#like yeah big would definitely hesitate to shoot him. he's pathetic that way and too emotional for his own good

[snarkspawn]

do you take requests? if u don't, ignore this haha but i wanted to request kenbig au where ken is running away and big wants to stop him but can't shoot him, and ken is like if u kill me, then i'll accept it (vegaspete coded lol)

I don't take requests, sorry :(

Unless it's for a commission, but they're still closed until this god damn summer is finally over 😩

[blazingparker]

What’s Up, Danger?

**so this is the fic that the lovely @snowstark allowed me to run by them to make sure it made sense to other people and not just my own brain. i really, really hope you enjoy it!

read it on ao3!

Summary: When Peter Parker gets bitten by a radioactive spider in his college’s lab, he doesn’t expect anything that comes next. Not becoming Spider-Man, not being hunted down by the Avengers, and definitely not a secret friendship with Tony Stark.

--

“So, let me get this straight. You want us to hunt down the one superhero in New York City that’s not mooching off my bank account, force him to tell us who he is, and then try and get him to join the team?” Tony could not believe what he was hearing. He sat back in his seat at the head of the table and stared straight ahead at Nick Fury.

“We don’t know that he’s a superhero,” Fury drawled, relaxing in his chair at the other end of the table. “He could be more evil than we know.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the guy plucking kittens out of trees and helping lost old Dominican ladies with directions is a supervillain in the making,” Tony deadpanned, clearly not impressed.

“Tony, orders are orders.” God, Steve was infuriating.

“Tell me, do you ever question anything or are you a walking lapdog?” Tony and Steve glared at each other until Natasha cleared her throat, breaking the tension in the room.

“Look, we’ll bring him in.” At Tony’s look of indignance, she raised a hand. “There’s no reason to go out there guns blazing, though. He hasn’t done anything to warrant that. If we show up looking ready to fight, he’ll avoid us. We will handle this professionally. With tact.” On the last word she stared pointedly at Tony, who pretended not to notice.

“So long as this ends with us knowing who’s behind the mask, I don’t care how you get it done,” Fury said as he stood. “I’ll let Pierce know you’re on board. That should get the prick off my back for a while.” With that, he left the room to the six Avengers sitting around the table.

“What is it with you and going along with whatever SHIELD wants?” Tony barked out, and Steve crossed his arms.

“SHIELD knows what’s best to keep this world safe. We should trust them to give us missions that are important and best left unquestioned.”

“Yeah, I don’t think telling us to beat up the guy who saved the owner of that deli that got blown up last week qualifies.” Tony huffed out an irritated sigh.

“Look, let’s just try and approach him one-on-one,” Natasha suggested. “That way no one feels threatened. Maybe one of us can form a relationship with the guy, get him to trust us.” When no one voiced an objection, she continued. “Tony, you can go first since you’re so protective of the guy.”

“Protective?! I am not-” Natasha left the room before Tony could finish.

---

The first thing Tony noticed when observing Spider-Man was that the guy had absolutely no self-preservation instincts. He literally flung himself off the top of a building, whooping and hollering all the way down until he almost made a little spider puddle on the ground before finally shooting out a web and swinging away. The guy ran into a burning building without a second thought and came back out with a kid in his arms.

That last incident was how Tony finally had the chance to speak with him. By tracking him with JARVIS, he saw that Spider-Man had stopped at a local playground. It looked like he was taking a breather, and was even more likely given the guy had just inhaled massive amounts of smoke. He suited up and flew over to the spot, clearly catching Spider-Man by surprise.

“Hey there, Spider-Man. Or should I call you Danger-Man, since you seem to have a knack for running right towards it?” Tony landed a respectable distance from where Spider-Man was perched on top of the jungle gym.

“What can I do for you?” Okay, so Spider-Man was young. His voice told Tony that much.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you. Nick Fury sent me. Us. The Avengers. But it’s just me for now.” Already, Spider-Man had visibly tensed. If Tony could see his eyes behind those pathetic goggles, he’d bet good money that they had narrowed considerably.

“What do you want.” Spider-Man said, his tone conveying it was a demand that Tony tell him now, not a question anymore.

“We want to know who you are. What makes you tick. What made you put on that god awful excuse for a suit and run into a burning building today.”

“Not all of us are billionaires, Stark. Some of us have to work with what we’ve got, and I haven’t really got much.” Tony’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile at that and he huffed out a laugh. Spider-Man’s quips were infamous, and now he could see why. The guy was good.

“Look,” Tony allowed his faceplate to flip up. Maybe that would help relax the agitated vigilante in front of him. Being able to look at his eyes had to be better than a titanium-alloy mask. “For the record, I was against this plan. I told Mr. Eyepatch up there that we should leave you alone.”

“Then why aren’t you?” Spider-Man sounded a little surprised at that admission.

“I got outvoted. The Avengers are a democracy, apparently. Cap’s a real bitch about it. I preferred the authoritarian model.” Tony sniffed, glancing away before looking back at Spider-Man when he chuckled quietly.

“Good to know you really are the big happy family that they show on the news,” Spider-Man shot back. Tony couldn’t help a real grin from forming that time.

“Oh yeah, big time. Ever seen Annie? It’s like that. Except Annie is actually the entire team and I’m Daddy Warbucks for all of them.” After a moment of shared laughter, things grew quiet again. Tony took a step forward, counting it as a win when Spider-Man didn’t scramble to get away.

“I’ll leave you alone from now on, since that’s clearly what you want. On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Spider-Man sounded wary but intrigued.

“Gimme your number.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Just because I’m gonna leave you alone doesn’t mean the others will. If they pull some stupid shit while trying to convince you to tell them who you are, I wanna know. Give me your number.”

“How would I call you if you have my number?”

“I’ll call you first.” Tony was surprised to find he actually truly did mean it. Spider-Man just stared at him for a second before rattling off a phone number and disappearing into the night.

This definitely wasn’t ideal. Tony knew that. But at least this way he had a way of knowing if the team went too far in their attempts to complete the mission.

Grinning, Tony plugged the number into his phone before hesitating over the space left for the contact’s name. He didn’t know Spider-Man’s identity, and definitely couldn’t plug in Spider-Man in case anyone ever saw. Remembering his very first quip to the vigilante, his thumbs flew over the screen.

Danger.

---

Over the course of the next few weeks, Tony and Spider-Man struck up a routine. After each encounter with the Avengers, Spider-Man would give him a call and let him know how it went down. Luckily, things hadn’t gotten violent yet.

Tony was also finding himself...attached. To this masked vigilante from Queens. Something that made absolutely no sense and was probably going to end in disaster for them both. This guy clearly wanted nothing to do with the Avengers - no matter how friendly the two of them had become.

A ringtone disrupted Tony from his thoughts and he grabbed his phone, smiling a little when he read the screen.

Incoming call from: Danger

“What’s up, Danger?” Tony asked as he answered, pushing back from the lab table he was stationed at and walking to the window.

“Are you ever not going to answer the phone that way?” An exasperated voice came from the other end of the line. Tony grinned. He’d taken to always answering with the same “what’s up, danger?” First, it had been because he didn’t want anyone to walk in and hear him greeting Spider-Man. But slowly, it was becoming an inside joke with the two of them.

“Not a chance. But c’mon, gimme the rundown,” Tony said, gazing out over the New York City skyline as though he might see Spider-Man if he looked hard enough.

“Cap and Widow came this time. Gave me the same rundown, telling me they were running out of options and didn’t want to have to resort to other measures,” Spider-Man informed him. His voice dipped lower on the last few words in an imitation of Steve’s voice. Tony’s blood ran cold at that, and he quickly sat down on the nearest chair.

Why was he so afraid for Spider-Man all of a sudden? They were just pals. The guy was a vigilante that clearly had enhanced strength and other powers and could take care of himself.

“What the hell does that mean?” Tony asked, clenching his jaw.

“I didn’t exactly stick around to find out,” Spider-Man said with a laugh. “You could ask him though.”

“And risk him finding out exactly how I knew of this threat? Not a chance. Then things would just get worse,” Tony explained with a sigh.

“You really don’t need to be so worried. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not worried.” The words came out just a little bit too fast, and Spider-Man chuckled.

“Sure, Tones.” The nickname sent..something through Tony. Not affection. It was not affection. Nothing like that. “Anyway, I gotta hang up. Got readings to get done.”

“So you’re in college!” Tony cried triumphantly, waving a hand in the air to try and tell JARVIS to add that to the file he had on Spider-Man. When there was silence on the other end of the line, he sobered up a bit. “I’m not gonna look into it. Promise.”

Another beat of silence.

“Alright. Talk to you later, Tony.”

---

The next time Tony’s phone rang, he was eating dinner with Natasha and Rhodey after being dragged out of his lab. When he saw Danger flash across the screen, he quickly excused himself and walked out of hearing range.

“What’s up, Danger?”

“Would you tell Hawkeye over there to quit it with the arrow-fest?” Tony’s eyebrows just about disappeared into his hairline and he clutched the phone a little tighter. He could hear Spider-Man’s breath coming fast, like he’d just finished swinging. He probably had.

“The what?” He asked, voice edging on a growl.

“He and Thor showed up, tried to ask me again. When I made it clear I wasn’t interested in joining the Brady Bunch and tried to leave, he took a shot at me. Without my danger sense, I definitely would’ve been hit.” Another interesting fact about Spider-Man, but Tony couldn’t pay attention to that now.

“He-fuck, I’m so sorry. That was never-I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Tony ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

“It’s fine, Tony. You didn’t take the shot at me,” Spider-Man insisted. “I can handle a few pissed-off Avengers. Really.” After a moment of Tony trying to come up with a response, the vigilante spoke again with a softer voice. “Tony, I’m okay. It’s not your fault. I’m not hurt, I’m safe at home.”

Somehow, the knot that had been growing in Tony’s chest eased at hearing Spider-Man was safe at home. He nodded before realizing he was on the phone and that response wouldn’t really work. “Alright, as long as you’re safe.” Where the hell did that come from? “I-I hate to cut this short but I walked out on Rhodey and Nat and-”

“-and if you’re gone too long, the jig is up. No worries, I get it. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Tony couldn’t stop a smile at the understanding in the man’s voice.

“Talk tomorrow.”

---

After that phone call, Spider-Man’s run-ins with the Avengers got increasingly volatile. While Clint had admitted to losing his cool when he shot the arrow and acknowledged it had been a mistake, they’d lost whatever trust they’d built up with Spider-Man.

Well, the others had. Not Tony.

Each encounter had more biting remarks than the last, and their duration was getting shorter and shorter. The Avengers had even tried catching up to him multiple times in one night. All that resulted in was an exhausted, irritated Spider-Man - Tony could hear it in his voice when they spoke on the phone.

Tony was working on a new suit in the lab when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was nearly two in the morning. His crooked heart started beating a little faster at that - only one person would call him so late.

“What’s up, Danger?” Tony asked cheerfully as he picked up the phone. The cheer dissipated immediately when he didn’t get a response. All he could hear was labored breathing and a groan of pain. “Hey. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Hey, Tony,” Spider-Man answered, words slurring together. Tony immediately moved to his closest functional suit, letting JARVIS transfer the call over as he got into it.

“What happened?” Tony tried his best to keep the panic from edging into his voice. The faceplate closed and he could see JARVIS running a tracking program, trying to find out where Spider-Man had last been seen.

“No big deal. ‘S just a guy. He had a big knife. Huge. ‘S not safe for the neighborhood,” Spider-Man answered. Tony felt a chill run through him - Spider-Man had been stabbed ? His danger sense never allowed anyone to land a blow.

“Apparently not so safe for neighborhood Spider-Men either,” he quipped with a shaky voice. “Are you doing okay? Have something to stop the bleeding?”

“Does pavement count?” Even in an injured state, the guy was still churning out one-liners like it was nothing.

“I have located Spider-Man, sir,” JARVIS piped up. “Plotting the fastest course.” Tony whirled around, blasting the nearest window and watching it shatter before shooting out of it at top speed.

“Why didn’t you dodge it?” Tony asked, desperate to keep Spider-Man talking to him until he could get there.

“Danger sense isn’t workin’.” Spider-Man’s voice was significantly quieter at that, like he was ashamed.

“Faster, JARVIS! Why not?” Tony barked the command at his AI but softened his voice for the injured vigilante.

“Tired.” The one-word answer was enough. Even if the Avengers hadn’t struck Spider-Man directly since the incident with Clint, they’d caused this. Their persistence had worn down a decent man to the point where he couldn’t defend himself against the common criminals of Queens. That wasn’t what they were supposed to be about, and Tony felt disgusted just thinking about it.

Luckily, he didn’t have to for much longer. The suit began to descend towards a rooftop in a sketchier area of Queens, and Tony spotted the red and blue jumpsuit the guy insisted on wearing. The faceplate flipped up as he landed and knelt next to the form lying on the ground.

“What’s up, Danger?” Tony asked, trying to tease as he gently pushed away the blood-soaked fabric to get a look at the wound.

“Oh my god, this again? Just leave me to die.” Spider-Man groaned, but didn’t push Tony away. The older man laughed, shaking his head. He then pointed his index and middle fingers at the wound, allowing a healing gel to spray out of the suit and onto the injury. It was a new creation of Tony’s - it would stop the bleeding and keep the wound stable until they reached a medbay and could get real medical attention.

“There we go, Spider-Man. We do need to get you properly fixed up, though. This is a temporary solution.” Tony said, leaning over the man still lying there limply. Slowly, Spider-Man brought a hand up to his head. Tony thought he was feeling for blood, and watched in shock as the hand gripped the hood of his mask and tugged it off.

Of course he’s hot, was the first thing that went through Tony’s mind. Floppy brown hair, soft pink lips, and those big eyes that reminded him of a certain deer from an animated Disney movie. Spider-Man shifted slightly, trying to sit up with a quiet groan, and Tony rushed to support him and help hold him up. Spider-Man looked up at him and gave him a crooked grin.

“It’s Peter,” he said. His name. Tony smiled brightly in return.

“What’s up, Peter?”

[infinitebells]

annoying: chapter 4

iwaizumi hajime has hated you, his assistant athletic trainer, since he knew you in high school. you on the other hand have bothered him for fun for as long as you knew him, not realizing your romantic feelings for him had manifested in that way. what happens when you two blockheads finally come to terms with how you feel?

“yakuuu how far away are we?” your head pokes through the space between the two front seats, and you can hear yaku scoff as he drives.

