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ifmywishescametrue · 3 years

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i don't know if you're still taking prompts (so please ignore this if you aren't) but i cant stop thinking about your recent buckytony fic (and how much i love breaking up and making up as a trope) - so i was wondering if you'd be up for doing smth else w that trope for buckytony?? maybe they re-unite at a mutual friend's wedding?? and it brings up emotions about their almost wedding?? idk i just really love breaking up and making up as a trope and i really love your writing :))

thank you!! I'm very much up for doing another buckytony break up/make up, plus you deserve nice things for finishing law school - congrats on that!🎉🎉hope you like this one 😊

There's a ring on Bucky's finger.

It's the first thing Tony notices when he walks into the bar for Natasha and Sharon's joint bachelorette party. He stands there in the doorway, frozen and staring until someone clears their throat pointedly behind him, and he mumbles an apology as he moves out of the way.

He thinks about turning around and not coming back, just ditching the event entirely and maybe even the wedding tomorrow, but he tosses the ridiculous thought the second it comes. He promised Sharon when she asked him to be her man of honor that he could handle Bucky being Nat's. Living on the other side of the country afforded him to miss the rest of the events and planning along the way, and he could deal with one day of being cordial to his ex, even if the day comes with walking down an aisle together.

But now there's a ring on Bucky's finger.

The silver catches the light, and it's on prominent display with his left hand wrapped around a beer bottle. It shouldn't be possible for him to have moved on that quickly. Eight months shouldn't be long enough to bury three years of memories. Three years of hopes and dreams and plans for a future built together. Years of love so blindingly intense that it burrowed into Tony's soul to make a home and refused to be evicted just because it was supposed to be over.

Tony wonders what the timeline is. Did he find someone new while Tony was still just beginning to pick up his own scattered pieces? A first date for him while Tony was barely getting out of bed. When was it that he replaced Tony as the last person to have his heart? And how did he find forever in someone else so soon after losing the one he used to call his soulmate?

Natasha notices him first, still hovering near the entrance, and she raises a single eyebrow that calls him a coward. He rolls his eyes at the accusation, though it's accurate. She elbows Sharon to catch her attention, and before he knows it the entire small group is turning their heads his way, giving him no choice but to join them.

It's less bachelorette party and more pre-wedding celebration with the crowd they've gathered, all mutual friends of both brides with no regards for gender traditions that usually come with this night. Tony used to fit in well with them all, back when gatherings like this were just a typical Friday night. But he made himself an outsider between the move to California and the breakup with Bucky. All he has now with most of them is a dead group chat that hasn't been used in months. He wonders which one of them made the new one without him in it.

Sharon is the first to pull him into a hug, then Natasha follows suit. He gets a nod from Sam, a wave from Clint, and what might pass as a smile from Steve. Bucky stares so intensely that Tony can feel his eyes with his back turned, but when Tony looks his way, he pretends to be interested in the floor.

He had a plan before the ring threw him off. Step one should have been the entrance. Head held high, shoulders square, perfect outfit that shows everything off and compliments the Malibu tan he has now. Step two should be nonchalance. A light hearted greeting to everyone, accompanied by an easy grin and relaxed body language, and catching up with subtle brags slipped in. Show them all that he's doing better than he ever was, sitting on top of the world these days, even if most of the time it feels like he's barely above rock bottom.

Step three in his ideal scenario involved Bucky breaking down and begging to get him back. Some versions even had him on his knees for it, with tears running down his face. Others required it to be raining outside, and the cloudless sky ruined that before the ring on Bucky's finger did.

With steps one and three out the window, he tries to salvage step two.

“Hey,” Tony starts, a little too loud. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries again, “Hey, Bucky. It's good to see you.”

Bucky nods, a strained, jerky motion. “Yeah, you too. How, uh, how have you been?”

“Good. Really good, actually. Company just had its highest sales quarter yet, so it’s been a little crazy around there, but good.”

“Good,” Bucky repeats, and there’s a long awkward pause.

“And what about you?” Tony asks, and then because he can’t help himself, he adds, “I see you got engaged. Or, hell, I guess it could be married, even.”

Bucky freezes with parted lips and wide eyes for the briefest of moments, like he wasn’t expecting Tony to know about it or bring it up, and his eyes shift to the ring on his hand and stay there.

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “Engaged. Last week.”

Tony ignores the ache in his chest and plasters on a smile like he’s happy for him. “Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know him. Steve introduced us. They work together.”

“So he’s at the museum then? I thought you used to say that you hated all those stuffy guys and Steve was the only one worth knowing.”

Bucky smiles, a fond thing that widens the crack in Tony’s heart. “Yeah, well, I guess I was wrong. Felix is a great guy.”

Tony resists the urge to roll his eyes. Stupid name that probably matches a stupid, punchable face.

Some masochist thing pulls at him to make him keep digging for more information, a twisted need to know even as each word pushes the knife in deeper. He aims for casual, leaning back against one of the high top tables as he asks, “So how long have you been together?”

“Just a couple of months. Kind of fast, I know, but when you’re sure about something, it doesn’t really matter, right? Why waste time waiting?”

“Right, of course,” Tony says, a little flatter than he intends. “So why isn’t he here tonight? Hope it wasn’t to spare my feelings, because it’s really not necessary.”

Bucky falters, “It’s not? You, uh, you’re dating someone, then?”

Tony nods, and he wishes he had grabbed a drink before this so he could hide behind it as he lies through his teeth. “Only a few weeks, though. A little too early to be a wedding date, but I’m sure your guy will be there tomorrow right?”

“Oh, um, yeah, definitely. Why wouldn’t he be, right? There’s no reason I can think of,” Bucky says, stumbling around it. “But tell me more about your thing. Your person. How’s that going?”

Tony shrugs, and he finally pulls off that easy smile he’s been trying for. “Well, it’s not get engaged in a couple of months good, but it’s been really great. We’re taking it slow. Trying not to rush anything and just get to know each other first. I think it could really be something, though.”

“That’s good,” Bucky mumbles. “You deserve something good.”

He isn’t meeting Tony’s eyes anymore, almost like he’s upset that Tony moved on, and the vindictive part of Tony wants to be happy about it, but another part wants to be angry because it isn’t fair. It’s not fair to act like Tony should stay stuck in time, forever longing for him when he already moved on with someone else first. It’s hypocritical and selfish, even if Tony is lying about there being anyone else.

“Well, I’m gonna go get a drink,” Tony says, pushing down every feeling. “Should catch up with everyone else, too, while I’m at it. I’ll talk to you later.”

He heads over to the bar and isn’t surprised when Sharon joins him a moment later, right after he orders a double shot of whiskey. She puts an arm around his shoulder and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tony laughs, running a hand through his hair. “My ex is engaged to somebody else and apparently doing really fucking well. Meanwhile, I’m making up fake boyfriends that I’m taking it slow with, because last week I went on my first real date in eight months and cried in the bathroom in the middle of it. And then, at the end of the night, he literally told me to my face that he didn’t think a second date was a good idea. We weren’t even talking about it, Sharon. He said it unprompted when we were still ten minutes from his apartment, and I was driving.”

Sharon nods slowly as she processes the rant. “He told you he got engaged?”

“Yeah, thanks for not telling me, by the way. It was really fun to get blindsided by it.”

She ignores the complaint to ask, “What else did he tell you, exactly?”

“Oh, just the whole line about how you know when you know, and Felix is such a great guy, and all that bullshit.”

“Felix,” Sharon repeats.

Tony knocks back the rest of his drink and orders another. “Please tell me he’s not better looking than me. Tell me it’s a downgrade. Don’t lie, because I know I have to meet him tomorrow, but please give me something that will make this better.”

“Well, I can guarantee he’s not as attractive as you. But he’s a little too perfect, you know? Like how could this guy possibly be real, he’s so unbelievably perfect,” Sharon says.

“I told you to make me feel better, not worse.”

Sharon shakes her head with a smile, the arm around him tightening into an approximation of hug. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I don’t think they’re going to last. He’s kind of flaky, too. Always cancelling at the last minute and all that. Bet he won’t even show tomorrow.”

The amusement on her face that she’s failing to hide confuses him. He’s starting to feel bad, though, for making the night about him when it should be about her and Nat.

Resolving not to dwell on it anymore, he squeezes the hand on his shoulder and says, “Alright, enough sad drinking, and definitely enough about me. We’re celebrating you and Nat and a lifetime of sickeningly wonderful happiness for both of you.”

Sharon grins, “Hell yeah, we are.”

“Shots?”

“Is that even a question?”

_____________

He wakes up with a headache and hazy memories. Shots of tequila that turned into shots of vodka when Nat got involved, then Clint’s terrible suggestion to try a shot of every liquor they had to offer. He vaguely remembers the round of toasts and drunken impromptu speeches from everyone, locking eyes with Bucky and failing to look away on both their parts. There’s a blur of wandering hands and heated, messy kisses. A bathroom stall turned into a cab ride which turned into his hotel room. He knows what he’ll find next to him when he opens his eyes, and guilt comes in full force.

“I know you’re awake,” Bucky says, voice still rough with sleep. It used to be Tony’s favorite sound in the world. “And I know we’re both sorry about what happened, but pretending to be asleep isn’t fixing nothin’.”

