hand.

You didn’t hear the gradual shuffling of feet into the kitchen, nor the opening and closing of the refrigerator door; and so you were startled out of your concentration when Bucky Barnes himself ended up in front of you, a bowl of oatmeal in his hands as he positions himself properly on the island chair.

He doesn’t greet you— and honestly, you weren’t expecting him to anyways. You two were never really close; acquaintances at best, with how high both of your walls were built.

You really only knew Bucky from what Steve had shared. You knew that he was part of the Howling Commandos, that he’s Steve’s life long best friend, that HYDRA had brainwashed him and used him against his own will...

Even just thinking about that acronym still makes bile rise up in your throat.

HYDRA had also imprisoned you, beat you, used your body for their own gain. Your stories were similar. Two unwilling and unlucky humans— taken against their own volition, experimented on like a pack of mouse labs, memory and history wiped out to store target information…

You take a breath, trying to steady yourself.

Baking had been the only thing that you remembered from your past. As much as HYDRA tried to erase your history, the memory of your lola’s kitchen came back time and time again, relentless and the only sense of soundness that you found yourself with. The cartons of eggs, the measuring cups, the light dusting of flour all over the table, the rays of the hot afternoon sun peeking through the curtains, the smell of the freshly baked pandesal wafting through the air…

It was comforting, sometimes it was the sole thing that made you calm down. The only pleasant memory that you had left of the simple life that you barely remembered, but greatly missed and longed for.

Hence, before you knew it, you were in the spacious kitchen of the compound; making leche flan to calm your nerves and trying your best to forget what had just happened a few hours ago.

The mission had ended with the team’s victory, sure, but you don’t think that you’ll ever forget the image that had seared itself in your mind. You desperately wanted to forget the sight of Bucky, vulnerable as he lay on the ground with his metal arm torn off of his body, right before an enhanced individual gave him a powerful blow square on his abdomen.

Blood had spluttered out of his mouth, red, bright, coating the brick walls that you were both enclosed in. The mission should’ve been simple: break in, grab the information needed, and then bring said information back. There should’ve only been a few guards. It should’ve been a quick mission— but the sight of Bucky being plummeted with no remorse brought you back memories. Memories that you had tried so desperately to forget.

You bite your bottom lip harder, unintentionally gripping the bowl and whisk in your hands tighter as your arm mixes faster— faster and faster until you suddenly find yourself with a splatter of batter on your cheek.

You groan. Nice one, Y/N, you thought.

You hear a small snicker in front of you and you look up, embarrassed and annoyed. Bucky just stared back at you, a hint of a smirk on his face.

Taking a quick but good look at him, you notice that he had cleaned himself up. His hair was still damp from a shower. It was wavy, pulled back into a small ponytail behind his neck. His face was clear of soot and blood, and he no longer wore his combat outfit.

You can’t help but flicker your eyes over to his left arm, familiarity getting the best of you. You know that you should be rational, but you still feel your shoulders sink as your gaze missed the glint of metal that you were accustomed to.

Bucky senses your wandering eyes. He shakes his head, head dipping back into his bowl of oatmeal. “It isn’t your fault.” He mutters, voice raspy.

You huff, setting down the metal bowl on the marble counter with a bit too much force. You take off your apron and with it, you hastily wipe the splashed part of your face clean; or at least, as clean as you can without a mirror.

“No,” You argue, feeling your throat tighten as the memory and your emotions flashed through your mind once again. You ball up the now dirty apron, throwing it onto the counter. “It is.”

When you had seen him lying on the floor, taking hits every single second, you were unable to move. You had felt helpless, weak... cowardly. It was dumb. You were an Avenger, for Christ's sake. Your life was plenty of danger— seeing people getting hurt had never shook you so hard to the core before. Hell, you survived HYDRA.

Yet the memories were enough to make you freeze up.

Thankfully, Steve had showed up right before the enemy had landed his final blow. If it wasn’t for him, you highly doubted that Bucky would’ve been sitting in front of you right now, casually eating his oatmeal as if he didn’t almost just die a few hours ago.

When Bucky tilted his head up to look at you, ready to retaliate, you stood your ground and stared right back at his light blue eyes. Neither of you said a word.

You were angry. Mad. Furious. At Bucky? Maybe. Him dismissing the fact that you almost let him die and treating your mistake lightly was a thing in its own, but fuck. You were mad at yourself.

You feel incompetent. Useless. You almost let a teammate die, even if physically, you were completely capable of saving them. You drop your head down, unable to continue looking at someone whose life was in your hands just a few moments ago. A life that you were fully capable of protecting, but couldn’t, just because of some stupid fucking memories coming back to haunt you.

Before you know it, a hot tear ran down your cheek— and you hurriedly wiped it away with your arm. Now isn’t time, you hiss at yourself. Baring vulnerability in the middle of the kitchen? Ha. you thought to yourself.

Pathetic.

You grip the edge of the marble tiles, steadying yourself and trying to control your breathing. In and out. In and out. One, two. One, two. It was shaky at first, but after a few seconds of repeating the exercise, you managed to get a loose grip on it. Just enough of a hold to straighten your posture and set aside your mixture, before bolting away from the kitchen and into your bedroom a few doors down the hall.

Once inside, your resolve crumbles. You didn’t even have time to lay on your bed, your legs just giving up and leaving your body down on the carpet. Fresh hot tears ran down like rivers on your face, your nose stuffed, your eyes blurred. Your lungs heaved, just trying its best to give you enough oxygen, but you’re sniffling, your throat’s dry, and your mind’s weary and everything just feels like absolute shit.