“like ten minutes. so sit back and be patient,” his right hand comes back and pushes your face back. pouting, you sit back and rest your head on atsumu’s shoulder. he chuckles besides you and lays his arm over your shoulder, craning his head to talk to yaku in the mirror.

“yakkun are you designated driver?” you, bokuto, and atsumu are hopeful you won’t have to stay sober tonight.

“well obviously, we are taking my car. i don’t trust any of you idiots to drive it,” his eyes stay on the road as he talks.

“yakkun! i could drive your car if i wanted to!” bokuto protests, and you can hear the slight whine in his voice as he speaks. atsumu snickers quietly at his tone, turning to press his face into your hair to try and be quiet. it doesn’t work.

“even piss head is laughing at the idea of you driving my car,” yaku gestures to the back, and you turn your head into atsumu’s shoulder to hide from bokuto’s scathing glare the the two of you.

“you’re both traitors,” his unnecessarily even voice is what pushes you and atsumu over, and you two dissolve into loud laughs with snorts mixed in occasionally.

“we love you bo!!” you lean forward and clasp one hand over each of his cheeks, smushing his face together and shooting him a wide smile. he awkwardly smiles at the position his face is in before pulling back and frowning slightly at you.

“mean. both of you,” he faces the road in spite, and you can see yaku’s shoulders shake as he just barely holds his own laughs in. after a couple more minutes of navigating, yaku pulls into a garage right next to the bar, announcing you guys have arrived.

“yayyy drinking time!” you happily skip through the covered garage, your dress fluttering around you.

“if you throw up you’re not allowed in my car,” yaku calls out from behind you, and you wave your hand back in acknowledgment. atsumu and bokuto catch up to you, atsumu walking on your right and bokuto on your left.

“it’s like i have two big beefy bodyguards. how exciting,” your eyebrows wiggle up seductively at the two of them, and atsumu snort with no hesitation.

“yeah just one. ya can have bokkun,” he pushes you towards bokuto, who just barely manages to catch you before you fall. he slings his arm over your shoulder, pulling your side into his body and glaring at atsumu.

“good cuz you don’t deserve to guard her anyways,” sticking his tongue out at atsumu, he pulls you closer and kisses the top of your head. your glare matches his, and as yaku comes to walk with you three, he looks equally annoyed with you and bokuto.

“why do you look like that piss head? you’re gonna be drunk soon anyways. i have to deal with the idiots while sober,” he grumbles, leading the way to the bar.

“why are ya always so mean yakkun! we’re friends here!” atsumu calls out as yaku reaches the door of the bar.

“you three are the children i babysit,” he says with a tired sigh before yanking the door open for the four of you to enter.

“l/n-san!” hinata’s voice carries over the staggering amount of patrons in the bar, and your eyes fall on the bubbly orange headed middle blocker across the bar. ushijima, kageyama, suna, and aran accompany the boy, and aran looks like he’s already three drinks in. you would be too if hinata was that energetic.

“hinata!!” you maneuver through the crowd, making your way over to the table they reserved and giving him a hug.

“i’m here too you know,” suna’s voice stands out in the relatively loud bar, and you look over hinata’s shoulder to glare at him.

“really? i didn’t see you behind all that shit attitude. congrats on winning by the way,” you turn back to hinata, squeezing him one last time before saying hi to everyone else.

“how come hinata gets a hug?” atsumu whines from across the table.

“because he’s the only person besides bokuto who’s nice to me,” you tell him, setting your purse down before sliding out of the chair. “i’m going to get a drink does anyone want to come with me?”you look around, realizing that komori and hoshiumi weren’t there yet.

“i suppose i will,” suna groans as he gets up, pushing you towards the bar.

“you sound so excited to do so,” you quip back, slapping his hand off of your shoulder. he smirks, leaning against the bar as you order yourself three shots of tequila.

“jesus how drunk are you trying to get?” he frowns as the bartender comes back with three identical shot glasses filled to the brim with the amber liquid.

“enough to forget my problems,” you cut yourself off by throwing your head back and downing one of the shots in record time. suna watches as you finish the second one the exact same way, and as you reach out to grab the third, a voice floats towards the two of you.

“...guys what’s up?” you freeze, turning around slightly to see iwaizumi talking to the team, hinata waving excitedly at him. he’s dressed in similar clothes to all the others guys, dark pants and a light blue button up, sleeves cuffed at his forearms. he looks offensively attractive.

“if you stare any longer you’ll burn holes into him,” suna whispers loudly in your ear, forcing you to bat his face away before turning back towards the bar.

“i wasn’t staring. i was looking at how stupid hot he looks,” you mumble under your breath, eyeing the shot in your hands. as the edge of the glass touches your lips and the fiery liquid reaches your tongue, you feel a presence make itself known behind you. you opt to ignore the presence until after your shot is finished.

“hey suna,” the liquid turns bitter in your mouth at the voice, but you force the shot down anyways before turning to see iwaizumi shake hands with suna. upon noticing you next to him, his eyes widen slightly before returning back to normal, a scowl painted across his face.

“l/n-san,” his voice is low, and the alcohol is already muddling your senses, so you can’t help the warm feeling crawling across your face.

“iwaizumi-san. always a pleasure,” your voice is even, and you smirk at the man before turning back to the bar and ordering another two shots.

“are you trying to kill yourself here? is that what’s going on? do i need to get yaku?” suna just about cancels your order, but you grab the glass closest to him and down your fourth shot of the night. you’re well aware taking so many shots in a row will definitely have you plastered, but the familiar warmth that comes with intoxication is already seeping through your brain and relaxing your senses.

“i’m fine sunarin, i’m having fun! i got two hot boys to keep me company anyways,” the words fall out before you can process them, so you miss the way iwaizumi’s stare hardens on you. suna scoffs, watching pathetically from the sidelines as you finish your fifth shot.

“i’m praying you’re taking about bokuto and atsumu,” he says, ordering himself a beer. lord knows he’ll need it if he’s going to deal with you tonight.

“obviously i’m talking about you two!” you giggle, winking at iwaizumi, who flushes bright red. suna sighs before tugging on your arm and pulling you back to the table.

“you should learn to keep your mouth shut,” he says as he sits you down next to atsumu before sitting on the other side of him. you’re unaware of how iwaizumi sits on the other side of suna.

“what’d she do this time?” atsumu takes a gulp of beer before turning back to you.

“i said iwaizumi was hot and sunarin got mad. i don’t know why though, he’s a very attractive person, and he’s got veryyy big arms. have you seen them? i’d let him choke me,” you grab a random glass of water on the table to sip on. suna and atsumu giggle to themselves as iwaizumi moves into you, glaring at you from across the table.

“hajime!!” your drunk self stumbles out of your chair and onto the empty chair right next to him. your arm moved up to rest on his shoulder.

“what are you doing?” he moves to lean back as you lean forward, but your hand catches his chin so you can speak. both atsumu and suna were watching with wide eyes at the sight before them. aran and ushijima were engaged in their own conversation, with kageyama snoozing quietly on ushijima’s shoulder. hinata, now accompanied by hoshiumi and komori, have joined bokuto and yaku on the dance floor.

“i’m asking if you want to dance with me!” you finish with a wide smile, giggling out of habit. he fidgets in his seat at the sight.

“i don’t dance,” his voice is even, strained.

“then maybe you should follow me into the bathroom and i can show you different moves,” your smile drops to something more alluring as you stand up shakily and walk towards the bathroom, not waiting for his reply. next to him, suna and atsumu are practically bursting at the seams with laughter.

masterlist

taglist: @babyoomi @honeysunny @halesandy @autumnandhotchocolate @velociraptorenthusiast @fluffyviciousbunny @darlingkuroo @youtuboo @b0bablinds @nerdynstoned @jovialweaselskeletonfan @amboisez @bbyhaji @astral-vroom @miwtze @seijqhigh @mrswhitethornbelikov @atsumubabe @lvrkuroo @navymacaroons

[moonlitwings1]

HC/ficlet for Billy and Max setting off fireworks please.

It’s New Year’s eve.

He would’ve been spending it at Steve’s place if Neil didn’t insist that New Year’s was a time for family to reflect on the past year and a time to celebrate the new one together. Bullshit.

Max would’ve been at Mike’s house with the rest of her little buddies, but Neil put a stop to that too. She wouldn’t stop going on and on about the fireworks the Wheelers were going to put out that she’s going to miss. Apparently, they’ve got the fancy ones that make shapes in the sky. When she complained to Neil, he told her that if she wanted to have fireworks. She can buy them herself. Having spent all of her allowance, guess who she goes to? Yup.

He originally refused to buy fireworks, but she promised if he did, that she’d cover for him the next time he sneaks out, and damn if that didn’t sound like a good deal. That is, until he realized that fireworks were fucking expensive. Max had gone with him to the mall to pick some up and when he looked at the price and glanced back at Max, she had plastered on the biggest shit-eating grin. It took everything in him in that moment not to smack her upside the head. Bitch.

But they shook on it, so there was no going back. A Hargrove’s promise. Besides, it’ll be worth it in the end when Billy makes up for lost time with Steve. He’s got some ideas in mind.

But now they’re standing in their front yard trying to figure out how to light this shit up. It’s twenty minutes before twelve. And Princess Maxine wants to light them exactly when it hits midnight. It has to be on time!

“It says we should wear protective eyewear,” Max reads, holding out the instructions in front of her face. Billy snatches it from her and throws it to the side. He meant for it to be an aggressive move, but the paper just pathetically flutters to the ground.

“We don’t need that shit. I’ve done this before,” he says, squatting on the floor, putting the fireworks on a board.

Max squints her eyes at him, doubtful. He has done it before with his friends back in Cali. Sure, they might’ve aimed wrong and almost shot someone’s eye out, but it was fine in the end. How hard can it be to do it with your little sister?

Turns out pretty hard. With Max peering over his shoulder at every second trying to correct him with those damn instructions, he nearly threw her back into the house. He probably should’ve. She’s a pain in the ass.

He elbows her in the stomach, shoving her back and making her flinch hard at the impact. He almost turns around to make sure she’s ok. He doesn’t.

“Stop standing over me,” he says instead. “It’s fucking weird.”

Thankfully, she shoves him right back just as hard. “You’re doing it wrong, asshole. Why don’t you get off your high horse and read the instructions for once.”

He ignores her, bringing his focus back to fireworks in front of him. The hell does she know? He brings the lighter to one of the fireworks.

“Wait! Don’t light it now,” Max says, turning to run back inside. “Let me get my mom.”

Just as she’s about to sprint back inside, Billy grabs her by the back of the shirt, bringing her to a halt.

“Chill the fuck out. I’m just gonna test it out.”

“It’s not even midnight yet,” she pouts as she wrestles his arm off her shirt.

“I said I’m testing it out, dumbass. Calm down.” He lets her go with a final tug and squats back down with the board of fireworks. Now he just needs to bring the lighter a little closer--

“Wait, maybe we should-” he doesn’t wait for her to finish before bringing the lighter to one of the fireworks, watching the flame catch on.

He’s quick to his feet, walking backwards, bringing Max with him. She doesn’t fight him, her eyes wide and focused on the flame, watching it get closer and closer, until-BAM. The firework shoots up in the sky bursting and letting out a hail of red sparks. He doesn’t hear her at first, the sound of the burst deafening him for a second. He forgot how loud they were up close.

“Billy! Billy!”

“The hell do you want!,” he shouts, patience finally wearing thin with her constant nagging.

She’s panicking, waving her hand frantically in the direction of---shit.

Their fucking bush caught on fire. He almost faceplants running toward it. Probably would’ve deserved it too, but he reaches the bush in a split second and stamps the fire out quick enough. Why does shit always go down when he’s around? All things considered, it’s not the worst thing that could’ve caught on fire, but still.

“How the fuck--”

“I KNEW THIS WAS GONNA HAPPEN”

Oh for fucks sake. He spins around to glare at Max. “Well, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Like you’ve been bothering to listen to anything I’ve been saying for the past fifteen fucking minutes!” she shrieks, stamping her foot. She looks like she’s imitating a toddler, but Billy figures now’s not the time to point that out. “I literally told you that we should bring the extinguisher just in case!”

She did say something like that now that he thinks about it. Probably mentioned it sometime between the rant about the Wheelers and the droning on about the instructions. He internally curses himself for not paying attention to her for once.

“Well, we didn't end up needing one, did we?”

Her jaw drops slightly and she just gapes at him. “You’re a fucking psycho.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now help me--”

“The hell are you two making a racket about?”

Fucking great. Perfect.

“Nothing, dad,” Billy bit out. “I just lit a firework to test it out. Max helped me.”

Neil glanced at Max, eyeing her as if that was gonna reveal anything. “Did she? Not banging up anything are we?”

“No, sir,” Billy replies, hands in his pockets. Subtly moving in front of the bush so that maybe, just maybe, Neil won’t see the burn marks. Thankfully, the entire bush wasn’t burnt, just the edge. He could probably hide it or maybe break it off. Neil won’t notice it just yet.

They stare at each other for a moment. Neil doesn’t say anything aloud, but Billy can see the threat behind the eyes. After a minute, Neil gives him a nod of approval and saunters back inside. He breathes a sigh of relief. Maybe he just didn’t want to give Billy too much shit for New Year’s sake. He’s just grateful he won’t have to show up to Steve’s house bruised up again.

“That was a close one,” Max mumbles.

“No shit.”

Five minutes ‘till midnight.

Billy squats down in front of the fireworks again. “Hand me the instructions,” he says, sticking a hand out towards Max who beamed at him, glad he’s finally listening to her.

He snatches them out of her hand and gets back to work, fidgeting around with the set before standing back up.

“Well Maxine? Do I finally have your approval?”

“Firstly, don’t call me that. Secondly,” she says, making a big show of inspecting the fireworks, circling around them, “Yes.”

“If this shit lights a bush on fire, I’m coming for your head.”

She looks a little hesitant at that, but he ruffles her hair and she gives him a soft smile in return.

“Should we ask if they’re coming out to watch?”

Billy checks his watch. “Nah. One minute ‘till midnight. They’re probably watching the ball drop. I don’t give a shit.”

“Yeah,” Max shrugs. “I don’t really care either. Let's just light them ourselves.” Lies. He can tell by the way she keeps looking over her shoulder for her mom that she does care. Susan won’t join them. He knows that much. Wherever Neil is, she is. She won’t watch fireworks with them unless Neil does, and there’s no way he’s going to want to do that despite his claim of today being a time for family. Billy knows better. Max will too one day.

15 seconds until midnight.

“You wanna light them?”