Tony shifts over to his back, and if there was any question before about what happened between them, the all too familiar ache in his body would answer it. He stares up at the ceiling to avoid the acres of bare skin on display next to him.

“You should probably leave,” Tony says to the walls. “I’m sure your fiancé is wondering where you are.”

“I doubt it.”

Tony puts an arm over his eyes, partly to block out the light that makes them ache and partly to hide his face. “Just go, okay? It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again, and we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Was it a mistake?” Bucky asks. “It didn’t feel like one to me.”

He doesn’t answer, and it’s soft and broken when Bucky says his name. Too much for him to handle.

Tony pushes back the blankets and searches for Bucky’s clothes in the mess they’ve made. He finds the shirt first and throws it at him. “You’re engaged, which means it was a mistake.”

His boxers are on the back of the couch, jeans right in front of the door, and they join the pile on Bucky’s lap. “You promised the rest of your life to somebody else, and I’m pretty sure fidelity is supposed to go with that.”

He tosses a shoe in the general direction of the bed, and it hits the nightstand with a loud thud. The second shoe is still in his hand when Bucky gets up and walks over to him, taking it and letting it drop to the floor.

His eyes hold a level of intensity that Tony has spent months dreaming about, and Tony couldn’t look away or move from this spot even if he tried.

“Felix isn’t real,” Bucky says. “I made him up when you asked, because I didn’t want to tell you the truth that I haven’t moved on in the slightest. That I’m so pathetic that I’ve spent the last eight months wearing an engagement ring that I bought for a guy who doesn’t love me anymore because I don’t know how to let him go.”

Tony stops breathing. “What?”

Bucky slides the ring from his finger, holding it between them so Tony can see the inscription. Always yours. He can’t remember the last time he heard the words get spoken.

“When?” Tony asks hoarsely. “When did you get that and why didn’t you ever ask me?”

“About a year ago,” Bucky says, slipping it back on his own finger. He sits back on the edge of the bed and stares down at it, twisting it around. “I thought about doing it on your birthday, but Nat and Sharon had just gotten engaged the week before and I didn’t want to take anything away from them. You were working a lot of late nights after that, and I thought it would be better to wait until things slowed down. You were so tired all the time, and you deserved a better proposal than when you’re falling asleep in the middle of dinner. It never slowed down, though. And then you got that big promotion and somehow we fell apart instead. If I’m honest, I still don’t really know how. One minute I’m getting ready to come with you, and the next you’re telling me not to bother.”

Tony sits down next to him, shoulders touching, and he pulls Bucky’s left hand into his. “You didn’t really want to go.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky says, but Tony shakes his head.

“All you talked about was how much you would miss New York. How much you’d miss your friends and your family and your job. Every day, everywhere we went. Even the fucking hot dog stands got sonnets about them. It really didn’t take a genius to figure out that you weren’t exactly looking forward to leaving.”

“I still would have gone for you,” Bucky argues. “I told you I would go anywhere with you, if it was what you wanted.”

“And then what? You move with me, and you’re miserable all the time, because my job never slows down so I’m still not around as much as you want, except now it’s compounded because you’re in a city that you hate with no one else that you know. You resent me for making you go, and the outcome is the same in the end either way.”

“Or I move with you, and I finally ask you to marry me like I’ve wanted to since almost the day we met. I find new friends and a new job, and even if it’s not perfect, it’s still worth it because at the end of the day I have a husband coming home to me.”

Tony runs his thumb over the ring and murmurs, “I wanted you to be happy. I didn’t think I could do that for you anymore.”

Bucky cups his cheek, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but baby, you’re an idiot.”

“Oh, thanks,” Tony laughs.

“You’re my idiot, if that helps.”

Tony smiles, still fragile but growing more hopeful. “Am I?”

“Always have been,” Bucky says. “Always will be if you stop assuming I’m going to leave you all the time. Let me decide for myself what I’m willing to sacrifice for us.”

Tony nods slowly, then says, “I’m sorry for ending it like that.”

“I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to.”

Tony climbs into his lap, circling his arms around his neck, and Bucky pulls him in closer with his hands on Tony’s hips. The ring is strange to feel against his skin, but also completely right. He wants it to stay there and to mean what it was always supposed to. Wants one of his own to match.

“We can fix it, right? We can be us again?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky says, and Tony’s heart sinks for just a moment. “Is your boyfriend as real as my fiancé?”

Tony laughs again in relief, “Yeah, they’d be a good pair.”

“I knew you had to be lying. You’ve never taken it slow in your life,” Bucky grins.

“Do you want me to start now?”

Bucky flips them over in one fluid motion, and he kisses up his throat as he murmurs, “Absolutely not.”

#my writing #my fic #winteriron #buckytony #winteriron fic #prompt fill #ad1thi

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therem-harth · 3 years

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For the meme! Norwegian Angelica, Pincushion, Pink, Primrose, Sunflower

Heyo! :)) Thanks for asking, and so many! I like sunflowers! And don't recognize any other flowers here! :D Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

Hmm, it's hard to be concise as I've had a complicated relationship with her to say the least. But I'm sort of trying to reach out intermittently (once in a couple months hah) again so that's something. But my mother is someone very in touch with nature and animals, she grew up in the countryside and is still very much a country girl as she now keeps goats, ducks, chickens, turkeys etc. She has told me that she has no need for antidepressants because she can just go to the forest, for example, which, well, shows both her medicine-hate and nature-love hah. She used to be very hardworking - she almost got a PhD in chemistry like my father but three kids and the house and a business was a bit too much to also write a thesis. Because of this and other things, she's.... currently I'd best describe her as horribly burnt out and depressed and self-depreciative. But she is easy to talk to, she will carry the conversation and she will tell her side eagerly and at least listen to yours - she both is probably lonely and has this need to be always presentable and talk to her family a bit like we're business partners she needs to convince which I used to hate, and she will tell you about how horrible she has it at the drop of the hat. When in a room with others, she will most often stay silent and listen, however, she used to say that she liked to just listen when me and siblings would talk. She has her own, mostly non-explicit ways of showing she cares, and you know, hey I managed to write a p alright summary that wasn't just unprocessed anger, yay for me. Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

Mm, I assume this deals with physical pain. I've been quite lucky thus far and have no chronic pains except the normal millenial achy knees sometimes. Since I already mentioned above that I grew up in a pretty anti-medicine household, I didn't use an ibumetin or paracetamol for anything not mirstamā kaite (dying sickness) until I was like... 19. So I just kinda, uh, waited it out I guess? Which is largely still the mode of action for me nowadays, though now I usually take ibumetin, that's about it. I always thought I deal with pain p well and have a high tolerance and I definitely am quite good at pushing myself through it when needed but really I'd rather I didn't have to feel that toothache while having to focus on the paper or smth. I actually had pretty strong period cramps a week or so ago that I usually don't get and then I just... took one ibumetin, finished off the research paper, took another ibumetin because holy shit, complained to friends, played assassins creed until the pain faded a bit and got back to studying :D Also re: mental pain, well, I've had 2 years of therapy to sort of help with that, and I find the thing that works most reliably to me is the schema therapy caring parent/vulnerable child thing, I just sorta. Listen to the pain and hear it and then console it. Be your own parent 2kforever.

Pink: Where is home?

Here!

It's quite a cozy flat in an... hm, middle class neighborhood, the owner never shows up and we just pay the rent in his debit card, he's chill with us paying it late and when our stove sort of implodes he comes and buys a new one! I also live with sis which is p great, since, as my therapist pointed out, we've been negotiating how to live in each other's spaces literally since birth so we know how to co-exist (I like my space perhaps more than others - I don't particularly enjoy having friends over and I like that we have sort of come to an arrangement of kitchen is talk space and our rooms are less so). I used to think I didn't get attached to places but now with potential talks of moving that didn't end up anywhere I got so afraid of losing this sense of stability, a place to jump from that I didn't have as solid before. It's my gremlin cave and yes there's mold growing in places that we're too lazy/tired to try to deal with, and sometimes we play chicken about who will cave and wash the dishes or take out the trash, but hey, it's my gremlin cave.

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

Hah, I've actually been on and off daydreaming about winning a million euros in lottery (a pal's gotta dream, alright :D). And then the scenario goes a bit like buy a house with a garden that me and sis and poosssibly my friends would live in, get a car and driving license, travel a bit, stop working at my current job and just vibe for a bit before either moving to the deep countryside and being a farmer or working in businesses as an anthropologist for sense of accomplishement. In the 99.99% case I do not win the lottery, however, I think working in a place where I can both excercise my brain and feel smart and appreciated about doing it would be great, I'm lowkey considering working as an anthropologist if I can wrangle a vacancy in some place. I think I'd like to either continue my slow, slow ventures into writing, or, since I've realized I'm pretty fucking amazing at realizing other's mistakes instead of my own and giving constructive criticism :D go into editing work. But who knows. I mostly want to get enough money to have a bit of property and a garden and be able to sometimes travel, and then a nice job is a luxury. Still sometimes thinking of moving just deep deep into the countryside and buying chickens. But I won't really make much money that way alas. Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without? Mm, well the obvious basics of a roof over my head and food in my tummy tum tum, but besides that, I'd probably say my friends. Be weird old people together. Even if I do move or somehow lose my current friends, I still want to make connections with close friends bc well I find them neat. I don't make a great lonely person.