You don’t remember how long you had sat there, your legs against your chest, head in your knees and hands on the back of your head as the rest of the water in your body leaves in tears.

You hate feeling like this. Emotional, vulnerable, sensitive… You aren’t supposed to be like this. You have a job. You can’t let your own personal problems get in the way of accomplishing what needed to be done. There isn’t any backing out in what you’re doing. There isn’t a delete nor reverse button. If you fuck up, you fuck up, and that’s that.

Your bedroom door suddenly opens, the unexpected sound making you flinch. Fuck, you forgot to lock it.

Still, you hold your head down against your knees. You don’t want to see anyone right now, you don’t even think that you have any energy left to make a proper conversation. Your throat’s dry, your nose is stuffed, your eyes are sore. You absolutely feel like shit.

The intruder continued their pace, before stopping in front of you. You hear a shuffling of legs, and something being set on your nightstand, until you feel a warm hand lay itself on the side of your left leg. They gave you a couple of soft pats.

From your position, you can’t really see who they are; you had a gut feeling that it was Wanda— but then again it can also be Nat. Or maybe even Steve.

Whoever it was, you know that they’re just trying their best to help, and you appreciate their concern, truly, but you just don’t think you’re capable of talking about something so close to your heart with someone else.

At least, not right now.

Except, you also know that they wouldn’t leave without any verbal cue, and so you force a smile, a truly fake and horrible one as you lift your head up to try and convince whoever it was who decided to check up on you that you’re fine, thanks, and that you just need some space— but as soon as your eyes focused on the person in front of you, your act drops, as the one who you expected the least stared back.

Before you can even ask him to leave, he beats you to it. “Here,” He says, getting up on his knees and retrieving the bottle of water that he had placed on your night stand. “Drink this.”

Wordlessly, you comply. The quench of the water on your tongue clearing your head, hydrating your body back.

Eyes glued to the carpet, unwilling to look anywhere else, you pass him back the glass. Bucky takes it and places it back to where he had originally put it.

He clears his throat. “Listen, Y/N… I— I know that we aren’t really… we aren’t really on the best of terms but— if you want to talk about it, I’m all open ears— but if you want me to leave and forget about this, I’ll head straight out the door.”

“I just—“ Bucky continues, and although your eyes were still fixating on the tufts of wool of your carpet, from the corner of your eye you could still see him shuffle awkwardly on his kneeling position. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you. We all are.”

You… didn’t really know what to say.

Here Bucky was, a soldier, another person who had undergone through HYDRA’s torment, someone whose walls have since been taller then, a teammate who you respected but aren’t close to— hell, barely even really friends with; offering you comfort, a place to vent, a shoulder to let your head rest.

As much as you barely knew him, you feel a pull in you to let him stay.

Bucky, however, takes your silence as refusal. Your eyes catch his legs unfolding from their position, straightening out as he stands up. He doesn’t say anything else as he turns towards the door.

“No, wait—“ You croak, cringing mentally at your voice. Looks like the water didn’t do as well of a job as you thought did. Letting out a much needed sigh, you finally let your gaze strike his, and once it made contact, you saw him. Clearly.

His eyes are cloudy, concern evident in his features. His dark brows are furrowed, lips set in a straight line.

You muster up some courage, and whisper, “Stay.”

Bucky’s expression flickers for a moment, concern turning into total surprise for just a millisecond, and if you had more energy you would have maybe laughed— but you didn’t. Instead, you cast your eyes back to the floor as you hear him shuffle back to you.

He sits to your left, legs crossed, arm on his lap. He doesn’t say anything for a while, the sound of your breathing and his being the only sounds filling your bedroom for a few minutes.

It wasn’t exactly a comfortable silence, some awkwardness from you both definitely seeping through... but nevertheless, your eyes start to get heavy.

Bucky, somehow sensing your current situation, clears his throat— effectively gaining your attention. Your head snaps up to meet his eyes.

“If you want… you can, you know…” He gestures to his right shoulder with his hand. He doesn’t continue his sentence, knowing that you had caught on to his proposition.

Too tired and sleepy to say no, you let out a breath and say fuck it.

You shuffle closer to his body, and as you lean your head down, a wave of fatigue washes over you. You hear Bucky inhale a breath as you finally drop, the left side of your face colliding with his shoulder.

As much as your body was pleading for you to simply close your eyes and just… rest— it still feels too awkward to do so. The silence is deafening, and as much as you appreciate Bucky lowering down his walls just a bit, you can’t help but let the next words tumble out of your mouth;

“What was it like in the ‘40s?”

You feel him stiffen beside you, and for a moment you worry that you had asked for more than you can chew, but within the next second Bucky lets out a small chuckle. He shakes his head slightly, a few strands of his freshly washed hair subsequently grazing over your face. It tickled.

“It was…” He starts, seemingly finding the proper words to say. “It was definitely a different time.” He concludes, sounding nostalgic and full of wistfulness.

His voice: deep and gravelly, began to lull you to sleep. You’ve never heard him quite like this before, often, his words were quick and precise and straight to the point. Never full of sentiment, never so… warm.

You want to hear more. So you hum in response, wanting to know more about his old life, urging him to go on— and go on he did.

He talked about the memories that Shuri had helped him remember from his time in Wakanda. His secret rendezvous, his childhood with Steve, their adventures and misadventures. He went on, his own memories making place in your own mind and pushing aside the ones that had you freezing up before. The ones that had broken you down are now being replaced by silly anecdotes, wistful memories and nonsensical stories.

Without even noticing it, you find yourself asleep on his shoulder, a small smile on your face as Bucky recounts another thought from the past.