Her head snaps up to look at him. “Really?”

“Don’t blow shit up, though,” he says, handing the lighter to her. Neil would most definitely blow a gasket if he found out his 13 year old daughter was the one lighting fireworks. But what’s life without a little risk?

She grins. “So basically don’t do what you did.”

“Exactly,” he chuckles. “You know how to light it?”

“I think so.”

“Have at it,” he says, letting her go but staying close in case she screws shit up.

Five seconds ‘till midnight.

Four

Three

Two

Max quickly lights the fireworks in a swift motion, and turns to run back. She covers her ears as the fireworks all fly up, bursting in the sky with a multitude of colors. From a distance, Billy sees other fireworks bursting, neighbors shouting. He even spots a yellow one shaped like a star right above their house that Max points excitedly to. He might have snuck one in the cart when he saw Max looking longingly at it. Probably not as cool as it would’ve been at the Wheeler’s, but it’s something. She’s still a whiny little bitch.

Turning back towards the door, he sees Susan peeking through the window, a soft smile, strikingly similar to Max’s on her face.

Happy New Year.

[avengers-age-of-fanfics]

just for you, honeybee (6/?)

pairing: steve rogers x reader (platonic), natasha romanoff x reader (platonic), bruce banner x reader (y/n is a big fan of his), tony stark x reader, bucky barnes x reader

warnings: mention of bucky, fighting, training, mention of guns, takes place during The Avengers

words: 3,359

a/n: part 6! i honestly don't know how long this series will be, but i think i may end it at either endgame or TFATWS. so basically going through all the movies lmao, but skipping over a few. i just want honeybee and bucky to be happy but gotta add some angst.

Transitioning into a new world, the year of 2011, was no easy feat, and you appreciated Director Fury being somewhat patient and honest about how much has changed. Him, and apparently one of your biggest ‘fans,’ Phil Coulson, have been the most helpful with your adjustment, teaching you all about the new technology and supplying you with a new phone, courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D.

However, along the way, were a few speedbumps. You and Steve trained consistently in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s gym, almost leaving no room for sleep or taking proper care of yourselves. You both knew it was terrible, you should be looking out for one another, but the loss and confusion overran your needs to live a normal life. However, over time, he seemed to adjust better than you, as expected. Even though Steve had only been awake a few months before you, he jumped right back into the new world.

For you and Steve, the both of you had seen Bucky a few weeks ago; you had seen Steve a few minutes ago, from the time you had woken up. To everyone else in the world, including Steve, however, that was history, a moment written in textbooks ages ago; and for Captain Rogers, that moment was months ago.

In your mind, you deserved to release your anger out on some punching bags.

It had taken Director Fury and Agent Coulson a while until they shared the news to you and Steve, that Peggy was alive. They had claimed that since they found Steve, high hopes were in store for finding you, hence saving off on telling him beforehand. Steve had immediately wanted to see her but you hesitated; what would Peggy say to the both of you? How would she react to you both being alive? No matter, Steve had begged you to come along to visit Peg and you caved, giving him some time with her before he called you in.

Peggy’s eyes lit up, “y/n, you’re alive! Sweetheart…”

You smiled, pulling up a chair next to her, “hey, Peggy. How’s the strongest woman alive doin’?”

She sighed, grasping your hand, “better…much better. Howard never stopped looking for you, the both of you. He’d be so happy to see you.”

You sucked in a breath as her eyes turned glossy, “we know, Pegs. We know.”

She held back her tears as she continued, “he had a son, Anthony; just as stubborn but smart as Howard. You’d love him.”

Steve chuckled, “sounds like a handful.”

Peggy laughed before falling into a coughing fit, turning away for a few seconds. After regaining her breath, she turned towards you and Steve, “Steve! Y/N! You – you’re both alive; you came back!”

Steve gave a sad smile as your face fell, “yeah, Peggy, we did…”

Steve’s eyes teared up, “I couldn’t leave my best girl; not when she owes me a dance.”

Over time, the visits to Peggy became too much and you needed to rest. So, with little convincing to Director Fury, you found yourself in a small cabin in Bozeman, Montana, with frequent visits by both Coulson and your new female friend, Natasha Romanoff. At first, you hated the idea of someone visiting you during your time to reflect, but once you realized that she wanted to help you train and become used to your super serum abilities, you appreciated the company.

You barely had any time to adjust to your newfound strength, among other things, and you slowly became grateful that Natasha had joined you over the course of a few months. Sure, sometimes she was so nosy and bossy, waking you up in the ungodly hours of the morning to train, but she had slowly become one of your closest friends.

Honestly, some days it felt as if you just met Natasha the day before:

You stood in Fury’s office, arms crossed, as he stood adjacent to you, Coulson awkwardly standing beside him. “Why are you sending a babysitter to a place where I am supposed to be, oh, I don’t know, relaxing? Reflecting?”

Director Fury grumbled for the umpteenth time, “because, Agent L/N, you never know when the day will come where we will need you and Rogers, along with your special abilities. You are unskilled in hand-in-hand combat, among other areas in defense, and it’d be nice to enhance our agents.”

You uncrossed your arms, still very pissed off, “I don’t want them to visit me every day. That’s my one condition. I need time, Nick; I feel like I haven’t properly…taken everything in. I just want time to myself.”

Phil spoke up beside Fury, “and we respect that, Y/N, we truly do. But we hope you also see where we are coming from. Natasha Romanoff is very skilled in her profession and understands your situation – you’re in good hands.”

“Phil, you’re making me blush,” a female monotonous voice spoke.

Whipping your head around, you were met with a beautiful redhead who definitely seemed like an Agent, someone who meant all business. You’d learn later on that was just a façade.

“I- Y/N L/N, you must be Agent Romanoff,” you said, holding out your hand.

Natasha grinned, shaking your hand in hers, “just call me Nat, Agent sounds too formal. I look forward to seeing what that super soldier serum truly did to you.”

Apparently, not too much as she continuously kicked your ass in combat.

Training with Natasha was, well, with your lack of combat, embarrassing. You had your ass handed to you so many times, it was a bit pathetic – but she always told you that you were improving. You used your heightened senses to your advantage, listening to her footsteps and figuring out what move she intended to use next. You hesitated to use your strength at first, but with continued training, you knew Nat could handle it.

With Nat, you also became very skilled in shooting handguns, rifles, the whole nine. Your aim was impeccable and target training was becoming a breeze. The thought of shooting someone terrified you at first, but when Nat reminded you that hesitation could get you killed, you understood – there was no room for mistakes.

During your stay in Montana, you kept in touch with Steve, but only through short texts. He was not thrilled with you leaving him, but he understood where you were coming from; you needed to mourn but also keep busy, careful to not fall into a dark abyss. Fury kept you updated, telling you that he had pushed himself into training continuously and visiting Peggy all he could. You knew seeing Peg was doing Steve no good whatsoever, and your heart ached...but at least he got to see his long love.

Nat had been there when Bucky’s birthday passed, holding you as you cried, unable to leave your bed the day of and a few after. She held you as you yelled at the sky for taking away the most important person in your life, leaving you so alone. She knew you had Steve, but it wasn’t the same – you needed Bucky. But she also knew by letting you cry, your emotions out of your body, you’d feel so much more at peace.

And she was right.

Natasha also told you about Howard's son, Anthony, and from what you saw on the news, that was definitely Howard's kid. Tony was arrogant, self-absorbed, but did what he thought was right. After his declaration of being Iron Man, you followed Tony all over the internet, but hearing first hand from Natasha of the man that Tony was...Howard would be proud. You wished to meet him, you did, but something pulled at your heart, telling you that Tony probably hated you for taking his dad from him, forcing Howard to become obsessed with finding you and Steve and thus, costing him his life.

Natasha told you he might see you in that light, yes, but if you ever got to know Tony, he'd warm up.

You weren’t healed and you still weren’t okay, but you were…better. You hated whatever being there was in the sky for taking your James, but you came to terms with it. But the one thing you were so resentful about was the fact that there was no body, no funeral for him.

Becca hated that, too.

You had visited her in her old age, just like Peggy, and the two of you held hands as you talked about James and Steve – your boys. She had missed you so much, just like she missed Jamie, and she understood your pain the best. She had tried to encourage a search party for him, to have some closure, but the government refused. He was gone, and they couldn’t send more men to find a disfigured body.

You hated thinking about that, what James would look like. It haunted you in your nightmares, waking you up in the wee hours of the morning, his frostbitten body staring right back at you. Phil had found you a morning after such nightmare, sitting on your porch in nothing but an oversized shirt and a blanket around your shoulders, cheeks wet with fresh tears.

You sniffled once more, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, watching as a black car parked into your dirt driveway. The car opened and Phil Coulson emerged, as expected - on time for your monthly visits. Hugging onto the blanket tighter, you shivered against the cold air, hoping Phil would just leave upon noticing your state.

He did the exact opposite.

Phil took off his jacket, resting it upon your shoulders even though you had the blanket. You sniffled, inhaling his scent, and hugged the jacket closer, feeling Phil take a seat next to you on your wooden bench.

"I always found snow to be soft, almost like a cloud, falling down upon it when James and I would make snow angels," you began. A shiver ran down your spine as you continued, "but now, I can't help but think of his body just...plopping onto the ground so roughly that he was hurting, still alive, yelling out for anyone and..."

Phil ran his hand over your head, brushing your hair back, "freezing."

You glanced to Phil, "freezing to...to death. He must've been so scared, I-"

Phil shushed you as the tears formed, "no what if's, y/n. He's safe now - that's what matters most. You're okay, and so is he."

Your bottom lip trembled as you held onto the dog tags, nodding to Phil's words, "you're right, as always."

Phil gave a tight smile, "let's go inside and heat up some milk, 'm getting tired myself." Coulson held your hand for the rest of the night.

Trying to convince yourself to get some closure, you told yourself that the next time you were in Washington D.C., you’d visit the museum and read all about Bucky, all that he had done, and see the amazed looks of citizens who saw him as a hero. Your James Barnes was a hero to so many people, including yourself, and you should be able to celebrate his goodness from when he was alive.

You were going to go the next day until Director Fury knocked on your door at 2:30 in the morning, holding a file labeled “CLASSIFIED.”

You raised an eyebrow, “couldn’t have given me this at a decent time?”

He narrowed his good eye, “it’s urgent, didn’t have time for formalities, your highness.”

With a snort, you grabbed the folder from his hands, “glad you know how to properly address me. What time do we leave?”

Fury tilted his head toward the quinjet, directing your eyes toward Steve who stood alongside Natasha, “once you get dressed, Agent. You’ll have time to look over the file in the jet.”

You weren’t sure why you got dressed so fast; seeing Steve for the first time in about 6 months, finally going on a mission, or just getting some new sense of scenery. Either way, you engulfed Steve in a hug and he laid a hand on the back of your head, “hey, honeybee.”

Your heart ached whenever he called you that, but you figured it was one of the last things he could hold onto Bucky as his dog tags laid against your chest, “hey, Stevie. So, what’s the deal?”

Reading over the file while Nat gave more information about Clint – someone else who you had grown quite close to – you grew confused. You looked to Steve, “the Tesseract. That’s the blue cube that…disintegrated Schmidt, right?”

Steve nodded, “looks like Howard recovered it and it’s been in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hands since, but this guy, Loki, wants something to do with it – Hydra’s secret weapon.”

Fury spoke up from the front of the jet, “that scepter he has, it controls the minds of anyone it touches, including one of my sharpest agents. The Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy – that’s something the world sorely needs. Falls into the wrong hands, well…”

You shook your head, “you shoulda left it in the ocean.”

Silence overtook the quinjet until Phil came over to your seat, sitting beside you, “I’d like you to come along to recruit another member, if you don’t mind.”

You gave a small smile to Phil, “um, yeah, that’s fine. Where we goin’ and who are we recruiting, Coulson?”

Phil seemed a bit nervous as he spared a glance to Nat, who nodded her head, “Tony Stark, Iron Man.”

You sucked in a breath, “Howard’s son? You want me to come along?”

Phil laid his own hand upon yours that rested in your lap, file forgotten about, “I do, and I hope you wouldn’t mind tagging along.”

Holding back your tears, you nodded, “yeah, yeah, I’ll come. When do we leave?”

“Once we land in D.C., we’ll take a quick trip to New York. Easy car ride.”

You squinted your eyes, “isn’t that like, a 6-hour drive?”

Phil gave an uneasy smile, “not with me driving, we’ll be there in 2.”

You chuckled, “as long as I get there alive, I don’t really care how we get there.”

In all honesty, the drive to Stark Tower was relatively calm, save for swerving through traffic and going way too fast for your liking. Once you arrived, you and Phil talked to the impressive AI named JARVIS who told you both that he was informing Mr. Stark of your arrival.

“Impressive Artificial Intelligence,” you whispered to Phil, “definitely Howard's kid.”

Phil was about to respond until JARVIS spoke up, “Mr. Stark is not in, Agent Coulson.”

Your friend pursed his lips together, “please tell Tony that this is urgent and we need to speak. Now.”

Very quickly, Tony ignored your calls until Phil hacked into the system, overriding JARVIS and his protocols. Phil spoke into the phone, pulling you inside the elevator, “Mr. Stark, we need to talk.”

Tony sighed on the other line, “you have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message.”

Phil rolled his eyes, causing you to let out a snort, along with Pepper Potts on the other line, “this is urgent, Tony.”

You and Phil stood in the elevator, about to reach his floor as Tony responded, “then leave it urgently.” Right on cue, the elevator doors opened and Tony held up his glass of champagne, “security breach, it’s on you.”

Tony’s eyes glanced over your figure as you stood beside Phil, Pepper getting up from the floor to greet him, “Phil! Come in. I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met yet, Miss?”

You smiled at Pepper, meeting her halfway and shaking her hand, “Agent Y/N L/N, Miss Potts.”

Tony stood beside Pepper, “the infamous Miss America, Cap’s sidekick. How’s S.H.I.E.L.D. treating you? Always annoying you with something, barging in without your knowledge, telling you that you've been asleep for 70 years?”

Phil spoke for you, “I’m afraid we can’t stay. We need you to look this over as soon as possible.”

Tony shook his head, “I don’t like being handed things.”

You let out a chuckle as Pepper took the folder, “that’s fine, because I love to be handed things. So, let’s trade.” With a quick switch of hands, Pepper gave Tony the folder as she handed Phil the glass of champagne, “thank you. Anything for you, Y/N?”

You shook your head, “no thank you, Miss Potts.”