#personal #a thing #sorry for the novel #but i had to decompress after my day it seems #it is sleeb time now #tomorrow is stressful as shit but afterwards it's smooth sailing baybe

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gerberbabey · 4 years

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euphoric | one | JJ Maybank

a/n: this post isn’t showing up in the tags and idk why😔😭

ive linked both the outfit and the makeup look, and will continue to do so in the future. this is mostly bc im not rlly good at being descriptive sorry 😔 . For the aesthetic and looks in particular i might link a lot of Cierra Nia, cus her vibe and fits are very much what i had in mind. (when it comes down to it a lot of the inspiration im going off of is very Kali Uchis, Princess Nokia, and SZA.)

ik that this kinda cuts into the inclusivity (w aesthetics and fashion sense at least, bc i understand that some of these outfits might not be smth other people are comfortable wearing), but even w the concept ill try my best to widen the range of outfits as i go forward

the chad bit is inspired by @yourlocalauthor

also... im lowkey loving Isaiah as a character and i might invest in him more than i planned to lmao.

summary: You get ready for dinner with the Cameron’s but you meet a certain Pogue instead.

masterlist | previous | next

warnings : cursing, lack of pogues and action (i gotchu next part tho), also terrible writing

one - ♫ Only in the West by Yeek ♫

After being told that you would be interacting with people in just a few short hours you’d rushed off to your designated room. Your parents were generous enough to leave name signs on the doors (likely for the movers to put your belongings in the correct rooms) and you tore yours off the front before you slipped into the room, closing the door and locking it behind you.

You took in the room for a moment. It was already pretty much furnished, just not decorated or arranged in a way that you would like it to be. Everything was just kind of there, from the bed sheets to the vanity that you actually couldn’t really complain about.

Your suitcases had been placed at the foot of the bed and you moved to open the one that contained your makeup. You transferred your makeup products onto the vanity before a buzzing at your waist made you pause.

“Oh shit,” you pulled your phone from where it was being held against you by the waistband of your shorts. The FaceTime caller ID had “that bitch maddy ” displayed at the top of the screen and you cringed because she was probably pissed that you hadn’t been responding to any of their texts. Pressing the answer button you pulled out the little seat of your vanity and leaned your phone against the mirror.

“Oh shit, she answered!” BB’s voice echoed out of the speaker of your phone and you let out a laugh.

“Are you serious dude, we’ve been trying to contact you for hours,” Maddy drawled out, clearly annoyed.

“I just got to the house Maddy.”

When it came to your group of friends, Maddy Perez was someone who constantly sought for attention. This wasn’t shit talk either, it was just the fact of it. You’d been friends with Maddy for nearly your whole lives and something that she loved was praise and attention. You were one of the few people who knew how to keep up with some of her antics. You were also one of the few people capable of calling her out on her shit without her lashing out at you for it (Although the topic of Nathaniel Jacobs was one she seemed to be especially hard headed on).

The girls started to talk over one another, Kat’s voice drowned by the energy of Maddy and BB. You nodded along as you moved around in preparation. You’d stripped off the top you had flown in, tossing it aside in irritation and instant relief as the sweat that was being trapped in by the fabric immediately began to be cooled by the touch of the air conditioned room.

“I mean what the fuck right?” Maddy concluded her story and you could only imagine Kat rolling her eyes.

“Maddy the longer you complain about Nathaniel the more I begin to tone you out,” you admitted and Kat let out a laugh.

“Daaaamn,” BB drawled out from somewhere off screen.

“What the fuck (Y/N) you’re supposed to be on my side,” Maddy was clearly angered by your comment, you could hear it in her tone.

“Babe I am on your side. I’m on your side no matter what the fuck that psycho does. I just really don’t need to hear about what he does because it doesn’t change anything,” you leaned in close to the mirror to focus on your eye make up. You looked over at your screen for a split second and from Maddy’s body language alone you knew you’d eased her irritation.

“So (Y/N) how’s North Carolina,” Kat question, emphasizing North Carolina with a misplaced old-time cowboy-like accent. You’d only spoken to the movers from earlier so far but people from North Carolina and the Outer Banks in particular didn’t seem to have a distinct type of accent.

“It’s…” you leaned back to look at yourself and shrugged, “sticky.”

“Sticky?” Kat laughed and Maddy let out a small ‘ew’.

“Yeah. Yeah it’s sticky.”

_____________

It took nearly two hours but you’d finished getting ready and damn did you look good. You’d ended the call with the girls after they showered you with compliments and sentiment and you find yourself letting out a heavy sigh to try and release the tension in your chest. You missed your friends. You missed being a short drive away from Maddy’s house. You missed Kat and BB laying around in your room arguing about one thing or another. You missed sleepovers at Cassie and Lexi’s house. You missed heading out to the gas station and talking to Fez and Ashtray (which was an experience mind you). You missed the suburbs and not being on an island all the way across the country.

You missed all of this and you hadn’t even been on this island for a day.

A knock on your door interrupted the growing weight you could feel throughout your body.

“(Y/N), are you ready? We’re gonna head out soon,” your mother’s muffled voice called to you and you nodded before realizing she definitely could not see you.

“Yeah I’m good just give me a second!” you called back.

“Ok,” her voice drifted off and you took one last look in the vanity mirror, concluding that you definitely needed a full body mirror in this room.

For tonight you were dressed to ensure the weather on the island knew it could fuck off. Maddy had pleaded for you to wear one of the dresses/outfits she’d gifted you at your farewell party (although you’d specifically told her not to get you anything, you also weren’t gonna complain about the amount of money she’d made Nate drop just to get you presents). So there you were, dressed in a dark purple, suede-textured, bra top with a long pleated skirt that was a lighter, softer shade of purple. You accessorized with two different chains hung around around your neck, a purple bucket hat, a small light purple shoulder bag, white socks bunched at your ankles and silver sneakers. The look was topped off with your makeup matching the purple color scheme.

Concluding that you were good to go, you made your way out of your room and then out of the house. You took in everything as you passed it, from boxes that were yet to be unpacked to new pieces of decorations your old house definitely did not have.

“Y’know sometimes I wonder how it feels to need to take 3 hours getting ready,” Isaiah drawled from where he was leaning against the car, scrolling through his phone. He’d dressed in some cutoff tan pants and a polo with a logo that you couldn’t make out on the left breast.

“It would really help you out,” you shot back and he scoffed.

“My look is effortless ok, I have natural beauty-”

“Oh, natural beauty bullshit-”

“I’m not the one with layers on my face-”

“Say that the next time you wanna use my face masks-”

“Ok ladies! You’re both absolutely gorgeous,” your mother interrupted your bickering as she made her way outside, “Do you wanna know how I know because you both got it from me,” she struck a pose and you let out a laugh while your brother rolled his eyes.

“(Y/N) are you not gonna bring a jacket?” your dad questioned as you slid into the car. You blinked at him before turning to Isaiah who shrugged.

“You’re not serious,” you stated and your jaw dropped at the serious look on your dad’s face, “Dad you can’t be serious, it’s so hot.”

“(Y/N) you’re not even wearing a shirt, it would give me peace of mind if you had something to cover yourself up.”

See now, while your family got along well, there always was something within families wasn’t there.Your dad’s opinions always seemed to clash heavily with you and your brother’s (yours especially). The man disapproved of Isaiah’s group of friends and lack of participation in sports. The man also disapproved of your friends (aside from Kat and Lexi) and heavily disapproved of your fashion sense and the outfits you tended to wear. He usually didn’t have to see any of the outfits you wore considering he was at work practically all the time, but he always had something to say when he was present.

“Man people are walking around shirtless and stuff dad it’s fine,” Isaiah tried to defend you.

“I wasn’t talking to you Isaiah.”

Your dad was also the only person who didn’t call you or your siblings by your nicknames.

Isaiah rolled his eyes.

“Ok ok, it’s fine,” you’re mother piped in, “here (Y/N), you can have this cardigan,” You gave her a look of disbelief and she only shot you a pleading one back. Her expression alone told you, ‘please, just leave it’. You grit your teeth and snatched the cardigan from her, slouching into your seat aggressively as your dad nodded and started the car. Bea continued to watch whatever show she had preoccupied herself with and from the corner of your eye you could see Isaiah’s hand clenching and unclenching on his lap. You couldn’t see his face but you wouldn’t doubt he was as pissed as you.

_______________

The Cameron house was packed with people.

Well, not the house itself, but their large backyard was crawling with people. When Bea had told you that you guys would be heading to the Cameron’s for dinner you thought it would’ve been with the Cameron’s and the Cameron’s alone.

“Welcome to your welcome party!” a man walked up to you and your family and you and Isaiah shared a look.

“Ward, you didn’t have to do all this,” your mother laughed and the man waved off her concerns before giving her a hug in greeting.

“This was the least I could do for my new business partners. Now, this must be the (L/N) kids,” the man, Ward, turned to the three of you and Bea stepped up with the confidence that surpassed you and your brother’s.

“Hi I’m Bethany, but everyone calls me Bea!” she introduced and Ward let out a joyful chuckle.

“Nice to meet you Bea, I’m Ward Cameron. I work with your daddy.”

“I know,” Bea said matter of factly.