You don’t know how long you had fallen asleep, but the crank in your neck was enough to tell you that it might have just been a bit too long. Your bottom aches, sore from the not so cozy flooring, and your back definitely needs to be stretched. Your body hurts, but at least your chest feels lighter.

You lift your head up from Bucky’s shoulder, feeling him flinch from your sudden movement. His head pulls back from its resting place on your wall. He looks back at you, confused.

He meets your eyes, and it seems that he had just woken up as well… had he fallen asleep too?

Bucky just continues gazing into your eyes, and you can’t help but just… stare back. Thankful for his comfort.

“I…” You whisper, about to thank him, until you remember the dessert that you had just hastily cast aside before bolting to your bedroom. “The leche flan!” You cry out, worried— fuck, if you leave it out for too long it could spoil!

Bucky, however, became even more confused at your outburst. You calm yourself down for a moment, letting out a sigh.

“My— uh, my dessert.” You explain, embarrassed. “It could spoil if I leave it out too long— I need to… I need to get back to it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen, thankfully understanding your dilemma, giving you a nod. So you lift your body up, stretching it just a bit, your bones popping themselves back into place.

You’re almost out of your door when you hear footsteps from behind and to no surprise you see Bucky, hair disheveled and lounge clothes wrinkled. You fight an urge to giggle. The all powerful soldier, looking all messy and drowsy... It’s definitely a sight to behold, maybe even a precious one at that.

He runs his hands through his hair, loosening his ponytail and settling his hair tie around his wrist with one hand. You try to ignore the way his fingers easily managed to do that. “If… I mean if you need a hand… I can— help?” He suggests, voice dropping to an unsure whisper by the end of his sentence.

You feel your mouth pull into a small smile, and this time, you let it do so. “Sure.”

So to the kitchen both of you went, a comfortable silence and understanding settling between you two. You quickly spot your metal mixing bowl from before, alone on the island counter. A relieved sigh falls from your lips as you peek an eye into the container to see the mixture untouched.

“So…” You start, grabbing the apron that you had thrown onto the counter in a fury. You don’t bother with getting a new one— it’s only slightly dirty, anyway. You put it on, tying it around your waist and patting it down slightly in less than a second. “Let’s get you an apron, shall we?”

You open the cabinet in which you keep the aprons and pick one up at random, giving it to Bucky with one hand— your back still turned away from him— as you use your other hand to close the door. When you turn back to face him, a complete look of hesitation is on his face.

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Bucky clears his throat. He looks up at you, and then at his arm, sheepishly. “Can you…?”

Eyes widening, you quickly nod, ashamed that you had forgotten about something so important. “Yes, of course.”

You walk to his side, grabbing the piece of cloth on his hand and positioning yourself behind him. “Here.” You say, grabbing the bib part and looping it around his neck. You brush his hair out of the way, inadvertently appreciating its softness, as the neck ribbon then lays itself properly against his neck. “Arms up.” You order, Bucky complying instantly. Taking the other two pieces of ribbon by his side, you wrap it around his waist and tie it by his back with a small little bow, tightening it just enough for it to not fall off but still be comfortable. “There.”

“Thanks.” He mutters, turning around to face you with a grateful smile, hair swishing as he did so. You smile, but then you realize that he should probably tie it just so that it won’t get dirty or in the way.

Before you know it, you ask him, “Want me to tie your hair, too?”

Bucky’s eyes widened, and upon realizing what you had just said too, your eyes did the same. Was that too much? You quickly open your mouth, desperately trying to apologize. “I’m just— it could get dirty or in the way if you don’t… and doing it with one hand must be…” You explain, inwardly cringing at your own words and not even trying to finish your statement.

Thankfully, Bucky quickly catches up to what you were trying to say. He flashes you a reassuring grin. “I would appreciate it, doll.”

You tried to ignore the butterflies swarming in your stomach at that little nickname.

Getting the hair tie from his wrist, you desperately ignore the way your hands brushed against his. You angle your body towards his back once more, raking your hands softly in his hair, grabbing it gently and putting it into a comfortable ponytail.

“Thanks again,” He turns around to face you, gratitude clear in his eyes. You just smile back at him, feeling the heat creep up to your face. Thank God your skin doesn’t easily show colour.

You had never been this close to him before— and the bedroom incident (You had decided to label that... ’moment’ in your mind like that as of right now.) just a few minutes ago didn’t quite count as you weren’t looking at him, nor were you a hundred percent conscious during that encounter.

Before things get even more awkward, you quickly turn your body back to the kitchen island. “Well then— let’s continue with this, shall we?” You announce, wanting to just calm your feverishly beating heart and the rise of heat in your cheeks. Maybe agreeing to let him bake with you isn’t as good of an idea as you had thought.

Bucky just gave a hum as a response, and so you went about and explained to him each and every step that needed to be done. Thankfully, you had already finished mixing up the batter, and so now all you really had to do was heat up the sugar, pour the batter into the moulds, and then steam it all up. Just three more steps and you’re done.

“So,” You start, grabbing the metal containers that you had already pulled out from the cabinets before you had started. “This—” You lift one up, pointing at it with your index. “Is called a llanera. What we’re basically going to do is pour some sugar in it, heat that up until it’s nice and brown and syrup-y, and then we add the batter. Got it?”

“A yah-neh-rah?” Bucky asks, rolling the word over his tongue, getting the feel of it. You smile at his well-executed attempt.

“Yep,” You reply, placing the mould down onto the counter. You grab the sugar jar and a tablespoon, dipping it into the container and sprinkling a generous amount all over the metal container. “Actually— I’ll heat up the sugar and then you can pour the batter in, that sound good to you?”

Bucky just gave a hum once more, signalling his approval of your plan.