You took a moment to look Tony over. Peggy was not kidding – he looked exactly like Howard, and certainly acted like him, too. They had the same eyes, the same face, and the same attitude; it was almost like looking at a clone of Howard. Your eyes filled with unshed tears but you pushed them back, taking a small breath as Phil continued, “this is not a consultation.”

Pepper’s eyes grew wide, “is this about the Avengers? Which I know nothing about.” She looked guilty once the words slipped.

Tony sighed as he walked away, opening up the folder and looking through it quickly, “the Avengers initiative was scrapped, I thought – and I didn’t even qualify.”

Pepper shrugged, “I didn’t know that, either.”

Tony continued, “apparently I’m volatile, self-obsessed, don’t play well with others.”

You mumbled, “kind of like Howard.” Tony pointed his finger towards you as he nodded, “and she speaks of him!”

Pepper nodded her head, “that I did know,” ignoring his comment towards you.

Phil shifted his weight, “this isn’t about personality profiles anymore.”

Tony grunted, “whatever. Ms. Potts, got a second?”

As the two were talking, screens were lit up of you, Steve, and others fighting, and you stumbled back with a slight gasp, still new to the whole holographic stuff of technology. Phil turned towards you, asking you if you were okay with a look, and you nodded. Pepper looked towards you both and back to Tony, whispering, “maybe while working on this, you can get to know her. Get to know your dad. I’ll take the jet to D.C. tonight. You have homework – a lot of homework.”

The two kissed before Pepper headed your way, “so, any chance you two are driving by LaGuardia?”

Phil nodded, “I can drop you.” Pepper smiled, “fantastic!”

The two began to walk towards the elevator as you looked on at Tony who held a holographic Tesseract in his hand. In that moment, your brain convinced yourself that was Howard, your Howie.

Tony turned towards you, “you joining them or you just gonna stare?”

You took a step back, a frown on your face as you mumbled an apology, meeting Pepper and Phil in the elevator. Pepper turned your way as the doors closed, “I’m sorry about him. When it comes to his dad and you, he gets a bit…”

You finished her sentence, “jealous. He missed out on a lot and I can imagine Howard spent too much time talking about me or Steve instead of him. I understand.”

Pepper gave a tight smile.

In a few short hours, you, Phil, Steve, and a few other S.H.I.E.L.D agents were on your way to the helicarrier, something that only a few of you knew about. You sat next to Steve, looking over Dr. Bruce Banner’s files, examining videos of him as Hulk, and how he was trying to recreate the super soldier serum. You had known about Dr. Banner and honestly, had become one of his fans – when he was in his human form, of course. His works on nuclear physics and gamma radiation greatly interested you and upon reading many of his published articles, you had completely forgotten about his condition. Having the opportunity to meet him in person was certainly one of your dreams and you just knew Bucky was making fun of you for being such a dork.

Phil stood up from his seat, walking towards you and Steve, leaning above you both. Steve looked to Phil, “this Dr. Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?”

Phil nodded, “after Howard Stark’s death in 1991, Dr. Banner made it his mission to replicate it. A lot of people were. You – you both – were the world’s first superheroes. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine’s original formula.”

Steve looked uneasy, “didn’t really go his way, did it?”

Phil shifted his weight as he looked towards you, then to Steve, “not so much. When he’s not that thing, though,” you interrupted him with a glare, “sorry, the Hulk, the guy’s like a Stephen Hawking.”

Steve looked to you, confusion written on his face. You shrugged, “a really smart person.”

Silence enveloped the three of you until you nodded to Phil, urging him to continue. Phil seemed all giddy, “I gotta say, it’s an honor to meet you officially. I’ve sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping.”

You snorted as Steve nervously smiled at Phil, covering your face as he continued, “I mean, I was present while you were unconscious from the ice.” Steve stood up as you continued laughing, making his way to the front of the jet, “you know, it’s just a huge honor to have you on board this.”

You followed Phil, clapping him on the back as Steve overlooked the ocean, “thank you for that, Phil, truly.”

Steve elbowed you as he mumbled, “I hope we’re the people for the job.”

Phil’s eyes lit up, “oh, you are – you both are, absolutely! We, uh, made some modifications to your suits, by the way.”

You glanced towards Phil – now this was what you missed.

-

honeybee taglist:

@clownerlyluv

@ginger-swag-rapunzel

@starkleila

@intothesoul

[zukkoxx]

mha boys realizing they’re in love pt.1

w/ deku, bakugo

tw⚠️ insecurities!, self doubt!

deku 🥦

izuku knew he loved you since you guys started dating.

he had liked you for a long time, and when you finally got together in your last year of UA, he couldn’t have been happier.

he planned on living the rest of his life with you. and would go through any feats to make it possible.

so when you started to feel doubts about your relationship? that was a wake up call for him.

you had just finished training, all sweaty and tired, walking back to your dorm with a towel around your neck.

you scrolled through your phone mindlessly, and just happened to come across a twitter post about your boyfriend, deku, who had just taken down one of the villains that’s been on the run for months.

you smiled. you were so proud of him. already achieving his dream in becoming one of the greatest heroes. and getting the recognition he finally deserved.

you made it your your dorm, slumping on your bed as you read some of the comments.

woah this guy is still attending UA!? he’ll be a great hero for sure

there’s no one like him!

deku strikes again! what a stud😍

you laughed at some, grimaced at others that claimed the mission was too easy for him. but one particular comment had you freezing in your spot.

is he single? i won’t hesitate to run to the scene and give him my hand in marriage right now!

you knew it was a fun, lighthearted comment. but you clicked the the commenters page and instantly noticed how beautiful as preppy she was.

she was also a big deku fan...probably had more merch than you.

you sighed and threw your phone across the bed.

for the past few weeks, you had been thinking about how different you and izuku were in terms of success.

you were both in your last year of high school, and he had already done so much.

worked on so many cases with pro heroes and went through successful missions all the time. he was destined to become the greatest hero.

and you?

well, you’ve never even caught a villain.

sure you’ve helped out on low grade missions for the hero you interned under, but you had never been publicly praised like izuku. you never stood out.

you had trouble believing you’d become a hero at all.

you always wondered, wouldn’t izuku be better off with someone that could keep up with him? who wouldn’t hold him back. someone who he wouldn’t leave in the dust when he excelled in the future.

he deserved someone better.

your thoughts were cut off when your dorm door brushed open, revealing no other than the man himself.

izuku walked into your room with worried eyes and seemed out of breath.

“y/n? ive texted and called a bunch of times. why haven’t you answered?” he asked, and you subtly turned to your phone that you discarded on the other half of the bed.

“my ringer was off. sorry izu.” you tired to give him a smile as he sat next to you on your bed. “i saw an article about your mission today. you were amazing!” you complimented.

“ahh you give me too much credit. i couldn’t have dont anything with the pro heroes and other people helping.”

“still, you’re a great hero. i wish i was like that.” you chuckle dryly, past insecurities already pushing forward again.

“what!? you’re a great hero y/n!” izuku exclaimed.

“i’ve barely done anything izuku. i don’t know how you put up with me. i should be able to help you on your missions, but i’m stuck in the same position i have been in. i don’t know when i’ll improve.”

you didn’t mean to sound so pathetic, but you had been feeling this way for so long. it was all just spilling out now.

and izuku? he literally stopped breathing when he heard what you were saying about yourself. “you deserve someone that will be able to keep up with you. what will people think when they find out the amazing deku is dating a weak, incapable, good for nothing-”

“don’t say one more word y/n.” izuku cuts you off, and you look up to meet his eyes piercing yours.

they were dark, nothing like their usual gleaming glow that shined when he looked at you.

there was no sign of amusement on any of his features. just dead seriousness

“what the hell are you talking about y/n?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a chance to respond. “you’re one of the most courageous, brave, intelligent, capable people i know! where is all of this coming from?”

“i’ve been thinking about it for a while. it’s just you’re so...amazing and i’m so...” you knew anything you could have said after that would make him even more angry. it was nothing positive.

god he probably hated you for being so insecure.

“you’re you, y/n.” izuku says softly. “you’re you and you’re who i love. i don’t care about what i do, what you do, who says what! i love you for you!”

izuku looks at you with so much love and compassion. you stared into his eyes, wondering what was gong on in his head.

well? at the moment he despised himself for letting you feel this way.

you were his whole world! the person who supported you in everything he did and he would support you in the same way! he couldn’t understand why you were feeling this way when he was literally...in love with you.

he loved you yeah of course, but hearing the way you were speaking about yourself, and how you had doubts about your relationship made his heart physically hurt. he was absolutely and unconditionally in love with you and wouldn’t be able to see himself with anyone else.

and he needed you to hear it.

“y/n you’re my everything! i’m so in love with you, no amount of fame or recognition could make me even think about leaving you!” izuku said urgently, and he finally calmed down when he saw a slight smile reach your lips.

a real one this time.

the conversation continued, and izuku promised to let you learn and remember how in love he was with you until it was the last thing he’d do.

bakugo 💥

bakugo would never pursue anyone unless he definitely knew he loved them.

so of course he never asked you out when he couldn’t differentiate if what he felt for you was love, or if it was a stupid little crush.

he didn’t like thinking about his feelings, especially the irrelevant ones.

he was trying to become the number one hero. who needed time for love anyways?

so he ignored his “feelings” for you, not allowing them to confuse him any longer.

it wasn’t until a few months into his third year when bakugo got the worst news of his life.

you were on a mission. an important one that had you absent from school for weeks.

bakugo was worried.

he’d text you every few days, asking what was going on and how things were and you’d always respond with “it’s fine.” or “we’re hanging in there.”

he assumed it was a pretty difficult mission, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

you were strong

so when he heard from a certain icy-hot that you were in the hospital in critical condition after completing the mission, he forgot about everything and ran straight to you.

ignoring aizawa’s calls, he almost blasted himself out of UA and checked every hospital for you, considering he didn’t even ask todoroki which one you were in before he left.

when he finally reached the hospital holding you, he sprinted to your room.

he found you hooked up to a bunch of wires and tests.

you looked peaceful, sleeping while the heart monitor beeped beside you.

but you looked horrible. bloody bandages covered almost every limb, and your body was covered in bruises.

bakugo’s heart dropped to his stomach. he couldn’t stand seeing you like this.

why does his feelings have to be 100x more noticeable when your tragically hurt!?

he sat down on the empty chair beside the hospital bed, wondering why no one else was visiting at this time.

he stared at you, something he couldn’t get off of his mind lately.

“why do you make me feel things, dumbass?” he asked, waiting for a response. “i never skip class! you just had to get hurt and make me skip the test review.” he rolled his eyes, but his face softened as he looked at you, still sleeping.

“i’ll help you study. you’ll probably fail without going over what we learned.”

.....

“would you wake up, you shitty woman!” he yelled, gripping the side of your bed “this is scary, you know?”

.....

“i should’ve called you today, i just assumed you’d be too busy to talk. if you told me you were in trouble, i’d blast my ass to wherever you were in a heartbeat.” bakugo said, feeling his actual heart skip a beat when you still didn’t respond. 

“please wake up...”

after about an hour of waiting, your other classmates came in, checking on your condition.

you still hadn’t woken up, but your vitals were better and your breath were more steady.

by the time night fell, everyone left; except for bakugo

he was just starting to fall asleep when he felt she. he heard you stir in the hospital bed.

his head shot up, quickly turning to face you as he saw you blinking you eyes slowly.

“y/n!” he yelled a little louder than anticipated, making you shoot awake and look at him.

you blinked a few more times before realizing who you were looking at. “katsuki!?” you asked, trying to sit up, but feeling a sharp pain in your side.

“hey! don’t move dumbass. are you okay? do you remember anything?” he frantically asked.

“umm...i’m fine?” you said, sounding like you were trying to convince yourself. “why are you here?”

“why am i here? you were admitted into the hospital in critical condition!”

“i-i’m sorry, everything’s a bit fuzzy right now.” you say softly, putting a hand on your forehead and tryin got remember everything.

bakugo softened, and waited until you got yourself together. “how long have you been here?” you ask

“since this morning.”

“this morning!? katsuki what about school? do your parents even know you’re here?”

“why the hell are you worried about me? you’re the one hooked up to all these machines and can barely move!” bakugo yelled, trying to understand why you were so focused on him being there with you.

“i just never thought you’d be the one to go out of your way to check on someone. let alone be here the whole day...” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy at the idea of bakugo keeping your sleeping body company for hours.

bakugo froze at your words.

he really wasn’t the type to go check on people for more than a few minutes. especially not one to skip school because of it.

maybe he did this because he felt a little more than what he thought he did.

maybe this wasn’t a stupid little crush? maybe it was something serious that he had just been blowing off.

when he heard about your condition, he just couldn’t stand by. there must have been something that pushed him to run to you.

“it’s cause u care about you...idiot. i wasn’t gonna a let you suffer here alone.” he huffs, crossing his arms.

“katsukiii do you like me or something?” you asked in a teasing tone

he couldn’t believe you were making jokes at a time like this. furthermore, he couldn’t believe how easy it was for you to see through his facade.

“i do.” he states. there was no point in lying.

“i was just kidding kats-“

“i’m not.” he cuts you off. “i care about you, and i like you. a lot. so...you better like be bad damn it. or i’ll blow you to bits!”

you chuckled and smiled tenderly at him. you definitely weren’t expecting him to say that, but you weren’t complaining.

“i like you too...i guess.” you smile, and katsuki tsked before smirking at you.

he finally felt like he could breath again, and that everything was going to be fine now.

except...katsuki didn’t like you. he loved you. but no way would he tell you that

this absolutely sucks i can’t believe i’m posting this. if you can, plz give me some requests so i don’t make trash hcs like this again. they’ll be a pt.2 later. hopefully it isn’t as bad as this one.

click here to send a request. i’d really appreciate it!

[jjuzoir]

Overdue | T. Shoto

request: “Hi! If your requests are still open, could I request a todoroki x reader oneshot please? Basically they’re childhood friends and go to UA together. Everyone ships them and Todoroki always treats reader super sweetly, but doesn’t realize that he’s also low-key pining for her. (always using endeavor’s credit cards to get her gifts LOL) eventually Todoroki figures out his feelings and confesses. Then the class catches them kissing in the dorms, making Todoroki and reader flustered! Thanks so much!”

a/n: this took me so long omgjdjsj fck all my reqs for this batch are taking me long :’) anyway thank you for being so patient with me @sugarandsoft ;;;

word count: 2933

When it came to romance it was safe to say Shoto was simply blind to it, the romantic feelings of those around him and himself were practically foreign to the teenager.