“Oh, well then, it’s still great to meet you. And you two are…?” He trailed off offering a hand out for your brother. Isaiah stepped forward, taking his hands out of his pockets and shaking his hand firmly.

“Isaiah,” he greeted with a nod and Ward nodded back.

“Then you must be (Y/N),” Ward guessed and you nodded with a polite smile.

“It’s great to meet you three. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you kids,” Ward praised and you tried not to roll your eyes. There was no way your dad was bragging about his kids and you assumed your mom just talked about your antics. She loved talking about your guys’s antics. Bea was likely the only one who actually got any praise from either of your parents at this point.

“Well there’s food on those tables, take as much as you want. Seconds, thirds, go crazy,” Ward motioned to the long tables displayed with food, buffet style, “Bea there’s a few kids over there who I know would love to make a new friend,” Bea ran off at that, “and you two. My daughter Sarah and my son Rafe are somewhere over there with some others your guys’s age. I know you guys definitely don’t wanna hang around when the old people start talking,” Ward laughed and your parents chuckled while you tried to hide your wince with a smile.

Ward ushered your parents off, leaving you and Isaiah to stand awkwardly looking over the crowd of people.

“Wanna go get food?” Isaiah offered and you nodded eagerly.

_____________

Kiara was on enemy territory. If there was one thing she definitely had not wanted to do, it was go to a Kook party (in Sarah Cameron’s house nonetheless) to welcome a new Kook family, but her parents practically threatened her. Now she was here, trying to avoid all the Kooks (i.e Sarah) while her parents mingled with other parents. Kie had done a pretty good job slipping off so that she wasn’t forced to talk to any one and was sitting on a chair that was basically hidden away from the rest of the crowd.

‘SOS. god pls get me out of here’ She texted her group chat with the other Pogues and threw her head back in irritation as she waited for a response.

“Y’know I think I just saw Chad, Brad, Tanner, and Hunter over there,” a voice she didn’t recognize startled her and Kie looked up as you and a tall boy made your way over to the spot she’d claimed. You were laughing, your cardigan sliding off your shoulders and both of you had a plate of food each.

“Yeah, they’re waiting for their homeboys Bryce, Brock, and Tucker,” you shot back and the boy barked out a laugh.

Kie smiled as she caught onto the jokes you guys were making. Yet her smile dropped as she realized that from your unfamiliar faces and your unique sense of style she could tell you two were two of the new kids from the new family. Aka the new Kooks who moved into Figure 8. Kiara’s phone buzzed and she looked down at it.

‘want us to crash?’ Pope had responded, though from how it was worded, Kie could bet that JJ had sent the message.

As down as she was for that, her parents were in attendance and they’d probably ban her from ever seeing her friends again (not that something like that would stop her).

“Hey uh,” Kiara jumped and looked up, making eye contact with you and your brother, “Oh shit sorry, we were just wondering if we could sit here?”

“Yeah no, go ahead,” Kiara motioned to the empty chairs.

“Thanks,” you smiled at her and Kiara admired your makeup now that you were much closer.

“I’m Isaiah by the way, but call me Zaya,” Isaiah raised his hand before motioning to you, “This is my sister, (Y/N).”

“I’m Kiara, but most people call me Kie,” Kie introduced and you and your brother nodded. Kiara’s phone buzzed again, drawing attention to it.

‘kie want us to come get u?’ John B texted. Kie quickly picked up her phone so she could respond, she glanced between her phone and you and Isaiah before deciding.

‘nah it’s ok’

‘?’ was the immediate response from Pope and Kie could almost hear the confusion.

‘met the new kids. theyre cool so far’

‘If you say so. But jj says dont fall for it’

Kie rolled her eyes but could understand the sentiment. She told them not to worry about it before putting her phone off to the side. You and your brother had started a different conversation while Kie had been otherwise preoccupied. Kie watched and listened to you two talk, justifying that it wasn’t eavesdropping since you’d come and sat with her in the first place.

“That sounds dumb but ok,” you offered and Isaiah scoffed.

“I mean I looked up if there was one around here but there isn’t so what else am I gonna do.”

“Sorry, what isn’t here?” Kie interrupted, curious about the context of the topic. Isaiah glanced at you before turning to Kie.

“Skate park,” he answered, “There isn’t one in the Outer Banks so I could just street skate, but there’s nowhere to drop in. But I was also thinking of just going somewhere and bombing a hill.”

Kie wondered if she was losing her mind. She knew there wasn’t a skate park on the island, the closest one was on the mainland. Most people who skated rode on longboards rather than actual skateboards and as far as she knew most people in the OBX just preferred to surf. But what had lost her was “drop in” and “bombing a hill”.

“Closest skate park’s on the mainland,” Kie confirmed and your brother seemed to deflate.

“You skate?” You questioned and Kie shook her head.

“I’m a surfer. Not much to do when you live out here,” she joked.

“No shit?” you asked and Kie looked up in thought but shrugged.

“Well me and my friends, we usually either surf, or we go out to the marsh. We swim, drink, smoke. Either out at the marsh or just at my friend, John B’s, house. Sometimes we throw keggers. Have bonfires. We usually know how to occupy our time,” Kie wondered why she was speaking to these two so comfortably.

“Parties?” Isaiah questioned and Kie winced.

“Aside from keggers, people on the Cut don’t really throw house parties. The Kooks are always throwing stuff like this though,” Kie nodded over to the event that was meant to welcome you and your family in the first place. You glanced back at the party/gathering that you’d practically forgotten about. Since you’d arrived you and your brother actively avoided interacting with the teenagers all dressed like they were pledged into Kappa Beta Who Gives a Shit.

“Sorry, Kooks?” Isaiah questioned.

“Oh um...Kooks are like the rich people, anyone who lives in Figure 8. Boarding schools, trust fund money, private tutors,” Kie explained.

“So...we’re Kooks? Because we live out here?” you questioned incredulously. Kie nodded her head and you raised a brow. Sure, you weren’t poor, you’d already established that. Back in California you lived just a few houses down from Cal Jacobs, who owned practically the entire town. You acknowledged that you were definitely more financially privileged than some people, but you’d never had the luxury of going to a private school (shoutout to East Highland) or having a private tutor. And even with as much money as your parents seemed to make, the idea of a trust fund was laughable.

“OBX is kinda split. John B always described it like...two tribes, one island,” Kie smiled as you and your brother gave her deadpanned expressions, “So y’know who the kooks are, but the other half are the Pogues. Basically the bottom of the food chain. Pogues live on the Cut, the poorer side of the island. Kooks and Pogues don’t really get along.”

“I’m gonna be completely honest with you, that’s like the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” you stated bluntly.

“Wait is this like...Soc’s versus Greasers? Like The Outsiders?” Isaiah questioned and Kie’s eyebrows furrowed at the comparison.

“You're telling me your whole island follows basic labelling like it’s an 80s high school movie?” you questioned in a state of shock and all Kie could do was nod. Kooks and Pogues and even Tourons were just something people knew growing up in the Outer Banks. She’d never really let it sink that other people probably found the concept ridiculous.

“Do you have bad experiences with...Pogues or something,” you questioned and Kie shook her head firmly.

“Nah, I’m no Kook. They’re entitled, narcissistic, assholes.”

“So you’re a Pogue? Then why are you here?” Isaiah laughed and Kie slumped in her seat.

“My parents forced me here. I go to school with these assholes...but I’d never be like them,” Kie shook her head as she caught sight of kids she recognized from the Kook academy. Her family was less upper class, and more working middle class if she really thought about it. Unlike a lot of the highly privileged Kooks, Kie knew what it was like to need to work for the money they had.

“So then how’s being a Pogue going for you exactly?” you questioned. Deep down you knew that you probably shouldn’t have been entertaining this whole Kook vs. Pogue thing but you’d also never encountered an entire county of people that was so blatantly classist.

“Literally great. I surf all day, I get to hang with my friends. The best part is that it’s away from all of...this,” Kie motioned to the crowd that you had separated yourselves from, “Speaking of, we’re actually having a kegger tomorrow. Would you guys be down to come?” Kie looked between you and your brother.

“Uh yes, please,” you were quick to answer and Kie laughed, “Honestly I was preparing myself for the most boring fucking summer of my life, but I’m really glad we met you,” you admitted.

“Definitely won’t beat back home though,” Isaiah mentioned and you groaned. The thought of missing all the parties that were probably being thrown back in California made you frustrated.

“Man don’t remind me.”

“You guys moved here from California right?” Kie asked so that she could keep herself in the loop. It wasn’t hard to pick up that you and your brother tended to go off into little conversations of your own but she understood that it was probably because neither of you knew Kie and therefore didn’t know what to bring up in conversation. Kie was an extroverted person but this was something she noticed Pope doing a lot.

“Yeah, LA actually,” Isaiah confirmed, “Definitely not ‘Paradise on Earth,’ but...”

“There’s no place like the Outer Banks,” Kie said, though the sarcasm dripped from her entire being.

“Meh,” you shrugged off with a tone of disinterest and Kie laughed wholeheartedly.

_________

The three of you ended up talking for the entirety of the night. Kie was determined to stay completely hidden away from the rest of the party’s residents, meaning she had kept herself planted in her chair for quite literally the entire time you guys were there. Isaiah, being how he was, had gotten up a few times to get more food or to grab something new to drink. He had come back with something for Kie each time.