After about two tablespoons, you put it aside and walked towards the stove top, Bucky following beside you in earnest with the metal bowl containing the egg mixture in his arm. Turning the dial up, you put on an oven mitt as you wait for the range to get hot enough; and once it does, you hold the metal tin a few centimetres away from the top of the burner. Within minutes, the sugar caramelizes, turning into the familiar, brown syrup.

The scent that then fills the kitchen is heavenly, pure sugar wafting through the air. You hear Bucky sniff, and you let out a smile, happy that he liked it too.

You place the hot tin onto a cooling rack. “Your time to shine.” You smile up at Bucky, motioning for him to go ahead and pour the batter in.

With a gentle and cautious hand, Bucky slowly tilts the bowl into the mould, the creamy mixture pouring itself out. After a few seconds, you say, “Okay… that’s good— you can stop now.” He swiftly follows your instruction, stopping when there‘s only 2 or more so centimetres left in the pan before the batter touches the rim. He looks up at you, expectant.

Before you know it, the thought passes by your mind. How cute.

Biting your lip, you set aside the flutter in your stomach. You give him a huge grin. “That was great,” You praise him, genuine pride rushing through you. “Now let’s finish the other ones, shall we?”

Bucky and you then continued on, filling the rest of the llaneras up. It was a pleasant experience, discomfort and awkwardness not present at all while both of you worked on your respective tasks. It was… soothing, you could say.

“Nice!” You cheer, clapping your hands together as Bucky finishes filing the last of the moulds, setting down the empty metal bowl in the sink right after. “Now, let’s cover it with aluminium foil and then we can steam it and eat it.” You grin up at Bucky, who simply nods back at you.

You grab the aluminum foil, eyeballing the sizes for each of the containers. It doesn’t really matter anyway, they just had to be big enough to cover the pans. Within a few, quick minutes, all of the llaneras were ready to be steamed.

Opening up the steamer, you place three of the moulds in— mentally telling yourself that you should ask Tony to buy more steamers so that you can simply just cook the next batch of leche flans all at once. You then close the handle, setting it on medium heat and the self timer on. “There.” You announce, hands unintentionally going to and resting at your hips, proud.

You face Bucky, who seem to be just as proud as you are. It seems like he had something on his mind, though, and so you tilt your head. Curious. “Something on your mind?” You ask.

He hums, hand going back to scratch the nape of his neck. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…” He starts, giving you a reassuring smile to show you that he meant it. “But… how’d you learn how to bake?”

Your breath hitches in your throat at his question, caught off guard as the answer flashes in your mind. To say you were surprised was an understatement. You had assumed that he would ask you when the leche flan would be finished— not about your… past.

Though, you figure that he deserves to know about your history, now that you basically know all about his own. He had recounted his entire life to you just an hour or two ago, after all. It’s only appropriate that you share some of your own life with him back.

You let your hands fall from your waist, resting them in front of your stomach as you fiddled with them as you compose your answer. “Well—“ You start, taking a deep breath. Bucky, patiently, urges for you to go on with a small nod. “I don’t— I don’t really remember much from my past… just a few memories here and there.” You take a pause.

“But— there had always been this one memory, which… always stood out from the rest.” You bite your lower lip, the recollection taking place in your mind, making you smile. “I was in my lola’s— my grandma’s kitchen, dough in my hand and flour everywhere and we were—“ You feel your throat tightening up, making you take another pause. Bucky, still as patient as ever, gives you a small smile and wordlessly urges for you to go on. “We were making pandesal… a type of bread…” You continue, smiling, remembering the sticky hands and the rays of the hot southeast sun passing by the blinds. “It was a calm afternoon… just me and her, baking...”

“That’s all I really remember of her, and so I… every time I feel overwhelmed or every time I’m having a bad day I just— bake.” You conclude, looking up at him. There was more to the story, more that you have yet to tell him, memories that are still hard to share; but even with the small piece of it leaving your chest, your whole body feels lighter, grateful for having been listened to.

Bucky just stares back at you, respect evident on his face, a small smile still on his lips. “I’m… thankful that you shared that with me, Y/N.” He says, and as your name rolls off his tongue, you can’t help but smile back.

You were about to say something, but the moment was cut off by the steamer's angry beeping. You let out a small giggle as you see Bucky flinch. “Well— let’s check up on those lil’ things, shall we?”

Opening up the steamer and waving the steam away from your face, your mouth waters at the sight before you. They looked perfect.

Quickly grabbing a serving plate, you take one of the tins out and place it upside down on the ceramic— it would probably be even better if you let it cool down first in the fridge, but you can hardly wait. You give it a couple of taps, stopping once you hear the familiar ‘plop’ sound.

You take off the llanera, and a pristine and perfect looking leche flan greets you back. You hear Bucky hum in approval beside you as you take out a fork, getting a slice. Turning to your side and raising the utensil up at him, you ignore the slowly rising heartbeat in your rib cage as you muster up the courage to say, “Want the first bite?”

Bucky seemed to be taken aback at first, and for a moment you fret that you might have overestimated and overstepped your boundaries, but a small nod from him eases your worry. Lifting it up to his mouth, he lets you give him the slice. You decide to ignore the intimacy of the moment, as is the heat in your cheeks; instead focusing on his expression.

He doesn’t show nor say anything at first; and you furrow your eyebrows. Was it too sweet for his taste? Had you accidentally let some egg whites mix in with the yolks?

Before you have the chance to ask him what he thought of it, Bucky swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as his lips curled into a huge grin. “Damn... that’s really good Y/N.”