In all of your years of knowing him you had never once seen him actually be able to recognize the difference between friendship and crushing. To him there was no “I like you romantically” or “I don’t like you romantically”, it was always “I like you as a friend” or “I don’t like you as a friend”. The whole liking someone, crushing on them, dating-courting thing was as complicated as astrophysics is to an eight year old. Which led to everyone around him to immediately be put in the friendzone the minute they got to know him.

Everyone knew that, especially Class 1-A who had to bear witness to one of their top students crush hopelessly on you without even being aware of it. They knew, other students knew, the teachers knew, your parents knew, his mother knew, the League of Villains knew— everyone knew that Todoroki Shoto of class 1-A has a big, fat crush on you except Todoroki Shoto himself. Hell, it was so obvious All for One could’ve seen he had a crush on you.

It was the “little” thing that gave it away, like using the number-two-pro-hero’s credit card to get you a new phone because yours got a small crack. When confronted about it, he’d always say the same thing.

“She’s my friend and I enjoy using the old man’s money,” he’d scowl at Midoriya— Shoto’s self proclaimed wingman and president of the [Name] x Shoto club, who had questioned his spending habits when it came to you.

“So you'd do the same thing for any friend?” Izuku would push the boy further, he was going to get him to realize he liked you even if it killed him- and by the way the year had been going and Shoto’s complete obliviousness to the situation, the latter seemed more likely.

“I guess.”

“Oh really? Then where the fuck is my new phone, lukewarm? If you’re gonna call me your ‘friend’ where is my phone?” Bakugou questioned him with a snarl.

“Yours isn’t cracked, Bakugou-”

“Is that what it takes? ‘Cause I’m gonna do it!”

“Hey Izuku- what’s going on?” Ochako looked at the trio in front of her, easily being drawn to the loud noises coming from the living area.

“Half-’n-Half over here is gonna buy us new phones if we crack ours.”

“I see…”

“Seriously?” Mina barges into the room to pick up the teasing where the blond has left off, “But I like my phone- oh! I know, instead of a phone why don’t you get me some new sneakers!”

“And if I break my house, would you get me a new one?” The brunette asks, she’d rather shoot her shot or miss trying.

“So- you’re gonna admit you’d only do it for [Name] are you gonna need help placing some orders?” Bakugo smirks at Todoroki.

“Ochako and I can check real estate for you!” Mina giggles.

But rather than answering, the bi-colored haired teen simply looked down and mumbled to himself, annoyed; “I’m not buying anyone anything.”

Safe to say he didn’t keep his word because not a day later and he had bought you a new TV after you joked about getting tired of going down the stairs to the shared living space.

He’d make exceptions for you all the time, always covering it with the excuse of “she’s been my friend for longer”, even when it didn’t make much sense. From his limited physical contact rule to the reckless spending, you had him wrapped around your pinky and he didn’t even know it. Everyone would always tease you two about it yet both of you dense as rock to the implications never really paid them much mind.

But soon Todoroki was confused, really confused, by his peers and their words; they were constantly insinuating that he liked you in a more than friends way. At first it was easier to deny such claims, you were just friends— but the more the pestering continued the more aware he was of the ways his heart seemed to flutter at the mention of your name or how he began noticing how he stared at you more often than the rest.

But he couldn’t like you, you were his first real friend— the only person in his life that was always there, if he did like you and he did act out his alleged feelings there was always the possibility you’d say no. And that scared Todoroki more than he’d like to admit. You, on the other hand, did acknowledge the butterflies he’d bring you and welcomed them with open arms. Knowing your chances with him were slim, you unknowingly turned a blind eye to his behavior, chalking it up to him seeing you as his best friend (as much as it might’ve pained you to think like that).

It didn’t take long for you to notice how he seemed more hesitant around you, how he was shying away from your touch and the way he��d avoid giving you any response longer than two sentences, soon enough he was practically avoiding you altogether, and you were worried. In all of your years being his friend, Shoto had never been so cold and distant with you. Had you upset him? It was a complete 180º from before and it left you wondering why.

“Ugh, he’s just-! I’m so annoyed, Ochako!” You groaned into your pillows, “He's never acted like this before, he’s barely talked to me in weeks! I don’t know what I did or what to do.”

“[Name], it’s okay! He has been pretty off lately,” the brunette patted your back, “You should try talking to him!”

“How am I supposed to talk to him when he barely even lets me get near?”

“Hm, maybe leave him a note!” She suggests, brown eyes looking at you sympathetically.

“A note?” You look up and meet her gaze, “Huh…”

And so you did it, you scribbled down a meeting place and signed it anonymously before huffing, stuffing it in your bag and deciding.

“Dear Todoroki, please meet me in the kitchen after practice. It’s very important, you really need to come!”

Simple, short— straight to the point with little to no wiggle room for interpretation (other than a very insistent and kind of annoying person, but that’s a price to pay for the restoration of your friendship), if he didn’t come you’d simply harass him with more notes until he gave up or had enough to open up a paper store. Hopefully the former because you doubted you’d have enough post-it notes or the money for that many.

“Hmph! That should do,” you rub your hands before throwing a thumbs up at your friend, “Thank Ochako, I owe you big time!”

That morning you told Izuku and Iida about Ochako’s plan and how you hoped they’d make sure Shoto actually came to the meeting place.

“But, don’t you think he might, I don’t know,” the freckled boy scratched at his neck, “Think you’re going-to-confess-or-something?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” You look at Midoriya confused.

“He means that Shoto might think the note might be from someone who wants to declare their feelings for him.” Tenya informs you, maybe a bit too matter of factly for your liking no one likes being talked down to.

“Don’t worry guys, I think a love confession is the farthest thing Shoto will assume this is.” You wave your hands in an attempt to convince them otherwise.

“There is no way this is going to be a confession.” Bi-colored eyes squint at the blonde that walked besides him.

“Look, all I’m saying is this definitely smells like a confession scene to me,” Denki smirks at Todoroki, “The kitchen is a weird place though, maybe they’ve baked you some sweets! Bro, you’re so lucky!”

“You might want to check your nose because there’s simply no way, Kaminari.”

“Why?” Sero smiles as he asks, “You’re pretty popular with girls, why can’t this be another confession?”

“Because,” Shoto snatches the note from the black-haired boy’s hand, “This is [Name]’s handwriting.”

“Wait a minute-! You’re telling me she’s making a move before you?” Kirishima asks in surprise, “I knew you liked her but I had no idea she liked you back, huh. I can kind of see it though.”

“What are you even saying?” The boy in question grumbles, he knew he should’ve gone with Midoiya and Iida but he knew you were going to be there and he didn’t want to risk being a fool. Now he’s got dumb, dumber and the dumbest giving him butterflies by insinuating you like him back, great.

“That she likes you, dude!”

“Totally! And you- you like her back! So all you gotta do now is go accept her confession and stop moping around being all pathetic- ow!” Kaminari rubbed his arm, cursing Kaminari’s strength.

“Don’t say that!”

“Yeah, at least not to his face.”

Todoroki simply rolled his eyes at the boys before hurrying up his pace, today was going to be long as he asks himself if he should really go.

He had a lot to think about, this information was important to him; there’s a chance you like him and the thought made him happy— very, very happy. Just the idea that you might return these feelings, which he’s still trying to come to terms with, just confirms it in his mind that he, Todoroki Shoto, does like you; in a more than friends way. He’s not going to let the chance slip away.

By the time he’s at the meeting spot, he can’t deny that he’s excited even if  his face doesn’t really show it. He had been confessed to many times but this was different because, for the first time, he planned on saying yes.

He heard you approaching, the soft tap of slippers matching the beat of his heart. He liked you, he really did like you and you liked him back.

As you turn around the corner you’re met with a frowning Shoto and are slightly taken aback at his serious expression. You knew he tended to be quite inexpressive sometimes but after a while of not hanging around you can understand why others are off-put by his cold features and intimidating stature.

“Shoto, you’re here.” Even through your shock you still smiled at your friend, relived he’d even shown up with the way he’d been avoiding you. You make your way near the counter, before sitting on top of it, you had chosen the kitchen in case that he'd forgotten about the note but be there anyway getting himself something.

You’d have to be quick before he’d run away,  wanting to get straight to the point and ask him what had been going on. You cared about him and you missed him, you didn’t intend on wasting more time.

“I know it’s sudden but you've been avoiding me all week and I’m sick of it! I really care about you Shoto and you ignoring me like this hurts-!” You stuttered, too caught up in trying to pour out all your feelings at once— accidentally giving him the confirmation he needed that this was indeed a confession.

“It’s okay, I think I know what you mean,” he cuts in, his expression softening, “And I feel the same way too.”

“Huh-? Shoto what are you-?” You look around the room confused, if he knew how you felt then why did he continue avoiding you? Did he even really know what you were talking about?

“I was scared,” he continues paying your previous statement no mind, slowly approaching your sitting form before taking your hand, “that’s why I avoided you but knowing that you feel the same way, makes me happy I guess.”

You blink in confusion, what was he talking about? Neither of you were on the same page, you probably weren’t even in the same chapter, you furrow your eyebrows at the thought.

“Shoto, just to get this straight,” you look into his eyes causing him to blush a soft pink, what the hell was going on, “what feelings are we- uh, talking about?”

First he avoids you like the plague, now he’s blushing and talking about feelings? What did he think this was?

“Like.” He says staring at you in confusion as if you were the one not making sense.

“Like what?”

“Like.” Todoroki looks at you, soft skin creasing at the frown that was now adorning his face.

“Like what, Shoto?”

“Like as in ‘I like you’-like.” He squeezes your hand and you’re thankful you’re sitting down or else you think you’d fallen over at his words.

“Wait, you like me?” At the realization of what you had been just talking about it’s your turn to blush, the blood rushing to your cheeks giving them a soft glow, “You had been avoiding me because you liked me?”

“Well, yes, I just said that,” a pale hand comes to hold your cheek, “[Name], are you feeling alright?”

“You like me?”

He nods, a soft smile in his face as he assures you with a hug;  “I really do”.  This wasn’t the conversation you were expecting but it wasn’t unwelcomed either. In a way, it did answer your question but it left you in a bit of a dilemma because you did like Shoto and he liked you but, now, what did that make both of you?

“Do you like me?” He asked, his hand rubbing your back delicately and a sense of nostalgia washes over you as you remember all the times you’d comforted him when you both were younger. You just nod in fear of your voice giving out and accidentally ruining the moment.

“Are we- uh, dating now?” You ask into his shoulder, the soft smell of his shampoo filling your senses,

“Only if you want to.” He whispers. Neither of you were really physically affectionate with each other before this, at least not since you were little kids, but Shoto had to admit that holding you close like this was nice. Even if it had only been a week or two, you missed him and he missed you a lot and being able to hug you so freely made his heart feel like it was about to burst.

“I’d love to.” You pull away slightly from the hug to face him, your noses touching ever so slightly. You were happy, not only was your relationship with Todoroki restored but it had leveled up and you swore it was as if you were floating.

With hesitant hands he pulls you closer and you close your eyes, he smelt like soft wood and tea and you were reminded of all the times you’d go over to his house where a little Shoto would show you around his room and toys, excited to have a friend his father approved of. You were proud of the way he’d grown, how he’d soften up and learned, how he was able to let go of the anger and grow into himself, you always liked Shoto and to finally be able to be his girlfriend was all you could want right now.

“Can I?” He asked, the whisper soft and delicate in your lips; you nod.

His lips meet yours for a second, a sweet peck that left you giggling into him. You both pull away for a second before kissing once more, it was longer and almost sickeningly sick. You could taste the mint from him and you wondered if he could taste the sweets you had been eating earlier.

But, of course, in class 1-A nothing is really a secret for long and you hear clapping from behind you. Shocked, you both pull away flushed red as your friends are left stifling laughs. The kitchen door is wide open and you can see most of them pilling against the frame with wide eyes.

“Fucking finally, I thought we were gonna graduate before you two got together.” Bakugo is the first to speak.

“I’m surprised they even kissed, I thought it was going to take them another 15 years to get there!” Mina giggles to Ochako who can only nod in amusement, she gives you a thumbs up and you roll your eyes.

“How did you even know we were here? Aren’t you meant to be at practice or something?” You ask them, clutching Shoto’s shirt in an attempt to hide your face.

“Come on, you passed the note to Kaminari and Sero and expected us to not come?”

“I wonder what your kid’s quirk is gonna be like,” Midoriya mumbles into his hand, “Will they get both of Todoroki’s quirks plus [Name]’s?”

“Izuku! Don’t say things like that!” Iida begins scolding the green-head much to both your boyfriend and your amusement, “To say something so suggestive when they’ve only gotten together-!”

“Iida now you’re making it creepy!” Everyone begins grumbling, some annoyed and some laughing at the comments and the once peaceful and romantic atmosphere turns rowdy as everyone starts talking about the newly formed relationship.

“Great now I can’t use the kitchen without thinking about you two making out!” The blonde grumbled before storming out bringing with him a new round of laughs as you and Shoto blush awkwardly.

Safe to say, none of your classmates will ever let you live down how long it took you two to get together.

[shoichee]

Hello❤️❤️❤️ congrats with 100 followers🥳🥳🥳 hope the audience will expand😍 and can I repeat myself again? I love your works😍

So, can I request 5 with Himuro?

hihihihihi!! ty sm for your support squeeeeee, sure you can repeat again, think of it as a thank you for being there since the beginning <333 i actually have so much requests now it’s kind of crazy!

Himuro x Reader

5. “Well. Yell, scream, say something. Anything”

Word Count: 2255

prompt list here

TW: attempted assault and stalking, nothing graphic, but these are the main subjects for this scenario, so PLEASE PLEASE take care of yourself first if these topics trigger you and avoid them!

»»—————　☼　—————««

Himuro felt helpless.

The Winter Cup that year when Seirin rightfully won was over months ago, but even still, there is still a part of him that gnaws at him from the inside of his consciousness. Ever since he failed to stop Haizaki from making unwanted advances on his mentor.

No matter how much Alex assured him that it wasn’t a big deal, no matter how easily she shrugged the incident off, there is still a festering guilt that eats him away at how useless he was in protecting the people he cared about. He couldn’t even protect Kagami as an “elder brother,” and he couldn’t even protect Alex as a “male” against another male. Still, no matter how much he chastises himself for having such immature thoughts, they’ve continued to overstay their welcome. What kind of traits does an “elder brother” or a capable “male” even entail?