Kie was interesting, she led the conversation a majority of the time and constantly kept it flowing. You appreciated someone who could work past awkwardness and still keep up a conversation. You ended up exchanging phone numbers and social media and had talked about a whole lot of shit; from keggers, to your outfit, to how moving felt. Isaiah and Kie had even gone on a pretty long debate about music, (something about the top 5 albums of all time, or was it how meaningful a playlist was? or maybe it was about whether it was ok to separate an artist’s actions from their music?).

Kie was a down to earth, do shit for herself, actions speak louder than words kind of girl. She spoke her mind about everything she was passionate about and though you weren’t preaching about sea life and turtles, you could obviously understand where she came from with her frustrations, you’d just never really met anyone who was so deeply passionate about it.

The feeling of your phone vibrating against your leg took your attention off of Kie.

“Hello?” you answered it and Kie paused.

“(N/N)! Where are you?!” Bea’s voice screeched and you furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance.

“I’m with Zaya, we’re sitting by like some trees, I don’t know.”

“Mom says we’re leaving right now!”

“Bea stop yelling,” you said firmly, “Ok, we’ll just meet you guys by the car then.”

“Ok!” your sister yelled and before you could snap at her she ended the call. You shook your head and put your phone into your bag.

“We leaving?” Isaiah asked and you nodded as you gathered yourself and your belongings. Kie began to clean up as well, standing up and helping you and your brother out while you gathered up the empty water bottles and cans of soda. Now that Kie was standing you could see that she was actually a little taller than you originally thought.

“It was really nice meeting you Kie,” you said sincerely and Kie smiled. After the three of you cleaned up she helped lead you guys toward the front of the house without having to deal with whoever was left over at the party. You wondered for a moment about how she was pretty familiar with the layout of the home.

“I’ll see you guys at the kegger tomorrow?” Kie asked.

“Uh, where’s that gonna be again?” you questioned as you spotted your family’s car.

“Oh it’s on the Boneyard,” Kie explained and you only stared at her blankly, “Ummm, y’know what. I could just pick you guys up?”

“Yeah for sure,” Isaiah said and you tried not to think about how weird it was going to be arriving at a party at the same time as your brother. That was something you tended to avoid doing when you were back home considering you usually went with your friends.

You and your brother bid Kie goodbye. You’d never been the type of person to initiate hugging, so when she gave the two of you a wave you found yourself just waving back awkwardly.

Now you were settled in the car, heading back home after a ridiculously tiring day. Bea was going off on a tangent about one thing or another and Isaiah had fallen asleep, wedged rather uncomfortably against the car door. You were texting in your group chat, telling them all about Kie, Kooks, Pogues, and everything in between.

You wondered if you could finally get a dog.

taglist: @sspidermanss

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zwiezraczek · 4 years

Note

Hellooo!:) can you do 5, 8, 9, 11 &19 with Ben pleaseee? Smth really angsty with fluff at the very end? and don’t worry, take your time:D loove your writing💚

You Should Be Sad [Blurb]

5. “Look at me love, please.” 8. “... Why are you doing this to me?” 9. “You are definitely drunk.” 11. “You're driving me crazy, you know that?” 19. “I spent all my years praying for this moment to come!”

~~~

Dating Ben was probably your biggest mistake from the very beginning. But the best decision album-making wise. The rage he had woken up inside of you fueled every song you wrote for this album, every word, everything. All about him – but you refused to admit it. Everywhere you went, you were reminded of him, of your relationship. Of your love. Something long gone now, it has been almost six months. Six long months, of crying, cursing and desperately wanting him to come back. You were so over this now, at least you thought, you tried to convince yourself you were.

“Y/N, this album is absolutely amazing, and contains so much energy,” the interviewer said, as you sat legs crossed on the red couch with a smile on your face.

“Thank you, I'm glad you like it!”

“But as you know, a question is on everybody's lips as they heard one particular song,” they said, as you already knew what question it would be. The same question you were facing everyday, trying to hold back tears and pride. “'You Should Be Sad', this country inspired song, is it about a past relationship of yours as we all believe it to be?”

“Well, my dear, I will say yes and no,” you lied, you absolutely did but for the greater good. You remembered how the media dragged you down after your breakup, catching pictures of you wearing a black hoodie, puffy eyes and in a mental hell. They stole your privacy, they stole these moments of intimacy you only 'wanted' to share with the ones you cared about, you wanted them to see you like this, and only them. Not your fans. No the media.“It's heavily inspired by what had happened to me a few months ago, with somebody I won't mention in this interview because it's unprofessional, as my manager told me, and it deals with my self-esteem issues that I try to overcome. Because I feel sorry for him letting me go, but it's a hard life as they say.” You smiled, your nails drumming on the armrest of the red couch looking carefree but deep inside, you tried to not break down. Not again.

~~~

You enjoyed yourself, dancing to the beat of the music with Ben, but not only him, Ben and his friends coming especially to London to celebrate the premiere of the movie he got the main role in. The premiere was yesterday, and today you were partying, you, Ben, Joe and Lucy. The others, Gwilym and Rami were quite busy and only came to the premiere yesterday, on which you appeared holding Ben's hand in this long peach puffy dress and a smile on your face because he did it, your boyfriend did it and you couldn't feel more proud about his achievement. A boy you watched on Eastenders a few years ago was holding your hand right now, kissing it gently under the flashes as he held you closer and you burst into a pure laughter. You felt happy and alive. You couldn't know that these were probably the lasts moments of your peaceful love affair.

Joe was your soulmate, and so was Lucy. Both of them knowing how to party, as much as you did. The songs in the club made you ecstatic, pulsing and carefree. Ben danced with you too, but he mostly stayed at the bar, a beer in hand and sometimes went out to light up a cigarette while you still danced with Joe or Lucy. At one moment, he came back, his hands wandering on your hips and his alcohol scented breath warming your neck as you giggled.

“Mr. Jones is dancing? What a surprise,” you said into his ear, facing him with both of your hands on his shoulders. You could forget about the world all around you because he was your world.

“Because you're driving me crazy, you know that,” he asked and you quickly kissed him before nodding.

“That's what your local singer is here for, Benny. To drive you crazy even more than anybody would.”

“Is this allowee? Disgusting,” you heard behind you, Joe. Joe stood there, looking at both of you while tapping Lucy's shoulder.

“I agree,” she replied, making a funny face before Ben turned back to look at them and sighed.

“Killjoys,” Ben said before leaving a kiss on your cheek, “I'm going out for a cigarette.”

“Yeah, go out and smoke, your lungs will thank you later,” Joe shouted as Ben just rolled his eyes before disappearing in the crowd.

But he seemed to never come back, which began to annoy you. And so, you left Joe and Lucy at the bar to go out and look for your boyfriend. The biggest error of your life. You pushed the door leading to the smoking area, and what you saw you couldn't unsee. Ben was facing a girl, her back against the wall as he blocked her with his right hand, his forehead against hers. She smiled, seeming to enjoy the moment. And the next thing you knew, she kissed him. You couldn't tell if he was fine with it, if he was too drunk, or if she was responsible for all of that. But all you knew was that he was, right in front of your eyes, cheating on you.

“What the fuck,” you blurted and they stopped kissing immediately. She still had her hand on Ben's cheek as he looked at you, frightened, understanding now what he had done to you, to your relationship.

“Y/N,” he began, taking off the girl's hand from his cheek.

“Fuck. You,” you replied, pushing the door again and making your way outside the club, running towards the cloakroom where you left your purse and going out the club. Tears began to run down your face as you thought about what he did to you, how much he hurt you by kissing somebody. You were in pain, under the sky full of stars. You walked slowly, your bag against your side, sobbing delicately and hoping that no paparazzi would catch thismoment. You couldn't hear the footsteps behind you, and it only struck you when a heavy hand landed on your shoulder and you turned back to face him. Ben. You looked at him, eyes full of rage as he tried to prevent you from walking.

“Look at me love, please,” he whispered and you did what he asked for. But without any trace of love in your eyes, you felt rage and anger. You wanted to kill him, you wanted to kill that girl, you wanted to be at peace.

“I'm looking at you now, so? Tell me something to amuse me,” you wittily replied, but it hurt so much.

“I'm so sorry, y/n, I don't know what happened to me I just,” he began to explain himself, but you couldn't hear what he was saying, the image of him kissing her coming back in loops in your mind.

“Why are you doing this to me,” you asked him, cutting him off mid-sentence. “I'm not enough? I'm not filling the hole in your fucking heart, I wasn't enough? You needed some adrenaline and to kiss a girl?”

“It's not that, y/n, I...”

“You liked it,” you asked, your eyes shinning with tears as he remained silent. “Did you like it?” You repeated more violently this time. “Is she a better kisser than I am? Will she be herefor you? I hope she'll be fucking better than me in bed, Ben. I truly hope you'll have a better life without me.”

“Without... You,” the surprise was covering his whole face. He couldn't understand the words you told. He refused to understand. But you were clear, even if it hurt.

“You'll be able to live without me I guess, I'm packing my things and leaving tonight.” It was your decision, you didn't want to hear his excuses, you didn't want to hear his voice begging for forgiveness when he would sober up a bit.