Relief rushing through you at his approval, you laugh, happy that he likes it. Not wasting another second, you open your mouth and give yourself your own slice; savouring the creaminess and sweetness of the desert. It tasted heavenly.

Looking back at Bucky, you startle yourself out of your sweet paradise as he stared back at you. Light blue— almost cerulean— eyes gazing back into yours.

“Thank you.” were the only words out of his mouth, but that still didn’t stop your heart from fastening it’s pace nor the butterflies from welcoming themselves into your stomach.

His deep and raspy voice clearly enunciated every single emotion, and you know, deep in your heart, that he wasn’t just talking about the dessert.

You smile back at him, eyes crinkling, as you say, “You’re welcome.”

#lily’s lil’ stories #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes x you #poc reader #poc!reader #filipina reader #filipina!reader #this was very self indulgent haha oops #also might do a sequel to explain readers past...... so look out for that;)#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you

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elevenhoursinfront-blog · 6 years

Text

29th November 2017

We slept fine considering how hot it was. It does literally make you feel like you're oxygen is running out, it's weird. We walked over to the toilet straight away as we were busting. We said good morning to a few fellow campers as we walked through the rest area.

We got back to the car and the camper'car' next to us was eating breakfast. They arrived last night as Steve and I were sitting in the car park bay in our underwear (what a sight). Two girls and one guy. He had a roof tent which looked pretty cool. They were all very inconsiderately loud and from Germany. I've met so many German's this year that I reckon I could speak it. I recognise it quicker than English now! Don't get me wrong, I've met a few gems that I'll be visiting and if I time it right, it'll be during Oktoberfest!

We got dressed in the car and had our breakfast cereal on one of the picnic benches. There were flies and birds everywhere which were slightly annoying. It will be nice to eat a meal at a table inside without insects. What a thought for the future.

We wanted to get on the road as soon as possible, so by 0900, we were off. It was my turn to drive so I did. Another five hour drive. I'm sure my bottom is going square.

It's funny how we consider a 5 hour drive to be a normal drive here and a 1 hour drive to be popping to the shops.

My ankle started to really hurt after about 3.5 hours. Our old girl does not have cruise control so you can imagine how much the ankle hurts after 5 hours.

Even though the drives are really long, I really enjoy them. Steve and I get to talk to each other for hours and it's amazing how much you can still learn about your partner, even after years of being together.

We pulled up to our caravan park around 1330. It was called 'The Reef' and had loads of mermaids everywhere. We parked up and walked in. The door was locked and a resident came out of a massive RV to check us in. He started checking us in when his wife came and done the rest.

She was lovely and told us about all the good stuff to do in the area. She gave us a map and circled things off. She got us some leaflets including our surf lesson that we had picked to do prior to arriving. We'll be doing that tomorrow.

For the last few days, the rain hasn't really stopped. The skies were grey the whole drive down from Airlie Beach which is annoying. We parked in our spot and the park was fairly empty. The lady said it wasn't in season yet. We had picked unpowered because it was much cheaper, but still expensive.

I can't believe people are charging a good $50 a night when they know we're renting a home that costs $35 a night any way. It's so irritating.

We went for a wee and checked around the 'camp kitchen'. It wasn't much of a kitchen to be honest with you, it was a BBQ, sink and a kettle. That was all. We went back to our van and decided to drive to the town. This was the cheapest camp site in the area of Agnes Waters/1770 because it wasn't smack bang in the middle of the town. There were loads more along the beach front but you can imagine the price of those.

We jumped in the van and drove the 10 minutes in. The town itself was small. A lot smaller than either of us had pictured. It's very popular amongst backpackers but at first glance, I was struggling to see why. Most come here to learn to surf. It's the cheapest lesson along the coast only costing $17 for 3 hours. Elsewhere is around $70 for 2 hours.

We drove to the top of 1770 and parked up. There were a few lookout points which were meant to be stunning, and still were, it's just that it was the most miserable day. You don't appreciate a good view without the beautiful blue sky. The lookout points were a walk through the forest area which we did whilst we were starving. We hadn't eaten since breakfast this morning so we were walking around with a pack of Snack'A'Jacks. Steve was having a real 'mantrum' (tantrum for full grown men) because in his eyes, his East Coast trip had lead to this. I really enjoyed them and they're not very fattening. It filled a gap so what else can you ask for!

We walked back to the van, after I by accidentally hit Steve in the balls with the pack of Snack'A'Jacks. I was swinging them as I was walking but Steve managed to get in the way. He had one of those dramatic moments where he felt like he was actually, for real this time, dying. He was over it in a few seconds though and besides, it was an accident.

We drove to the bottom of the town and drove around. It appears there's a fair bit of money in 1770 and the houses were unreal. The majority of them are on a steep hill though and I am not about that sort of life. Imagine carrying your full shop up 10,000 steps just to get to the front door? Nope!

We pulled over at a shop that said 'Information Centre'. These are based in almost every town along the coast for backpackers to find out what is best to do. They're basically travel agents too so they will try to sell you as much as they can.

We walked in and picked up the leaflet for our surf lesson we pre-planned. The English lad in the agents said it's a good surf school and obviously, the cheapest. He said we didn't need to book in advance, we just turn up at the school at 0900. Woop!

There was one more trip I wanted to do in Agnes which is really, really popular and it's called 'Scooteroo'. It's basically a school of motorbikes which gets you dressed up in black leathers with flames on and you drive round like you're a red neck for the day. You don't need a bike license as they're not real big bikes although they're are the spitting image of Harley's! It's pretty awesome but it was $65 each. I didn't really want to waste so much money on driving round on a bike, although it looked so cool.