Someone who wouldn’t be beaten and swatted like a fly…

Someone who wouldn’t just sit idly by when someone is being wronged…

Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to fight back to protect someone, even despite the consequences…

But if that’s the case�� that’s just the definition of a person with human decency, isn’t it? Yes, perhaps that is why he still mulls over the encounter to this day. First he split off his brotherhood with Kagami over a one-track goal of an equal rivalry, and then he talked down to his mentor before his Winter Cup game that evening… In the end, he was absolutely pathetic, losing to Kagami’s inborn talent and getting beat down while watching his teacher getting harassed and choked. He easily accepted the fact that Kagami surpassed him with his basketball… The latter? Not so much.

He hasn’t really talked about his inner turmoil with anyone. Atsushi is someone who would not care too much about the complex emotions that he’s currently harboring, much less help deal with them. His other teammates are graduating and too occupied with final exams. He could speak with Alex, but by now, she’s moved back to America, and a part of him doesn’t want to call her out of his self-consciousness and humiliation. You?… He could confide his troubles with you… but a part of him whispers that you’d think less of him if you knew how incapable he really was.

After all, if he couldn’t even protect you as your boyfriend… no, he’d rather not go too far into that thought.

He smiles at the thought of you openly complimenting everything of him every time he subconsciously downplays himself, whether it was his basketball skills or his looks or even his habits. He always thought about how cute you were when you always made exaggerated hand movements to express your sincerity when you shower him with compliments, even if he always told you that you never had to go that far in saying such things. (You always insisted that they’re true and he was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for anyways.)

To someone like Himuro who had always hid their inferiority complex and other entangling insecurities behind a mask of a genial smile, your words always reassured him that he wasn’t treating you horribly or neglecting you or just being downright selfish. Just like what happened with Kagami. Just like what happened with Alex. He just hopes he doesn’t fuck this up somehow with you too.

He had always apologized for how he couldn’t spend as much time with you as he wanted to; basketball practice doesn’t spare anyone, after all. Still, you would smack his arm and push him to the gym as you scolded him to focus on what he loved to do best. Ah, he really didn’t deserve you… how you were so understanding he would never know.

But dusk fell at another early-February weekday; it was still quite chilly, cold enough to see his own puffs of warm exhales. His hands are cold, but the rest of his body burns from running laps and repeating shooting drills moments earlier. His ears grow hotter still when he remembers that you two had planned a simple outing near the coffee shop around the corner.

“Atsushi!” Himuro turns back to call out to the center player. “I need to be going now.”

“Hmph,” Murasakibara huffs in reply. “I was gonna ask you to take me to that new booth to try out new samples.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, noting the faint mist escaping his lips. “I’ll take you there next time, Atsushi. I have a date planned with (y/n)-san right now.”

“Tch, I’m leaving before you get too mushy on me. Buh-bye~” the giant drawls, casually strolling down the opposite path. Himuro manages to hold back a mild snort before he makes his way to head to the shop you two agreed to meet up at. Propping up his phone to look for your name to send a text, his eyes widen as he registers your name popping up on his screen as an incoming call. What a coincidence. You must’ve been anticipating this too. He smiles as he envisioned your anticipation at the table before he picks up on your call.

“Tatsuya?…” your voice rang.

“(y/n)-san,” he teased. “I didn’t think of you as an impatient person. Can’t wait to see me?”

“Yeah,” you said, but something about your voice was overly cheerful.

“Don’t worry,” Himuro hummed. “I’ll be there really soon. Give me 5 minutes.” He assumed it was just your excitement taking over that made you sound different than usual. He was about to hang up before you spoke again.

“A-Anywho!” you say. “How was practice, Tatsuya?”

“Hmm, the same it has always been,” he replies. “Just drills and laps before running a few practice games. Why do you ask?”

“No reason! C-Can’t I check up on you sometimes?”

“Of course you can, (y/n)-san,” he reassures you. There was a silence from your end, but he can hear how your breaths quickened over the line. He then registered some footsteps and maneuvers on the concrete and furrowed his brows in mild confusion. “… Hey, is there something wrong?”

“A-Ah yes! I’m at the laundromat right a-around the corner!” Your voice slightly peaks at the end. “Y-Yeah, yeah! I can’t wait to… s-see you soon! Uh, huh, m-mhm! You’re near right now, right? Yeah! You-you’re almost there!…” By now, your voice has taken on an almost hysterical tone.

“(y/n)?… (y/n)!” he half-shouts into his phone. “(y/n)! Can you still hear me! Where are you?!… Laundromat, right?” He breaks into a brisk run, ignoring the disapproving stares of other pedestrians on the sidewalk.

“I-I-I’m near the alley adjacent to the laundromat!… Yeah! C-Can’t wait to see you! O-Oh, don’t forget… um, to bring your wallet. S-Silly, you always forget to bring money, so… s-so…” You completely break your facade with a faint voice crack and a sniffle at the end. “Please… please hurry…”

Himuro pushes himself to a full sprint, completely disregarding etiquette as he pushes a few people to the side. His cold hands struggle to cease from shaking as he clutches his phone harder, as if he was holding onto you for dear life. Something terrible might happen to you, and if something happened to you on his watch…

Please, please, please, fucking god, please—please make it on time—

He grits his teeth and screams at his legs to move faster when he hears a stifled sob and a cry from your end.

“A-ah please…” you whisper. “They’re coming—they’re, Himuro, I don’t know where to ru—” All he heard after was a terrified scream before the line cut off.

Fuck, hurry up, hurry the fuck up—

———

Your phone was completely shattered on the floor, and you swore you had a few broken shards embedded in your skin somewhere from the harsh impact. That didn’t matter though. Not when there were two men grabbing you and trying to muffle your cries for help.

You try to use your elbow to hit their weakest parts, their joints, to loosen their grip. It worked, but as soon as you took a few steps, the other just tackled you to the floor to completely immobilize you.

You screamed, you kicked, you slapped, you elbowed, you punched, you flailed, but nothing seemed effective against two bodies, twice the size and twice the strength of your own.

You pitifully wail as a last desperate attempt, but in the quiet corner of the neighborhood, nobody seems to heed your cries for help. The sun had completely set by now, the year still experiencing the darkness of a winter night; by now, most are already at home relaxing. Their weight on your body was suffocating and you don’t know whether the pain was from the rough concrete, the shards, their weight, or all of the above.

You register them heaving you up with a firm hold on you still and shoving you to walk to the nearest vehicle they owned, and your legs are absolutely trembling from the shallow wounds you accumulated from the roughing and from the fear of the uncertainty of what would happen to you.

———

When Himuro lays eyes on your roughed-up state and the two men restraining you, all his fury and guilt and fear comes rushing back from his encounter with Haizaki.

He is not a rational man right now. He is not thinking of being the “bigger person.” He is not thinking about being a model athlete nor proper sportsmanship nor disqualification. There are no such thoughts of consequences, not when your life is being jeopardized.

He does not fucking care that he looks like the aggressor when he throws a left hook at the first man. He does not fucking care that the second man looks like his shoulder got dislocated. For once, he does not fucking care how his violent actions might cost him his prospective basketball career.

When he pulls your trembling body into his arms and feels how warm you are against his body in the night chills of an early-February weekday, he breathes out a long cloud of air, slowly calming himself as he hugs you more firmly against his side and pulls up to dial the local police.

He feels a slight sense of relief when he can feel you instinctively snuggling into his side for solace.

———

The local officers immediately got the gist once they saw the scene of two sprawled men, a terrified you, and a protective Himuro. After checking the nearby CTE cameras, their suspicions were confirmed. They still ask Himuro a few basic questions before they haul them off to the station; Himuro mostly answers for you.

Once the quiet fills the neighborhood again, you release a shuddering breath; Himuro knows because he can see your own mist from the corner of his eye. Still, you haven’t spoken a word since then.

“(y/n)…” he murmurs, bending down to your level to survey the scratches and bruises on your body before he hesitantly looks at your eyes. “Well… yell, scream, say something—anything… please.”

“… Can you… hug me again?”

“… Of course.”

And you both embrace tightly, Himuro tucking your head into his chest as you nuzzle as much as you could into his body.

“… Did they do anything to you?”

“They roughed me up and all, but… thank god you came…”

“They still put their hands on you—I couldn’t protect you—”

“… Why do you look so much more distraught than me, Tatsuya?”

“Because, I—I can’t do anything for the people I love and care about, and I… never mind, do you… want me to walk you home?”

“Wait, Tatsuya…” you whispered. “Let’s talk for a bit, please talk to me.”

“Our date—”

“Which we can always reschedule,” you said, bringing Himuro’s head down to nuzzle against your shoulders.

“If I was there faster—if I was there, this wouldn’t have…”

“Because you were there,” you corrected him. “I am able to experience another day, another tomorrow… especially by your side, where I’m happiest.”

“You must’ve been so scared—damn it, I—”

“Yeah… I’m still shaken up from that, to be honest,” you sighed. “I’m… just a bit paranoid about being alone in the dark now, but you saved me from the worst case scenario—Tatsuya, what’s wrong?! Are you crying—?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, quickly separating from you to rub his stray tears away before attempting to smile. “I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around. Please don’t mind me.”

“Oh silly,” you mused. “I’m dating you too. I want to be able to protect and care for you in my own way, too.”

“It’s getting dark, though. We should really start walking.”

“And we can talk while we do. I demand you to snuggle while we walk, too.”

“Haha… how could I ever say no to you, (y/n)?” He feels that gnawing sense of guilt and patheticness rearing up its head again, but when he looks at your earnest eyes even despite what transpired a few moments ago, the fact that you were safe and in his arms was more than enough to quell those feelings away.

In the lulls of a chilly early-February night, Himuro wraps a comforting arm over your figure as he draws a shuddering breath before he hesitantly begins. You look up at his face expectantly to show that you were giving him undivided attention as encouragement.

“It was during the Winter Cup a few months ago…”

———

End Note: being stalked by a dude in a CAR was NOT FUN. IT WAS NOT A FUN TIME !! 😭 unlike this y/n here, I had no one to “call” and pretend that I was meeting up with them because my walk route home comprised of only houses and streets, so that was something else OOF I was thinking of the worst case scenarios at the time;;;

[anarcoqueer1994]

So I wrote this and I'm pretty proud it. Some pre-serum 1930s Stucky, period accurate homophobia. If you like it I linked my ao3 for the other two chapters. Am I cringy? Probs but whateves

It is probably one of the coldest winters Bucky could remember. He was thankful that the end of the day was finally here. The biting temperatures were amplified by the air off of the cold water. More importantly though, going home meant he could go check on Steve, his tenement mate, and long-time best friend. Steve have come down with a bout of pneumonia a couple weeks back. He is still fighting to get his strength back, still breaking out in coughing fits and struggling to get around. His weak immune system made sure that it was not going to be easy to get over this. Honestly, Bucky hated that he had to leave him alone all day to work, but they needed the money to afford the rent, even if their tenement was too small and the heat wasn’t the best. So Bucky just spent the day going through the worse possible scenarios in his head. What if Steve got worse while he was away? What if Steve fell somewhere in the apartment because he is too stubborn to stay in bed, and now couldn’t get up? Was he laying their freezing not able to get back to his bed? What if he…dies because I am not there to help him? But now he could get home and check on Steve.

“James!’ Bucky turned around to hear Bill calling after, as he walking away for the day. Bill was another one of the grunt workers at dock. Nice enough guy, kind of rough. Probably his closest “work friend.” Bucky waits for him to catch up.

“Yea?” he says casually, trying not to show the impatience in his voice for the man that is unknowingly delaying him from getting to Steve.

“Want to go get a drink with some of the guys? Maybe we’ll run into some dames desperate enough for a good time to give your ugly mug a chance?” He wiggles his eye brows jokingly.

“No thanks, I’m good, actually.” Bucky replies, turning to leave.

“Oh come on, you never come out. Let loose a little, pal.” Bill pushes.

“I just need to get home…” Bucky responds, a little annoyed at this point because of the hold up.

“What’s the rush?”

“It’s just Steve is at home and he’s expecting me.” Bucky lies. Steve wouldn’t care if he went out. He would tell Bucky he deserves it. In actuality, he was too worried to go out and have fun, not when Steve was at home, miserable.

“Come on then, invite him out too. You guys can meet us at the bar.” Bill offers.

“Maybe another night, Steve is pretty sick. Getting over pneumonia.” Bucky goes to turn away again.

“Then why are you in a rush?” He laughs. “If he’s sick, he’s probably just laying down in bed. No need to babysit.”

Bucky ignores he question and just repeats, “Like I said, maybe another night.”

Bill lets out a little amused huff. “Interesting.”

His tone of voice gets the better of Bucky. “Interesting? What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky interrogates.

“Nothing, man. Forget about it.” Bill half-heartedly replies.

Bucky of course will not forget about it. “No, what did you mean?” His voice a little more irritated sounding then he intended.

Bill shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “It’s just some of the guys…”

“Some of the guys, what?” Bucky urges.

“Some of the guys say you’re a little funny, you know.” Many of the guys on the crew have grown up in the same neighborhood as Steve and Bucky and as such have known them, or at least seen them for a long time.

Bucky feels a sudden weight on his chest but does not let it show. “Funny how, Bill?” though he is terrified that he know what he means.

“You know, you and that roommate are pretty close and have been for a long time. Sometimes it just appears…” he hesitates, thinking about how to say it. “It appears like you treat him how you would treat a dame you were into. It just seems a little queer.” From behind Bill, he could see some of the guys eavesdropping. Some are smirking, and a few other are snickering. Some even are shooting disgusted looks at Bucky.

Bucky stops his face from faltering from the apathetic look he has put on. He replies loud enough for those assholes who are listening in to hear. “Well, I can assure you Bill, that Steve is my best friend, and that’s all, okay?” In reality, his heart is beating through his chest. Had it been that obvious that he liked Steve? How long have they been passing stories about this.

Bill cracks a smile and slaps Bucky on the shoulder. “Yeah, okay. I knew those guys had to wrong about you. Come out and join us later if you change your mind.” Bill gives Bucky the name of the bar they’ll be at, as he politely listens, not intending on changing his mind. As he leaves, he can tell a lot of the guys do not seem to believe him.

Walking home, Bucky was stuck in his head. He didn’t think people could tell how he felt about Steve. Did he act more like Steve’s fella than his friend? How could they tell? To be fair, he hadn’t been lying about Steve just being his friend. Just because Bucky was a little “light in the loafers”, did not mean that he feelings for Steve were requited. Steve was such a good guy and a model Catholic. No way was Steve into him the same way.