“You can't leave,” he whispered, his hand slowly slipping from your shoulder.

“Yes, I can. Goodbye Ben.”

You turned back, silently crying as you walked down the street. It was all over now.

~~~

And you broke. Again. Once you reached your apartment, you began to cry. The decision you made on that night pained you immensely. And everytime you tried to put together all the feelings you had towards what had happened, the remaining feelings you had for Ben, you had to cry. You would sit under a blanket, looking at the white ceiling as you tried to not cry and to think about something else. And everytime you grabbed your phone, you sawpictures of you and him. Your Instagram's timeline wasn't better than your storage, neither the tweets talking about wanting the two of you to be back together. You wished all never ended like this, you wished you listened to him instead of fleeing. You wished so many things... You were only thankful for Lucy being on your side while talking with you, she called you often to know how you were feeling, and often, you lied. Joe called sometimes too, you lied too. You thought you could feel better after some time, after parties, after writing your album and pouring all your emotions into it... But it all made it worse. You blocked him on every social media, and his phone number, but you caught yourself looking at his account more often than usual, smiling when Joe posted a picture of both of them on vacation. You wished you could be part of his life, but you didn't let him be, you refused any explanation. You refused this, only to be sad. You wished he was sad, but you were the one suffering instead.

Your telephone rang, an unknown number. You wiped the tears away and picked up.

“Y/N,” the voice you perfectly knew asked faintly.

“What do you want,” you said strongly, faking the confidence you lacked. It was easier through this device.

“I can't live without you, I can't,” he complained as you heard the tune of his voice: he was drunk.

“You are definitely drunk Ben, don't call me while you're drunk. Don't call me at all.”

“Y/N,” he cried out to not let you hang up, “please, let me tell you something and then I'll leave you forever if you wish. I promise I'll leave you,” he whispered and you hummed to let him speak. “I don't know how many times I told you that I'm sorry, but I have to tell it again. I'm sorry, y/n, I'm sorry about everything I did to you, about the pain I caused to you, about everything. I was drunk, but that's no excuse, I'm drunk right now and I know that's not an excuse, I just... I lost it all. I lost everything on that night. I lost you. I already told you that, but I've felt empty for the last six months, I felt every hour passing by, without you. I'm not half the man I think I am, I'm not worth of your attention, I probably never was in the first place. I wanted, and still want to marry you. I spent all my life praying for this moment to come! To find my wife! And I screwed it up,” he whispered after pouring all of his emotions into your ear. “So I beg you, with my whole heart, I beg you, can we talk, can we meet? Tomorrow? Tonight? Whenever you want, I want to apologize for everything in person because I couldn't, because I am coward because...”

“Tomorrow, in the studio. There will be nobody around noon, so come if you wish,” you said, before hanging up. Then, you burst into tears. And you couldn't put your finger on the emotions you felt.

~~~

You sat in the studio, all by yourself, with a large sweater on you, curled up on the couch. You waited for him to show up, and the first thing you saw when the door in front of you opened, was a great bouquet of flowers. The biggest you ever saw, the most beautiful bouquet you saw in your whole life. And then, you saw him and his eyes. These beautiful eyes, tired, looking at you apologetically. You straightened on the couch, sitting properlynow and waited for him to sit next to you, but instead he knelt in front of you, offering you the bouquet, his head looking down.

“No apologize will be enough, nothing will be enough to repair my fault, not this apologize neither the ones I presented to you before.” And indeed, these were countless, but you always refused. And he gave up, for almost two months before calling you yesterday. “I am sorry for hurting you, I never wanted to cheat on you, I never intended to break the relationship we shared. I am so sorry, y/n, I hope you will forgive me.”

“Ben, I...” You started, but you couldn't finish your sentence properly, crying already as he rose his head to look at you. You saw all his features, blurry, through the curtain of yourtears. “I miss you so much, I miss you so much Ben... There is no day on which I don't think about you, and even that stupid album I made... I wanted you out of my life with this album, but singing about you made it even more difficult Ben, believe me...”

“I can only imagine what you felt,” he said, putting the bouquet next to you and grabbing your hand, hesitantly. But you didn't took it from his. “I can't live without you, without yourvoice and your songs, I can't live without you humming as you were trying to cook something in the kitchen, I can't live without your smile... And yes, I was sad as I should have been, I felt pain and anger towards myself and I regret everything I did. I missyou, and I still love you, y/n.” He kissed your hand gently. And you caressed his cheek. “Will you forgive me one day,” he asked, unsure of anything.