As we were in the store, the heavens opened and it was chucking buckets. We ran to the car and decided to go to IGA to get some washing liquid. We were desperate to do a wash but we didn't keep any of our laundry stuff. Silly, really. We went inside and I managed to get a 2L bottle for the price of a 1L bottle – bargain! I bet we don't even use 1L of it...

We decided on having Alfredo pasta so Steve picked up some chicken breast and a garlic bread to go with it. We left in our van and returned to our camp. I was quite chilly so I put a hoody on and got our stuff out for dinner. We have to try and cook before it gets dark otherwise we're stuck with only a head torch.

We got over to the camp kitchen and tried to preheat the BBQ. We didn't have a lighter so we couldn't light the gas. Luckily, a guy came over with one of those long clicky lighters and lit it for us. He was from Scotland and really chatty – a nice guy. He was on his own with his Labrador. Steve reckons he's split up with his wife and now on his own.

We cooked our dinner which was delicious. It got dark but luckily there were kitchen lights. Just as we were finishing, the guy's Labrador came running over to see if there was any left for him. He came running over shouting at his dog but ended up standing there, chatting to us for about 40 minutes. Steve was right – his wife left him. He didn't have enough money to get a house so he was forced to leave his job and buy a mobile type home. He has the dog luckily so he has some sort of companion. I felt so sorry for him, his world had just been turned upside down and he's lost everything. He did his year working visa when he was around 19 years old. He's a good 40 years old now. He moved to Brisbane and settled down there for the rest of his life. He has no intention on moving back home. He's going to travel Australia for the year and see where his life takes him. He must be so lonely, which is why I guess he stayed to talk to us for so long. He was enjoying some company for the first time in a week, two weeks.

I washed our stuff up and we jumped into the van. We got our stuff ready for a shower and went just before bed. Cold showers before bed to at least give us half a chance of not over heating.

We were back and in bed by 2100. The rain hadn't stopped since we saw it open up at the stores earlier. It was so heavy and loud on the van, I thought it might come through.

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koko-lolly-blog · 7 years

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thomaria2

warning: daddy kink, smut (ok no shit tho), dom thom, sub maria -- It was around quarter to 9pm. Maria was at her and Thomas' apartment. She wore an oversized sweater with kinky thigh highs. They had little straps to connect to the panty line of her lingerie which was under the sweater. Maria was on the bed, her plump ass waving in the air as she played around on her phone. Thomas was working a late shift and she was horny. -- {Daddy💖} I miss you, thomas im sorry bbygirl, ill come around 9 but I'm hornyyyyy.. its just about 15 min baby girl, get ready for daddy cuz i might come anytime 😘 okay daddy~~ -- Maria giggled and smirked. She set her phone aside and rolled over. 'get ready for daddy' replayed in her voice as Maria imagined Thomas saying it. She loved him, he was so hot. He had the most genuine smirk, best sex moves, and he was dominant. Like really. Plus, Thomas was taller than maria. And he had a long one. Maria bit her lip at these thoughts. She slipped off her sweater and revealed the lace lingerie. It was red, and Thomas gave it to Maria as a Christmas gift (mind that everyone around the Christmas tree cringed when she opened it,). It was beautiful and very lustful. It had a thing that connected to the outfit, that nicely hugged Maria's curves. Her waist and stomach was flat, as the lace patterned over it in a floral manner. Moving up to her breasts, damn were they huge. Maria's lace lingerie had a very small filtered fishnet as the bra, but two floral decorations censored her nipples. Maria wish they didn't. A few minutes after admiring herself in the mirror, Maria heard the door opening and closing briefly from the entrance of their apartment. Thomas came home, and he was very horny for Maria. She was currently on the bathroom counter on her phone. "Mmmmm~ Where's my baby~? Daddy's hungry.." Thomas muttered throughout the apartment, looking for maria. He smirked a toothy smirk. Maria gasped, setting her phone down and hurrying to Thomas. "Babe!!" She cheered and pounced onto him. Thomas flinched and chuckled, biting his lip at Maria's attire. "Mm, I like your choice of clothing~" He complimented, holding her waist and pecking her on the lips. Maria laughed, "Thank you." She muttered as she smirked up at her very tall boyfriend. "So, did I come home early for nothing or what?" Thomas muttered, smirking as he picked up Maria. Maria's eyes widened. "Oh!" She grinned. "You're strong, tommy." Thomas, without a word, lifted his small but thicc girlfriend to their bed. "Oh my," Thomas laid her down on the bed, holding her thighs up and looking down at her dripping wet panty. Maria blushed, averting eye contact with him. Thomas smirked, giggling. "You're always so wet when thinking about me, eh?" He said, quickly leaning his head down to lick it, teasingly. Maria shuddered. Thomas thought for a bit, before moving the part that was covering her pussy and quickly inserting a finger. "Ah-!" Maria gasped, as Thomas move his finger quickly. She gave small yelps. Thomas dare himself to insert another finger. Now his index and middle fingers were giving Maria orgasms. Soon Maria yelped and huffed more heavier and faster each second, before releasing a load onto his fingers. Thomas grinned, taking his fingers out. He made eye contact with Maria, smirking as he licked his fingers clean. Thomas then proceeded to lick her pussy clean as well, which he gained a moan from Maria. "Daddy... I need you," Maria begged, swinging her ass in the air, but it was grinding against Thomas' boner. He gave a groan, holding her ass. "Aight, baby girl." Thomas unzipped his pants, making the boner more hard. He finally pulled out his 8 incher, thick and throbbing for Maria's pussy. "Daddy, hurry up.." Maria begged once more, grinding against Thomas harder. "Okay okay baby, be patient." Thomas smirked as he spread her ass, hot dogging her with his dick. "O-Ooohh.." Maria moaned, clenching the sheets just a bit. "Daddy, p-please." She begged again. Thomas sighed and inserted slowly. Every inch he inserted, a moan or yelp or cuss was gained from Maria. He was now all the way in, grinding against her. Now, just for the fun of it, Thomas gave Maria a spank. She gasped, which ended in moaning. "..Did that hurt?" He asked, thrusting a bit slowly. "yes" was all Maria whispered, not enough for Thomas to hear. He groaned, spanking her again. "What was that~?" "Y-Yees~!!" She yelped out louder. Thomas smirked, "That's what I thought." Soon he was thrusting really fast, in and out. Maria let her drooling tongue stick out. Thomas was about to come, so he thrust once more and pulled out, releasing on the bed. "Woops," He chuckled. "I'm n-not-- c-cleaning t-that.." Maria huffed, still recovering. Soon Maria got on all fours, facing Thomas. She licked her lips as Thomas pumped himself before she could start. "alright baby girl, its all yours." Thomas leaned back and relaxed as Maria did whatever she needed to. First, she gave a small lick at the tip as she worked her way down half way, her hand doing what she can't. Maria tried deepthroating, which she failed by gagging. "Its okay b-babygirl. Don't pressure yourself like that," He played around with her hair a bit. Maria nodded, returning to her occupation. After a few minutes, Thomas was on the verge of coming, again. "Mmghm, b-baby..i-im gonna," Thomas got cut off by him releasing a huge load into Maria's mouth. She didnt expect it,because he gave a late warning. But now Thomas' cum was in her mouth, and she didn't know what to do. "Hm.. spit or swallow?" Thomas smirked, glancing down at her. Maria shrugged and gulped, without shame. "Ohoho, how did it taste?" He asked, holding her chin up. "G-Good." Maria muttered, licking her red lips. Thomas sat up, letting Maria sit on his lap. "Let's take a break," Thomas suggested as Maria face him, her legs around his waist. "Okay," Maria nodded. But Thomas couldn't help but to give her a few hickeys here and there. "Mm.." Maria moaned softly, giggling. She slipped down her lingerie so it wasn't so sweaty. Thomas couldn't help but stare at her chest. "Its been a while since I saw those~" Thomas smirked. Maria returned a smirk.. and a yawn. Thomas didn't hesitate on playing around with her tits. "T-Thomas.. I'm t-tireddd.." She softly moaned, leaning her head against his chest. Thomas sighed, accepting the fact that he was tired as well. "alright baby girl, let's watch some Netflix til we sleep, mkay?" He smiled down at her, as she reflected the smile also. "Okay," Maria nodded as she laid down on the bed, grabbing the remote. Thomas pulled his pants down, only leaving him in boxers shirtless. Maria just changed into a bra and underwear. They cuddled up together on the bed, turning on the TV across from their bed (it was mounted on the wall) and watched marathon on Netflix. "I love you, Maria." "I love you too, Thomas~" IM SO SORRY FOR TJIS AHAHAHHSSGAVXVVZ