Probably for the best since guys liking other guys that way wasn’t looked on very favorably. The anti-sodomy laws made that clear. Plus, he didn’t particularly like the idea of having to get into fist fight with guys who may make a remark at him…or god forbid Steve.

He shakes his, getting himself out of his own thoughts. He didn’t want to think about these what ifs anymore. Maybe he would try harder to act less like a boyfriend to Steve and more like his super manly, non-homosexual, best friend. Its’s not like he didn’t like women, he just preferred Steve more. But he could be less doting. He didn’t need to babysit his best friend. Bill was right, Steve was probably just sleeping and didn’t need him. Maybe he would just stop at home, check in momentarily, and then take them up on his offer to drink with the guys. He hypes himself up in his head as he reaches the steps leading up to his door. These thoughts left his head as soon as he opened the door.

He could hear a pretty bad coughing fit from the bedroom. The place was freezing. The shitty radiator must be on the fritz. It was warmer than outside but not by much. It couldn’t be more than 40 degrees in that house, the paper-thin walls doing little to keep the heat in. Bucky makes his way to the little gas stove. The tenement was only 3 rooms, the front room that consisted of a little seating area and a modest kitchen (if you van call it that. It was a little sink and gas stove, with one cupboard), the bathroom (the only room with a door), and their share bedroom. He turns on the oven, and leaves it open so the heat could radiate through out the place. He discards his shoes and jacket in the front room. Then he quietly makes his way to the back bedroom, not knowing if the previous coughing fit indicated if he was a wake or not. If Steve was asleep, he didn’t want to wake him.

When he walks through the doorway to bedroom, his friend is huddled under some the blankets. He notices that Steve is still covered in his own blanket, as well Bucky’s blanket that he had laid on top of him this morning when he left for work. Steve’s face sticks out slightly even though he pulled the blanket over his head. He is definitely not feeling great. He is awake but kind of staring off in the distance. His usual pale features somehow look paler when punctuated with the dark circles under his eyes. Of course, he hasn’t slept well in a while, constantly being woken up in fits of coughing and wheezing. He hasn’t noticed that Bucky has walked in. There is no way Bucky can leave and go to the bar though after seeing this.

“Hey Stevie.” Bucky puts on a smile, knowing that Steve hates when Bucky stares at him like some pathetic sick thing. Steve looks up and for a moment it looks like a light entered his eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago. Bucky likes to think he did not imagine it and Steve genuinely lights up because of him. Probably wishful thinking but it’s a nice though.

“Hey Buck!” He tries to sound stronger than he felt. He hated making Bucky worry but he knew his friend, He inevitably is. He pushes himself up lamely to rest his back against the wall behind his mattress. He is still wrapped up in the blankets, still shivering faintly. “So how was work?” Steve asks, just kind of wanting to talk to Bucky. He would never admit it to Bucky, but he hated feeling alone all day while the other man was at work.

Bucky makes his way across the room, sitting on the little wooden stool by Steve’s bed so he could face his friend. His smile had disappeared momentarily when Bucky thought back to conversation he had right before leaving. But he recovers quicky to reply. “Nothing special. Cold as hell though. And this damn apartment is freezing, not making it any better.”

“Yea, I think the radiator is busted. Tried to tell the sup, but I couldn’t get out of bed. I’m sorry Buck.” He gives a sad smile. Times like this made Steve feel so useless, couldn’t even make sure the heat was working so Bucky was cold after working outside all day.

“No problem, pal. Tomorrow’s my day off. I’ll handle it.” Bucky smiles before realizing how sad Steve still looks. He leans over and puts his hand on Steve’s blanket covered shoulder. “Buddy, I promise it is not a big deal, you cannot help that you are sick.”

Steve sighs miserably. “Doesn’t mean, it doesn’t make me feel pretty worthless. For god sakes, look how pathetic I am. I have both blankets and am still shivering like some babe.” He averts his eyes to his lap, avoiding Bucky’s gaze.

This breaks Bucky’s heart, to hear how little Steve thinks about himself. Steve Rogers had the biggest heart out of everyone he knows. He has gotten into so many fights (that he could not win) just because he saw some in justice. Steve was the best person he has ever met so hearing this from him is difficult. “Stevie…” the familiar nickname instinctively causes Steve to look back at Bucky. “I hate to tell you this, bud, but you are wrong. You are pretty great and all this stuff about being worthless or pathetic, is bullshit.”

Steve lets out a nervous huff before quietly whispering “Thanks, Buck…”

“Anytime.” Bucky smiles back at him.

“But, umm hey Bucky…”

“Yeah?”

“Here...” Steve starts to shimmy out the outer blanket belonging to the slightly older man.

“Hey no…” Bucky puts up his hands to signal to stop. “You need that, it is freezing in here and you are sick.”

“Yea but we can’t have you getting sick, either Buck. You may not have my immune system but you can get still get sick.

“Steve.” Bucky says firmly. “I will not take that blanket from you.”

Steve sighs, sometimes Bucky can be as stubborn as he is. “Fine but I can’t have you freezing to death. Come up here. We can share the blanket,” Steve says it so matter-of-factly, like nothing he said was weird. And I guess it wasn’t it is not like they haven’t shared a bed before. Except, in light the conversation at work Bucky can’t help but to start to over think it. Luckily for him, Steve clears his throat to get Bucky’s attention when he notices him staring off. “Hey Buck…did you hear me? Come on, get up here.”

Bucky wants to get up there, god knows he does. To Steve it seemed to be a very practical thing, cold apartment, limited blankets, two bodies make more heat than one, etc. But to Bucky, it felt like so much more. He loved being that close to Steve. And that was his problem. Thinking fast he says “I should start supper. I’m going to heat up the stew for us that Mrs. Andrews dropped off yesterday.” Mrs. Andrews being the nice widow from upstairs.

“Oh…” Steve says before letting a smile come back to his face. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he would say Steve almost sounded disappointed. He did not allow himself to dwell on it too long. Instead, he quickly stands up and makes his way to the kitchen. He throws the small pot of stew on the stoves so he can warm it up.

After a few minutes, he hears Steve shuffle into the room. It really was much warmer in that since the oven, and now the stove, have been on. Steve takes a quiet seat at their modest table.

“You didn’t have to come out. I would have brought you dinner, Stevie.” Bucky says, eyes on the pot in front of him.

“S’okay, I needed to stretch my legs…” No sooner did he say that, did another coughing fit came on. It sounded almost painful, and Bucky could only imagine how raw Steve’s throat must feel. He made his was to his friend, carrying a handkerchief to help with the mess of snot and flem coming from the other man. He stops in front of his friend, crouching down to be on his level. Bucky patiently waits for it to pass before handing his friend the little piece of cloth.

“Thanks Buck…” Steve said almost like he was embarrassed. Bucky instinctively squeezes Steve’s knee reassuringly, before smiling softly and getting back up. He walks back to the pot on the stove. Okay, he thinks to himself. I may be a little too doting. What Bucky did not see when he turned around was Steve smiling at him.

The rest of dinner is uneventful, give or take a few coughs and shivers. When they finished eating, Bucky has to turn off the oven He doesn’t want to leave it on all night, doesn’t want to risk a fire. It is still pretty early in the evening, only about 7:30 but he can see Steve is exhausted.

Steve stands up, but momentarily loses his balance. Bucky, overreacting, stands up and catches Steve before the smaller man can even try to catch himself. They find themselves in a precarious situation. Steve is leaning is weight against Bucky’s chest, as Bucky’s arm is wrapped around the skinnier man’s waist. Bucky’s cheeks turn red as Steve stares curiously at him.

After what felt like years of silence, Bucky lets go of Steve, realizing his friend must be confused. “Uh sorry, thought you were going to fall.” Bucky nervously rubs the back of his neck.

Steve yawns and says “Thanks, I almost did.” He actually flashes bucky a warm smile that honest to god gave the brunette butterflies. Get it together, Barnes. He thinks to hisself, as he watches Steve walk away to their room. He follows noting the apartment temperature going down again.

When Bucky gets to the room, he finds that Steve has set his blanket on his bed. “I told you Stevie, you need this more than me.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Steve says between shivers under his own blanket. “Can’t have you getting sick too. And you are being weird.”

“What do you mean by weird?” Bucky cocks his head to the side.

“Well, it would make more sense to share a bed, two blankets and two bodies would be warmer, and we have done it a thousand times. But ever since you got home from work, you seem off. So take your blanket, punk.” Steve stares at his bewildered friend.

Bucky hates that Steve is so observant. He hadn’t meant to be weird. But now his stubborn friend was going to freeze tonight because he refused to not let Bucky have a blanket. He lets out an exasperated sigh, plays up the drama of course. “Fine. You win. Sharing a bed it is.”

Steve beams at him. Bucky should of know Steve would win this out. With Bucky, Steve could have anything he wanted. He had to face it, he was wrapped around the younger man’s finger.

Bucky makes his way to a pile of books on the ground, grabbing his copy of The Hobbit, before stepping out of his pants, leaving him in a shirt and briefs. He takes the book and his blanket over to Steve’s bed. He scoots into bed with Steve, both men adjusting so that the blankets now cover of them, their bodies inevitably touching on the small, twin size bed. Bucky sets his book on the nightstand, knowing Steve will fall asleep first and he’ll probably do some reading.

Bucky suddenly freezes when he feels Steve lie his head on Bucky’s chest, his arm thrown over the other man’s abdomen. Bucky’s arms are currently under his own head. This is new. Usually, they only got in this position through accidental readjusting while they are sleeping. Stuff that Bucky could just brush off. But now an awake Steve Roger’s is cuddling with an awake Bucky Barnes. He hopes that Steve cannot feel his heart racing in his chest. He continues to look up at the ceiling, hoping to nullify the blush creeping up his face.

Steve doesn’t seem to notice the other man’s reaction, or if he does, he hides it well. He whispers “Is this okay? I’m really cold and I guess I am trying to steal your body heat.” Steve’s voice sounds shy, almost embarrassed.

Of course, when Steve puts it like that, how can Bucky say no? He internally scolds himself for reading more into it. He tries to let out a casual laugh, though it sounded way more choked then intended. He lamely jokes. “That’s why you were trying to get me into bed. To use me?” He finally looks down at his chest, trying to see if his friend laughs. Instead, he is met with questioning blue eyes, genuinely concerned if this was alright. Even with only the dim light of a small bedside lamp, he can’t help but notice how those eyes sparkle. Bucky lets out a small, controlled, sigh and quietly whispers, “Steal away, buddy.”

“Buck?” Steve’s voice sounding even smaller this time. Bucky can’t remember Steve sounding so nervous about anything. He begins to panic internally even as he tries to stay cool externally.

“Yea Stevie?”

“You can say no, okay?” Steve whispers nervously.

“Steve what is it?” His voice more audibly concerned this time.

“Will put your arms around me? I feel like I just can’t get warm.” The way Steve asks is heartbreaking to Bucky, like he was worried Bucky would be upset.

For the first time, Bucky notices that Steve is still shivering. He had been so wrapped up by the way he felt having the smaller man so physically intimate with him, that he didn’t realize that the cold really was getting to Steve. He can tell by the way Steve was acting, he was embarrassed to make these requests. He knows Steve could be a proud man and to be in the position where he had to be so vulnerable was probably hard for him. So Bucky didn’t want to make it a thing, where Steve would feel obligated to have to say more. This was obviously tough enough. So without a word, he wrapped one arm around Steve, as the other fell over his own chest so that he cook connected his hands, locking Steve in, and trying to pull him as close as possible, trying his hardest to warm his sick friend.