“I'm already forgiving you Ben, I'm already doing it...”

~~~

(Tumblr refused to let me put these tags and to show my post in the "ben hardy" tag so... Well... Here I am)

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy blurbs #blurb

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seijch · 4 years

Text

send me selfship questions!!

for @raevaioli because i wrote too much the first time and didnt have space to answer everything else 🧍🏻‍♂️

(there’s a lot of shit under the cut NDJKDKS be Warned)

1. where was your first date?

well, youve already heard about the first date that we realized was indeed A Date with futakuchi, but my first Proper Date with him would have to be somewhere like an arcade where we can have fun but still talk?? personally movie (theater) dates aren’t good first dates bc you Have to stay silent until the movie is over?? what’s the APPEAL...

there’s a shared exhale of relief as the large stuffed pokemon gets dropped by the crane into the pickup zone. “i can’t believe you pulled that off,” i tell him.

“you know, just for that, i’m keeping it.”

“you don’t even like pokemon! what happened to ‘this one’s for you, baby?’” i ask, voice dropping an octave to imitate him.

“i never said that, first of all. second of all,” he continues, grip tightening on the rowlet, “i won it. so it’s mine.”

“you fucking suck.”

(he says all this, yet when he drops me off, he insists i take the rowlet with me and name it after him. i graciously oblige, dubbing it coochie jr.)

when it comes to kuroo, he probably Says it’s some kind of unplanned affair but it ends with him unloading a picnic basket as we watch the sun set bc he’s a SAP... hate that fool 😔

“you’ve got good taste in music,” i tell him as the next song on his playlist begins. he’s definitely planning something, but i don’t say anything as his driving becomes less aimless.

“oh, i know,” he grins. “good enough for you to ask me for recommendations, i’d say.”

i’m crossing my arms before his sentence gets to finish. “listen,” i start, “you can’t tell me it didn’t work. we’re together now, aren’t we?” he doesn’t choose to grace that with a response.

before we know it, kuroo’s parked the car. “we’re here.”

“here? at the park? what are you gonna do, hold my hand while we watch the sunset?” i tease, getting out of the car. he doesn’t respond. “tetsu?”

“you really think you know me, don’t you?” he appears from the other side, picnic basket in hand and a resigned smile on his face. “what do you suggest we do now that my surprise has been torn to shreds, hm?”

“i mean...can we still eat? i’m kinda hungry.” i point to the basket. (i’m clearly deflecting ,, i was Not expecting kuroo the simp to jump out so early and my heart Cannot Take It)

2. who normally plans the dates?

between me and futakuchi i’m going to say none of us! we don’t really go on Dates dates, it’s just Us Hanging Out !! with kuroo, at first it’s him tbh but after we get comfortable everything becomes a date... idk tbh i’m not the type to sweat that kind of thing 🕺🏻 i do like to Go Out and do things w my s/o no matter who they are but a date doesn’t always have to be going out nor does it have to be a Special going out yk??

3. what kind of dates would you two mostly go on? do you have a “date spot?”

i mentioned this in my answer for 24, but w kuchi we have this ritual of going out to eat every friday and after we get together that doesn’t change!!! if we’re feeling extra lazy we might order takeout but we always always spend our friday nights together... it’s def smth we look forward to even Before we start dating (and it’s smth we both wonder Why we anticipate before we get tgt)

in terms of a date spot? we have our favorite places (like the ramen joint i mentioned in 24) but other than that maybe a few other restaurants and that’s kinda it! our other dates are the occasional study date but i cannot study when he’s around,, just looking at his face pisses me off 😃 nah but we can’t focus on school together + we’d get heated over a meaningless argument and get kicked out NDNSJSJ

when we get domestic w each other (like in uni or beyond) kuroo and i have all our dates at the grocery store... idk abt you but the INTIMACY of buying groceries w someone you love is so [clenches fist] yk?? but before and sometimes after that point rlly it’s like Things To See and Things To Do whenever kuroo puts himself in charge of planning it bc he knows we both like to be engaged and have fun!! (i alr said it but our date spot is the grocery store <3)

4. what kind of date do you think the both of you would enjoy the most? why?

that’s a very good question... i mentioned it alr but kuroo and i vibe heavy w things that are engaging and give us things to talk about while we keep busy,, like maybe an amusement park or smth w all the rides (we’re definitely spinning the shit out of the teacups) mostly bc i think he likes being kept on his toes and i do too! i think we’d challenge each other to do better by setting an example for the other to follow just in general,, also ngl places w a lot of ppl are good too so we can peoplewatch,, the two of us are the type to read people with a glance and when we need downtime we’d sit down somewhere and just kinda . 👁👁 yk

“i might barf,” i announce, gait crooked from the dizzying ride.

“no, you won’t,” kuroo replies, allowing me to drape myself over him though he’s not walking straight either. “didn’t you hear? vomitting is banned in this country and thirteen others.”

“a shame. anyway, let’s go on the pirate ship ride next.”

(we sit at the outer edge. it’s not a good time for the folks in the two seats in front of us. we wipe our vomit—mostly my vomit—from the corners of our mouths and apologize profusely.)

when it comes to kuchi, i think he’d like smth where we would end up competing against each other! i mentioned this when i answered question 50, but kenji and i are almost TOO competitive over stupid shit so smth like laser tag (where everyone is like ... why don’t you want to work together aren’t you DATING) would be SO fucking fun

“it’s not too late to surrender,” he simpers, my body sandwiched between his and the wall. my gun’s been knocked out of my hand—that’s gotta be against the fucking rules—and part of me feels like i’m on a real battlefield, as fleeting the thought is. “some battles, you just can’t win.” he punctuates this statement with a sage nod, leaning so close his breath fans against my face. “so, what’ll it be?”

i close the gap, pressing my lips against his and relishing in the strangled groan that comes from the back of his throat as he reciprocates, free hand moving to the nape of my neck. the hand holding the gun drops. that’s all the opening i need.

i let him deepen the kiss, take his bottom lip between my teeth and gently tug as my hands reach for his gun while his brain is still between his legs.

aim. fire.

i’m the last one standing, and the lights turn on around us. “it’s always good to have goals,” i tell him, granting him a consolation peck to the lips. “but i suggest making them more realistic next time.”

9. what do you think your first impression of them would be?

now THIS is a question i knew the answer to going in bc my best friend (honestly she doesn’t get paid enough ,, or at all ,, for all the shit she has to put up w from me NDNSKSK) had to hear all abt my elaborate fantasies regarding these two but!!

my first impression of kuroo is 1) 😳😳 and more importantly, 2) I Want To Know What He’s About... bc he’s not the kind of person i’d get the full picture of w just one look and maybe a few words spoken? he’d pique my interest a LOT (and this is smth he shares w tsukishima, tho i don’t see myself in a long lasting relationship w him like i do w kuroo and kuchi!) and i’d end up worming my way into his life whether he likes it or not until i find out :-)

unlike kuroo i see kenji and go Wow. What An Asshole. ok no i don’t NDNSJSN i probably think he’s cute first THEN go what an asshole and there’s definitely a long period of time where we’re genuinely getting on each other’s nerves before it goes into the romantic relationship-adjacent dynamic you see in my answer to 24!

10. what do you think their first impression of you would be?

kuroo’s definitely curious. i don’t imagine him being unable to see thru me from the start but i prove myself to be Good Conversation so he’s fine (and ends up being more than fine) with me bothering him as much as i do. kenji probably sees me the way i think most people see me at first? very soft and sweet ,, and then he tries to rile me up, tries to test the waters and pretty quickly finds out that right under the nice girl is someone that won’t hesitate to mirror the shit he tries to dish out.

(again) 24. would you confess first or would they? how would it have gone?

i saw you said in the tags you wanted to see the kuroo one so here it is 🤝 i had all my fun writing kenji’s so this one is shorter than that but!!!

NDNSNSN anyway !!! with kuroo it’s kinda 50/50 bc i’m not shy when it comes to my feelings but at the same time i like to have the lowest chances possible for failure when it comes to things like this... but i simp SO heavy for him so lbr it’ll prob be me just bc i literally Cannot pretend that my intentions are platonic anymore and he’s not gonna do it first (later i find out he was trying to see how long he could go before one of us mentioned the elephant in the room)

(5:38 PM) me: anyway for the weekly song rec

(5:38 PM) me: khalid ft. john mayer - outta my head

(5:39 PM) me: specifically 1:16-1:25 :-)

the messages have sent before i can think twice or even consult anyone about it. there’s a beat of silence. then two. then three. i throw my phone down onto the bed as it bounces off the mattress and onto the carpet.

what the fuck!!!!!! bitch why did you do that!!!!!!!

there’s no taking it back now. he reads it ten minutes after it sends (not like anyone’s checking, that would be preposterous). the picture i took of him mid-sneeze two months ago lights up the screen, a facetime call from shithead 👺 bringing me to yet another crossroads. do i answer it and face the music (literally), or do i pretend to have been busy and act as though i didn’t just confess to one of my best friends through text and with music, of all things?

i pick up the call.

“i liked the song,” he says as soon as the call opens, “though i can’t help but wonder if there was a hidden meaning to it.”

“and if i told you there was?”

“well,” he replies, sounding a little out of breath (where is he?), “i’d tell you to open your door because i’m outside.”

true enough, when i race downstairs and open the door, he’s waiting for me. “and if i told you that was my way of asking you to be my boyfriend?”

“well, i think i’d want to ask if i could kiss you. assuming, of course, it was alright to do something like that so soon-“

he doesn’t finish his sentence. his lips are a little bit chapped, but pleasant nonetheless, and i tuck the newfound fact away in my file of things i know about kuroo tetsurou.

(for reference, the song lyrics for the part i mention are can you feel the tension / you’ve got my attention / i know we’re just friends but / i’d rather be together instead)

#💘 selfship #also both ari and my real name are Not good names to make ship names out of but????#and its not like kuchi and kuroo are ideal for ship names either so im rlly at a loss NSNDJSJ #excuse how Long it took me to answer this i had to go to work before i could even brainstorm 😔#nd yes...if i ask a man for music recs im 90% up to smth i Admit #BYE I PROMISE I LOVE KUROO LIKE IM IN LOVE WITH HIM BUT THE FUTAKUCHI BRAINROT... SO STRONG #fun fact i actually asked someone out using the song i mention in kuroos confession scene 😃#this is also called ari overuses the italics function 😃#anyway im sure im forgetting to say a lot of shit but ill cross that bridge when i get there :-)#thank you again for asking raenah NDNSMSM #also after having given it some Thought i think kuri would be half decent for kuroo??#for futakuchi ... god i hate this slimy bastard i can’t think #maybe chika w the ka coming from my real name 👁#i’ve never been huge on portmanteau names but . if i had to pick i would choose those

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cptn-stvngrntrgrs · 5 years

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Prompt! Natasha meets Steve's mother, Sarah, in a vision after a mission bc she got injured or smth. "Watching you and my son from up here has got to be the most frustrating thing to watch. Both of you are stubborn and dont realize what you have right now could be something more."

holy shit anon. this is a couple months too late, i’m so sorry!!! thank you for this prompt though - i truly had fun with it!!! here you go~~!!!

Title: I Had A Dream; Your Mother Knows

Relationship: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff

Natasha needed a nudge and who else better give it to her than Sarah Rogers herself?

set sometime after CACW and before Infinity War.

Okay, I know the title are two ABBA songs but there’s nothing else related to ABBA in this fic; I just happened to be listening to the Mamma Mia soundtrack while thinking of a title lol

There are bad missions and there’s bad missions.

This one happens to fall into the latter category, Natasha noticed, a little bit too late. They were tracking down a major supplier of illegal Chitauri weapons deep in the rural countryside. Sam was in charge of flying their jet while Steve and Wanda took down the dealers as a distraction so Natasha can come into their main office and gather the intel.