#thomaria #thomasjeffersonxmaria #marialewis #mariareynolds #smut #rp #dontjudgeplz #hecc

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myfuckofffundjourney · 6 years

Text

Money Diary, Week 1

This will be long, and rambly! But it’s good to have it written down.

Tuesday, Jan 2

11 am: feeling like hell, go grab some over the counter decongestants. Pharmacist suggests a proper doctors visit. Make an appointment. 22nis

11:15: grab coffee at cafelix on the way to the bus. 11 nis

11:20: bus. 5.9 nis

12:00: pick up some doctor prescribed decongestants. 16nis.

14:30: bus home. 5.9 nis

14:45: crap. Can’t use transfer - buy another ticket. 5.9 nis

16:30: need water and snacks - 11 nis. I buy a glass bottle that I’ll reuse until I lose it or something. I had a reusable water bottle that i misplaced at a friends house. I keep reminding myself to go find it or buy a new one. That and a portable french press to-go mug, which is the best for my coffee addiction+constantly running around schedule.

22:00: Load my rav kav with 30 shekels. Home, grilled cheese and apple sandwich, TV, free yoga, bed. 30 nis.

107.7

Wednesday, Jan 3

11:00: Woke up feeling good! I planned my day out so that I did yoga, cleaned, and studied for two hours. Breakfast was a few pieces of peanut butter toast and a clementine. Now I need coffee and am out (used the last dregs for a sad cup this morning that just isn’t doing it) so I run out to grab some. 11 nis

14:30: I’m also out of toilet paper. On the way to get some, I drop off a sweater that needs to be dry cleaned. It was free so I don’t mind needing to dry clean it. Plus, its the best sweater ever. Grab a small package of toilet paper. In the future I will try to get to bulk stores and buy in bulk but for now, I’ll go with tiny 4-packs. Successfully restrain myself from buying a snack, telling myself I’m avoiding extra expenses and sugar. 5.5 nis

14:45: Heating up chicken soup for lunch. I see that my maple syrup has some weird blobs floating around in it which means some moths probably got inside. SO ANNOYED. I have more, and I probably didn’t even pay for this one, but it’s still an expensive food item I like having around and it sucks to waste it. Fuck you, moths. Eat my chicken soup, which is nearly finished (thankfully, it was getting a bit boring).

15:00: a friend is giving away a mattress, which I need. I just don’t know how i would get it to where I am, which is a studio sublet for the next 7 days, and where I’d put it after until I move into my new place. This is tricky.

22:00: The chair and mattress don’t work out, which sucks, because it could have saved me a lot of money. Oh well. I head to Jerusalem after class and get dinner with Shlomi. They end up giving us tons of free drinks because I used to work there. We split the bill. 88 nis.

104.5

Thursday Jan 4

10:00: coffee and a donut to nurse my hangover/sit and plan my day. I’m going to work somewhere that pays really well per hour, so things like a coffee in the morning feel less worrisome, as I need to be focused and Shlomi only has shit coffee at his place. A while after I leave, I realize that the guy forgot to ring up my donut, and make a mental note to remind him next time. 15 nis.

11:00: Take a taxi that I can bill to the client. I don’t in the end though. 30 nis.

18:00: Get paid! I worked really reallllllly slowly today so I end up charging them for an hour less. Still, I made 1200nis, and with reimbursements, it came to a nice 3170 nis. Wahoo!

18:30: Bus to meet friends for dinner. 5.9 nis.

20:00: Ugh. I told friends I’d take them to dinner as a thank you for a huge favor (that netted me a good amount of money a week ago). I put down 350 nis. 350 nis.

20:10: Train to the bus station because it is freezing and I’m tired. 5.9 nis.

21:00: Fill my Rav Kav. 100 nis.

22:00: grab chocolate and cream for my very necessary hot chocolate movie date night with myself. 18 nis.

524.8

Friday Jan 5

13:30: Head to a friend to cook and get ready for shabbat. He bought most of the food, which is nice for me. I pick up my sweater from the dry cleaners on the way to him. 30 nis.

13:45: Pick up necessary dinner items (I brought the rest from home) - noodles and nori. It costs 18 nis.

14:30: Meet up with a friend - I really want to get coffee or something but we just grab a package of cookies that I devour. 12 nis.

Saturday Jan 6

Money-free day! Woop woop.

Sunday Jan 7

In a fit of annoyance after waiting at the bank for WAY too long, I impulse buy a fuckton of cake. Whoops. 24 nis. But I made all my meals at home - including a truly vile peanut noodle stir fry that used up most of the veggies that were going off. It’s definitely not enough and I’ll probably get a snack later, but at least I ate my big meals (breakfast and dinner) at home.

20:00: buy some chocolate. I eat them and feel like shit in every part of my body. Dumb move. Ugh. 16 nis

Monday Jan 8

Morning coffe - 10 nis. After taking care of the bank (does depositing 5,000 nis into a deposit for an apartment count as spending money? Not sure…) I go to hand in receipts for an event I did a few weeks ago - will hopefully get paid for it soon. I need to return wineglasses I borrowed for it; the taxi ride there and back to a meeting with an interested potential client who wants cooking lessons costs me a shitload of money - 117 nis - and I’m annoyed that I didn’t bill the people who did the event. On the other hand, it might bring it a lot of work in the future so it’s worth it. I hope. Meet friends for coffee and donuts. I end up paying which is annoying but I know she’ll get me back in the future. 38 nis. Then I get lunch because I’m still getting over my sugar hangover. 33 nis. On the way to the bus I grab a water bottle because I feel faint with thirst - 7 nis. Once at school, I duck into a grocery store and pick up a banana, apple,and yogurt for breakfast tomorrow. 13.5 nis. Talk to a friend about signing up for a CSA which should actually save money - it’s 90 shekel a week plus a 20 shekel delivery fee. Divided by two people, it’s 55 shekel a week and should be enough produce for us, and as a bonus, it’s fresh, local, and seasonal and also will help me cut down on impulse grocery store buys.

I know the next few weeks/months are going to be stupidly expensive - I have to move a house, get new things for the new place, replace my phone because it’s dying. I can see that the cord on my computer charger is fraying - it will probably need to get repaired soon or fixed. That’s not to mention the two huge fees that have been looming over me - getting my license and getting my wisdom teeth out. Those two, plus tuition, are the like, massive things that I need to sort out but don’t even know how it is POSSIBLE. Gah.

Go home. Decide not to buy anything even though I need food that’s healthyish. I make some tea and peanut butter toast.

218.5

Tuesday Jan 9

Meet a friend for breakfast even though it’s not the smartest thing to do, but it’s delicious and we have fun. 50 nis.

Grab groceries on the way home, including some oatmeal to replace from what I took in this apartment. I get her a full container even though I only used a tiny bit. 30 nis

Throw in a load of laundry. Jesus christ I cannot WAIT to have a washing machine again. This blows. 20 nis. Then another 6 nis for drying it. Grr.

Head to class. I’m agressively tired so I go to cofix and get a shitty coffee and energy bar. 10 nis.

Happily I get a ride home! Make us tuna wraps and pack the apartment.

116

Wednesday Jan 10

I pack all morning. Kim is here to help me move which is amazing, so I take her for breakfast. Between the two of us and tip, it comes out to 112 nis.

Go home, continue packing. I need to get trash bags because I have nothing to put my linens in, and also replace some soy milk. 24 nis. While in am/pm I get a call from my health insurance - I need to make a late payment. Bloody hell. :(

We drive to make the second drop off - have to wait outside for a key. I get us both a juice because we are irritable and sore and exhausted. 18 nis.

Buy a soda water. 5 nis.

School. Buy a yogurt and clementine. 7.5 nis.

Head to Jerusalem. I’m starving and assuming Shlomi is in school till ten so I grab pizza with a friend. 45 nis. Meet another friend to kill some time - she convinces me to get ice cream. I dont even want ice cream but we’re stoned. Ugh. 15 nis.

226.5

Weekly Total: 1398

Food (groceries) 109

Food (restaurants/not at home/impulse buys) 870

Transportation 159.5

Transportation, work related: 147

Misc: 99.5

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