She plugged in the flash drive and began coding the files from the computer into it, typing furiously. She heard a lock click and in a split second, she has her gun drawn and twirled around to face one of the dealers, holding a gun in front of him. She was a fraction of a second too late as he already fired at her twice, two bullets hitting her chest and stomach. Shit, she cursed through gritted teeth and managed to fire at the guy just before she started to stammer down, gripping onto the desk behind her. The shot hit his waist and he stumbled backwards.

Natasha fired another round at him but her aim was shaky as she tries to keep standing up. She heard the door burst open and collapsed to the floor at the sight of Steve. He looked at her then at the man, who was getting ready to fire at Steve, but he beat him to it and emptied his gun at him to make sure he’s gone, before running to Natasha’s side.

She remembered seeing Steve hold onto her and him screaming into his earpiece for Sam to get them. And she could faintly hear Steve crying out her name, sounding very desperate. Natasha wants to wake up and remind him to let go of her and get the flash drive instead, what is he doing!!! This mission would be pointless if they don’t get that intel. She tried but she couldn’t. She felt something consuming her and she let it, letting the pain go.

–

Natasha woke up, her head feeling light and vision hazy. She was lying down in bed, but the ceiling was unfamiliar for her. Slowly, she turned her head around and saw a woman watching her. Natasha squinted her eyes at the figure but she couldn’t make out her face. Feeling weak, she took her time to sit up and examine her surroundings. She was at a small apartment, and although it was a place she’s never been to before, it feels… familiar.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” the woman’s voice broke the silence. Natasha was still looking around her and let her eyes fall on the woman in front of her once again.

“Who are you? Where am I?” Natasha’s voice came out as raspy and she coughed to clear her throat but soon flinched from the pain she suddenly felt on her stomach. She placed a hand down to put a little bit of pressure on it, hoping to ease the pain.

“Are you hurt?” the woman replied, a frown gracing her beautiful features. Natasha narrowed her eyes. She looks so familiar. And that frown… she’s seen that frown somewhere, she just couldn’t remember. When Natasha didn’t answer, the woman let out a bit of a chuckle. “Oh dear, I’m sorry. You must be confused. I’m Sarah. Sarah Rogers.”

Natasha blinked. Sarah…? Like Steve’s mother, Sarah? Well that does explain the familiar features. And the apartment. She’s seen photos of it from Steve’s old files from before the war. Steve talked about how beautiful his mother was but seeing her personally, she’s gorgeous. Steve definitely got his striking blue eyes from his mother.

Sarah smiled at her, noticing the look of recognition on Natasha’s face. “I take it that you know me from Steve?” Natasha nodded, still trying to take in what’s really happening. “Good. I’m glad that he still talks about me, that silly punk.”

Natasha felt her lips twitch at that. She remembered Steve telling her that his mother and Bucky would call him ‘punk’ due to his reckless nature. “Um, Ms. Rogers, why am I seeing you? Am I… dead?” the possibility of her being dead hasn’t really hit Natasha yet but that’s the only reason that she could think of that would make her see Sarah. She felt a pang of sadness… and regret.

Sarah laughed - it was a beautiful sound - and waved a hand, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, dear, you’re not dead. Almost, though. You were hit, badly, and poor Steve’s shaken,” she explained. Natasha frowned, she remembered getting shot but she didn’t think it was that bad.

“Oh… Um, but how am I with you?” she asked once again.

“Yes, about that. Well this is just me visiting you in a dream. But you’ll be fine, honey, don’t worry,” Sarah reassured, noticing the look of concern on Natasha’s face.

“Huh. I’ve been getting interesting dreams lately,” Natasha mumbled. She thought about the dream she had the other day - a vision of a family, her family. With Steve. Complete with a big house and a white picket fence. She shook her head because no, that’s not possible.

Sarah was watching her intently. “Natasha, I’m here because I want to talk to you. I’ve been watching you and my son from up here,” she paused, taking a deep breath, releasing it with an exasperated puff. “And I got to say, that is most frustrating thing I’ve ever had to watch. Both of you are stubborn and don’t realize what you have right now could be something more.”

Natasha was speechless. Something more? With Steve? She just stared at Sarah, not knowing what to say.

Sarah sighed at the sight of Natasha looking clueless. “Natasha, do you really not see it? Or are you just refusing to acknowledge it?” Sarah asked her, although Natasha knew it was more of a rhetorical question.

The thing is, she does see it. The frequent glances, the banter, and even the way he just seems happier when she’s around. Besides, subtly isn’t exactly Steve’s strongest point. The guy wears his heart on his sleeve for everyone with eyes to see. And anyone who spends at least 5 minutes around the two of them would be able to tell that Steve practically looks at Natasha with heart eyes.

But Sarah is right. Natasha is refusing to acknowledge it. She’s scared, okay? She’s used to every good thing in her life being taken away from her. And Steve? Steve’s the best thing that’s happened to her (well, and Clint too).

She can’t manage to lose him - doesn’t want to lose him. She really tried not to, but she’s starting to depend on him, on his presence. Like how his constant soothing words everytime she found herself to be in a bad place - nightmares, flashbacks - would be enough to bring her back to reality, to herself. The way he just seems to make her forget her past, the red in her ledger.

“Natasha?” Sarah called out. Natasha’s eyes snapped back to meet hers and she looks a little concerned. “Don’t overthink it. You care about him, and he cares about you. A lot. Now, just listen to what your heart wants, I think it’ll help lead you two in the right direction.” She smiled softly and reached out to grasp Natasha’s hand. “Now, go back there and you’ll figure it out. Thank you for being there for my son.”

Then darkness overtook her.

Natasha awoke with a start. She tried to take a deep breath, but was met with pain instead. She has a pair of breathing support tubes in her nose that is probably breathing for her. Frowning, she tried to look around - as best as she could, anyway, she felt so sore - and found a mop of blonde hair on her right side. She can immediately tell that it’s Steve, and he looks fast asleep, bent at a weird angle from the chair he was sitting in. His head was resting on top of his crossed arms, with one of his hands clutching Natasha’s.

Based on the ceiling and lights around her, she’s in a room that’s not quite an actual hospital room, but is set to look like one; with machines plugged in around her and it looks familiar. Pausing to think for a moment, she realized this must be one of SHIELD’s clandestine facilities, which she’s been to in some other regions in the country, like the underground one Fury recovered in. They probably couldn’t risk taking her to an actual hospital in case they get caught.

Steve stirred a couple of seconds later, most likely sensing she was awake based on her moving her head. Well, she and Steve has always been attuned to each other, so it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt that she was awake through no other means but his gut.

He looked startled for a moment, eyes still unfocused as they met Natasha’s, who already has a smile playing on her lips. “Hi soldier,” she croaked out. It was meant to be teasing but it turns out she barely has a voice. Which reminds her, she needs water. Her throat felt like cardboard.

Steve looked stunned. He remained silent for a couple of more seconds until breathing out a long sigh. “Oh thank god,” she heard him mutter before he ducked his head down and she felt him kiss her hand. When he looked up at her again, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. “I’m so happy you’re awake, Nat. We were so worried…” he trailed off, looking at her intently, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. In any other circumstances, Natasha would’ve teased him about this, but right now, she can only widen her smile and feel her cheeks heat up a bit.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice still low. Steve raised his eyebrow at the way she sounded, and seemed to get the clue that she needed water. He held up a hand and reached down, taking a bottle of water and straw from what she guessed was his bag under the bed. He let her hand go as he uncapped it, put the straw in, and held it up in front of her to drink. Natasha sipped from the straw as quickly as she could, and in just a few seconds, she finished the bottle. Steve let out a small chuckle and put it away, sitting back down, and grasping her hand in his again.

“Hm, where do I even start? It has been a tough week, Nat.” he said lightly, but there was a heaviness in his voice - something like resignation, weariness, and relief all at once.

“Wait, a week?” Natasha interjected. “I was out for a week?” Steve only nodded and Natasha gaped at him. No wonder he looked like a mess. And she feels like a mess.

“Yeah. We nearly,” she heard his voice waver, but he continued, “lost you. A couple of times too,” Steve cleared his throat, blinking quickly. “If you were leaning a little bit more to your right…” Steve trailed off, shaking his head. Natasha knew what he meant, based on the tubes on her nose and chest. “Fury had you transported here, ASAP. He sent Sam the coordinates as soon as he mentioned you were shot. Badly.” Steve sighed.

“But did you get the intel?” Natasha asked after Steve paused. As soon as she asked that, though, she knew it was the wrong question.

Steve stared at her and frowned. Natasha had to stop herself from grinning. He looked so much like Sarah had been in her vision, but she didn’t want to tell him that right now. “Nat. Did you not hear what I just said? You almost died, I couldn’t care less about some damn intel,” he scowled.

“I’m sorry…” Natasha muttered, feeling guilty. Sarah’s words echoed in her mind. He cares about you. A lot. “I’m just worried that-”

“- We wouldn’t get the intel we need, yes, I know that,” Steve cut her off and finished her train of thought. Natasha stayed quiet. “But Nat, you have to understand, you mean so much more to us, to me,” he emphasized, and Natasha’s eyes widened fractionally, “than some piece of information,” his grip on her hand was getting tighter with each word.

Natasha didn’t say anything and just looked at him, her eyes searching his. “Come here,” she motioned for him to come closer to her. Throwing her a puzzled look, Steve stood up to move his seat closer and leaned over her. Natasha used her free hand to pull him down by tugging his shirt, and clashed their lips together.

It seemed like it took Steve a few moments to realize what was happening since he just froze and Natasha moved her hand from his shirt to the back of his head, pressing him down harder. He finally came to his senses at this, and started to kiss her back, closing his eyes. Knowing that Natasha probably doesn’t have the strength, he adjusted himself so she doesn’t have to pull him down, and put his arm on the bed to brace himself over her.

The kiss, which started out innocent and slow, became more heated as months of pent up desire overcame them. Steve poured out all his worry and concern and relief into it, relishing into the fact that she’s here and she’s alive. Natasha was taking it all, gripping into his shirt and resisting the urge to pull him closer. There are still tubes connecting her to machines and she wouldn’t want him to pull on those.

“So are you ever going to tell us she woke up or are you going to wait until after your honeymoon before doing so?” A teasing voice made Steve suddenly jump up and pull away from Natasha. Sam was leaning by the already-opened door frame, a smirk plastered on his face. Wanda was right behind him, face split into a huge grin.

Steve was at a loss for words and can feel that his face is probably matching the red of his uniform. “I- uh,” he looked at Natasha for help, but she just had a smug look on, looking back at Sam and Wanda. “Um, why didn’t you knock?” Steve finally managed to let out.

“We did,” Wanda answered, moving in front of Sam and into the room. “But no one answered. We thought you two were both still sleeping so we let ourselves in,” she explained.

“But turns out, it was a different kind of sleeping,” Sam said with a wink. “You were supposed to call a doctor when she woke up!” he reminded Steve.

“Oh. Um, doctor, yes,” Steve repeated, blinking, looked at the headboard above Natasha and pressed a button.

“However, I am glad you two finally figured it out,” Wanda mentioned, sitting at the chair on Natasha’s other side.

“Figured it out?” Steve asked, tilting his head at her.

“Oh, we had helped,” Natasha answered, reaching for Steve’s hand and locking her fingers with his. He looked down at her, still looking confused, but she just smiled broadly at him. She knows their relationship is about to become something more.

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