Steve didn’t say a word, just flashed a tiny appreciative smile. They laid there in silence for a while before he finally heard Steve’s breath steady in a way that indicated that sleep finally overtook him. Bucky frowned because even in his sleep, the other man’s breaths seemed labored and congested. He hated that this was Steve’s life, that he couldn’t fix this for him. But at least he could help him for tonight. Bucky would be content spending the rest of his life as Steve’s best friend, even if it broke his heart know he could never be with Steve the way he wanted to be. This could be enough.

~~~~

A few hours pass by. Bucky had fallen asleep a little bit ago, still with his arms wrapped around the blonde. It is around 1 am when Bucky is disturbed from his sleep. He had become alarmed when he realized that Steve was no longer beside him. He sits up and desperately looks around the dark room, unsuccessfully scanning for his friend. That’s when he spots the soft glow of candlelight through the doorway coming from the front room. He notices both blankets are still in bed with him, so he worries about the offending temperature in the other room where Steve must be.

He makes his way out of bed, wrapping one of the blankets over his shoulders, and walks to the front room. Luckily, he found when he got in there, that Steve had turned one the oven filling the tiny front room with warmth. He spotted Steve sitting on their tiny old couch, kind of staring off. Bucky clears his throat, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice, still lost in his thoughts.

So, Bucky steps a little closer, stopping when he is a few feet away from his friend. A candle sits on the little crate they use as side table, the dim light barely illuminating his friend’s face. “Hey, bud. Couldn’t sleep?” Bucky says softly.

Steve doesn’t bother looking up, just keeps staring a head. He mumbles. “Was woken…up by something. You can go back to bed.” Steve looks visibly shaken and Bucky was absolutely not going to be able to just go back to bed.

Bucky instead takes a seat next to his rigid friend. Something was definitely not right. The way that Steve was sitting so stiffly, his face was distorted into a broken frown. At this level, Bucky can also tell his friend had been crying, blood shot eyes lit a glow from the candle. “Steve…buddy what’s wrong?” Bucky instinctively goes to rest his hand on the other man’s boney knees. To his surprise, Steve pulls his knee away, repulsed, still not looking at him.

Fear flashed through Bucky’s head. Had he done something? Had something happened while they were sleeping. Had Steve realized the way Bucky looked at him was wrong. He was trying to panic but that seemed fruitless. “Stevie…did I do something wrong?” Bucky didn’t recognize the voice that came out of his mouth. It seemed so broken and pathetic.

Steve let out a pained sigh, before momentarily pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes, like he was forcing back tears. Finally, he turned and looked at Bucky. He sounded frail; his voice laced with sadness. “No Buck…never. You could never do anything wrong. Its me…I am the something wrong here.”

Bucky immediately got defensive, worry coating his words. “What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything wrong? Please tell me why you would say something like that?” He may have been a little louder than he intended, as he felt terrible as he watched Steve recoil at his tone. He lowers his voice before softly placing his hand back on Steve’s knee, this time the younger man letting it rest there. “I’m…I’m sorry for yelling, Stevie. Can you please just tell me what happened. I am sure you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He watches as a tear starts to well up in Steve’s eye again, as he obviously tries to will it to stop before it falls defiantly down his cheek. The dam is broken and Bucky watches helplessly as his best friend falls apart in front of him. Without thinking, he throws his arms around Steve pulls him into a hug. Steve buries his head in Bucky’s shoulder, repeatedly whispering “I’m sorry.” Bucky quietly shushes him, while running his hand over the back of Steve’s neck, trying to sooth his friend.

After what seemed like an eternity, Steve pulls away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Bucky’s eyes are still riddled with worry, his eyebrows scrunched together trying to figure out what could be wrong. Steve whispers “I might as well show you; you will see eventually anyways.”

Bucky feels his chest tighten. What could be so bad that Steve would be this freaked out. He tentatively nods his head, preparing for whatever it could be.

“Buck?” Steve questions.

“Yea, buddy?” He replies automatically.

“Thank you for being my friend and …” There was a sad hesitation in his voice before he continues. “And I get it if you don’t want to be my friend anymore after tonight.”

That thought breaks Bucky’s heart in two. A choked breath escapes him. “Trust me…that’s not going to happen. “

Steve can only give a disbelieving, sad smile in reply. Bucky is now terrified at what could have caused this all.

Without saying a word, Steve picks up the candle and walks to the door that leads outside of their tenement. Bucky gets the idea that he should be following him. When Bucky catches up with him, he notices Steve’s hand shaking as he reaches for the doorknob. Bucky does not rush him, knowing that whatever this was, it was hard. Before long though, Steve opens the door and steps outside. Bucky follows close behind. For as cold as it was inside, the outside was colder. Steve didn’t even seem bothered though, too consumed with grief about something to care.

Steve stopped a few feet away from their door and turned back around to face it. For a moment, he thought he was turned around to face Bucky. Bucky starts “Why…why are we out here, Stevie? It is freezing.” Bucky still only in a shirt, underwear and a blanket. Steve had been a little better dress but not sufficiently enough. The only thing that left Steve’s mouth was. , “Look.” As he pointed behind Bucky at their door.

Bucky turned around and he felt like he got punched in the stomach. On the ground around him were a few broken glass bottles, but that wasn’t the issue. The pale light from the candle illuminated 7 angry red letters, painted sloppily in red on their door. Bucky reads the word out loud, simultaneously deflating with each syllable. “FAGGOTS.” He feels like his world is spinning. Did someone know…about him? Was this the guys at his job? Had to be, after the way they looked at him earlier, knowing he was lying. Worse yet, they are throwing Steve into this. Steve didn’t deserve to be taken down with him.

He was broken out of his thought by the weak voice coming from the man slightly behind him. “I…I was woken up by the sound of these guys laughing outside. They sounded drunk…and you know how much of a light sleeper I am. I thought they were going away but then it sounded like they were at the front door. They were still laughing and I heard glass breaking. You were out.” Bucky silently curses that he was such a heavy sleeper as he continues listening, eyes still fixed on the door. “So, I got out of bed to see what was going on. By the time I get to the door, they are running off, and one called me…this before disappearing down the steps. I tried to go after them.”

“Of course, you did…” Bucky replies, not processing it all.

“Yea, well it was too icy and I am too sick, so I couldn’t catch up to them. When I turned to go back inside, I seen this. And…and I am so sorry Buck.” Steve’s voice crumbles, sounding pathetic and sad, and full of hurt.

That’s when Bucky finally turns to face Steve. “Sorry? Sorry for what? None of this is your fault.” His voice is soft, only focusing on his hurting friend, ignoring his own hurt and panic.

Steve lets out a sniffle, Bucky unsure if from the cold or from fresh tears. “That’s where you are wrong. They did this because of me…”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky stares in confusion.

“These guys…they must have found out…found out that I …I am one.” Steve looks to the ground, terrified of Bucky’s reaction. Tears falling to the frozen ground, his skinny body shaking.

Bucky is overwhelmed with emotions. The most prominent of these emotions though was sadness for his hurting friend. Understanding the irony, he was still heartbroken that Steve thought he had to keep this his dirty little secret. This is why Steve thought they wouldn’t be friend anymore. He was lost for words but needed Steve to know that He was there for the long haul and this wasn’t going to change anything. For the second time this evening, he found himself pulling the younger man into a hug, the candle dropping, putting itself out. “s’okay Stevie…it’s okay. I promise…” He keeps repeating as his arms threaten to never let go of Steve again.

After a few moments though, he noticed the blonde shivering. It was still the middle of winter after all. Without saying another word, Bucky pulled away from the hug(reluctantly) before grabbing his hand and dragging him inside. He drags him to the bedroom where the warm bed wait, Steve not putting up much of a fight. When they get to the room though, Steve pulls his hand away and quickly makes his way to his bed. When Bucky makes his way to Steve’s bed, Steve puts up his hands to make the other man stop in his tracks.

“Buck, thank you for not kicking my ass.” Bucky puts on a hurt look, not believing that Steve actually thought he would. Steve explains himself. “Most guys would have knocked someone out if they found out their best friend was a fairy. So, um, thank you for not doing that.” Steve nervously puts his hand on the back of his neck before continuing. “But you don’t have to lay with me anymore. I get that can be weird now knowing…” Steve still refuses to meet his eyes.

Bucky lets out a huff. He can’t let Steve sit here and feel like he is alone. After what Steve confessed, he thought it was only fair. Ignoring, Steve’s protests, Bucky walks to the bed and sits on the edge, facing Steve. The streetlight out the window dully lighting their faces. He rests his hands on his own thighs, suddenly clammy despite the freezing temperatures. He says “I know…” He stutters “I know… who did this.”

“Who?” Steve sounds surprised despite himself.

“Some guys from the job.” Bucky says sadly.

“Why would they do that?” The smaller man responded, confused.

“Today…they asked me if I was that way you know? They thought that I treated you differently then how a guy should treat his friend.”

“Oh…” is all that escapes Steve’s mouth, Bucky watching an “O” form on the other’s lips.

“I…um of course…told them they were wrong but I guess they didn’t believe me. I’m sorry Steve. I guess…um…” Bucky stops, unsure if he wanted to finish.

“You guess what?” Steve asks, curiosity getting the best of him as he finally locks eyes with Bucky.

“I guess I was too obvious, Stevie. Look, I…I don’t know if I am that way. All I know is that I only got eyes for one person and that person is a fella.” Bucky’s face turning pink with the admission.

Steve stares, visibly confused, unsure exactly what Bucky is getting at. He dumbly asks “Who?”

Bucky gives an uncomfortable laugh, obviously apprehensive. “Are you that oblivious, pal? You…Stevie.” As the other man’s name slips from his mouth, he finds himself trying to look anywhere to avoid the gaze of the blue eyes staring into him.

All Steve manages to choke out is “Really?” His voice sound apprehensive and shy But to Bucky’s surprise, it also sounded hopeful. Yea, he already knew Steve was queer but that did not mean that he automatically like Bucky back. But maybe…he did?

It was this hopefulness that gave Bucky the courage to look back at Steve, his own light eyes staring into Steve’s. He can tell his friend was blushing hard, It was adorable, and pretty impressive for someone who was so pale moments ago. Without thinking about it, Bucky reaches his hand across the bed, and rests it on Steve’s shoulder, still safe in the platonic zone if they wanted to turn back. He whispers almost too quietly for Steve to hear. “Yea…really. You know how much I love you, Stevie, Always have. And for a long time, I thought that love was just because you were my best friend, you know? But overtime, I came to accept that the love I felt for you went way beyond that of a friend, even a close friend.” He looks down before looking back up, sporting a small mischievous grin. “Plus, I think you are really fucking hot.”

Steve somehow manages to blush eve harder, Though he was blushing, Steve was never one to back down from something he wanted. With the knowledge that his best friend was just as into him as he is to him, He scoops forward down the bed, so he very close to Bucky. Bucky’s hand had made its way off Steve’s shoulder, to now gently rest on his hip. He moves his head close to Bucky’s. The older man could feel Steve’s breathe on his face as he replies with a nervous smile “Good, because I’ve had eyes for you since were teenagers. I always got jealous when I seen you with a random skirt instead of me.”

Now Bucky was turning as pink as Steve, red hues covering his face and ears. He made Steve jealous?! He couldn’t believe it. Steve really wanted him. He takes his free hand and moves it to the back of Steve’s neck, wanting so bad to kiss him. He whispers “Can I kiss you?” It sounds so silly coming out of his mouth but he doesn’t want to push Steve.

Unfortunately, to his dismay, Steve says “No, Buck…”

Bucky looks down, suddenly feeling defeated. Had he read the signs wrong. Was Steve admitting he loved him too but did not want to pursue such a risky relationship. His head began to spin as he pulled away. “Oh, I/m sorry.”

Steve lets out a little laugh, grabbing his hand as he went to pull away. “I said no because I am still sick, jerk. Trust me I want to kiss you.” Bucky can’t help but laugh at himself too. Steve continues, “But I would like you to stay in bed with me tonight, if that is still okay."

“Of course, it is...anything for you.” He beams.

A few minutes later, they were laying down, Steve’s head on Bucky’s chest like earlier. Except it wasn’t just like earlier. The action was the same but the feelings were different. Earlier, there was tense atmosphere of secrets they were both hiding. But now it felt like it should have always been like this. Like they were complete more complete. Something that had always been there could thrive. Bucky lazily runs his fingers through Steve’s hair as they begin to drift back to sleep. “Buck?” Steve sleepily asks.

“Yea?”

“So you are my best fella now, right?”

Bucky chuckles to himself that Steve would even worry enough to ask. “Right, Stevie.” only getting a soft okay in response. Bucky lays there, waiting for Steve to fall asleep first. Thoughts run through his head, uncertainties about what to do tomorrow about those asshole, and how this is all going to work. But the one thing he doesn’t worry about is the fact that Steve is his and he is Steve’s

Other two chapters, poorly written smut in the second half of chapter 3.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30749381/chapters/75892694#workskin

[dlwritings]

Little Fall of Rain | Peter Parker

masterlist found here

pairing - Peter x reader word count - 2,828 warnings - ANGST ANGST ANGST A/N - I watched Les Mis yesterday and got way deep in my feels and decided to write this

summary - You love Peter so much, and when he falls for your best friend, you have a hard time handling it. Who knew so much could go wrong so fast?

“(Y/N)! Wait up!”

You closed your locker and looked down the hall to see Peter running over to you. You smiled as he accidentally bumped into someone, paused to help them pick up their things, and continued his jog in your direction. “Hey,” you said with a chuckle. “What’s up?”

“You’re pretty close to MJ, right?” he asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Yeah? I guess.”

“Do you know if she’s seeing anyone?” he asked. Your heart dropped a bit, but you maintained your poker face.

“I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”

“Has she ever-” He hesitated. “Well, we’ve been talking a little more lately, and I, I kind of have a crush on her?” The tips of his ears turned pink, but despite the embarrassment, he kept talking. “I just can’t tell if she feels the same way about me.” He looked at you expectantly, but you just stared at him blankly. “Could you maybe ask her? Not obviously,” he quickly added. “Just, see if you can casually drop it into a conversation.”

“Seriously?” you said.

“I’d owe you big time,” he said. “Please, (Y/N)?”

You hated his fucking puppy dog eyes.

“Fine,” you said, giving him a tight smile. “Sure.”

“Ah, you’re the best!” he said, giving you a tight, eager hug. You relished in the feeling of his arms around you for a second before he let go and gave you a bright smile.

You and Peter had been good friends for a long time. Since elementary school. You developed a crush on him around middle school, and now you were seniors in high school, and the feelings were just as strong as ever.

And now he liked MJ? Your other best friend? And you were just supposed to accept that? You certainly couldn’t tell him how you felt, and you couldn’t just lash out at him or ignore his wishes. It wouldn’t be a big deal. MJ definitely didn’t like Peter, so once you let him down easy, you could be his shoulder to cry on.

“Peter likes me?” MJ asked, her face lighting up when you told her.

Okay, so maybe you had some things wrong.

“Yeah,” you said. “I know, it’s weird, right? I’ll just tell him you don’t-”

“No, no!” MJ said quickly. “No, I do. Like him, I mean. I like him. I have for a while. I just had no idea he felt the same! He’s so shy and awkward, you know?”

“Well, I mean, you’re a little awkward too,” you mumbled.

“Maybe that’s why our relationship would work,” she joked. You gave a half-hearted laugh, which MJ didn’t notice. “Will you talk to him for me?” she asked. You held back a sigh and just raised your eyebrows.

“And say what?” you asked.

“Just, I don’t know,” she said, suddenly a little bashful. “Tell him I like him. Maybe he’ll ask me out if he hears from you that I like him too.”

You groaned dramatically, knowing MJ wouldn’t think anything of it. “Fine.”

“Yes, you’re the best!” she said.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “I know.”

High school relationships rarely lasted. Sure, maybe Peter and MJ would go on one date, but it wouldn’t go anywhere. All you’d have to do in the end would be provide them both with shoulders to cry on.

“She doesn’t feel the same way. Sorry Pete.”

The lie rolled off your tongue, and there was no way you could take it back. Peter’s shoulders dropped, and you swallowed back the guilt creeping up your throat.

“Oh,” he said. “I guess that’s fine. Thanks for doing that for me.” The two of you were standing at your lockers, waiting for the bell to ring. “I think I’m, uh-” He hesitated as the bell chimed through the speakers. “I’m gonna head home. I’ve had a headache all day.”

“But you still have sixth and seventh pe-”

“I’ll see you later, okay?” he said. You nodded and watched him walk through the front doors of the school, skipping class like it didn’t matter at all. And that was so not like Peter Parker. Okay, so maybe you had broken his heart a little bit, but he’d heal.

After school that day, you headed home to the Barton’s house. You were an Avenger, and Clint was the one who had discovered you. He saw you kicking some mugger’s ass in an alley, and at first, you just appeared like a tough teenager. Then, you bolted from the scene in a blur of speed, and a wave of emotion hit him as he was reminded of Pietro. Instantly, he knew you were a hero worth pursuing. When he found out you were a homeless teenager, he wouldn’t have it. He brought you into his home when you were 14, and now three years later, you basically were a member of the family.

“I’m home,” you called when you opened the front door. You found Clint and Laura in the kitchen, and the kids were all sitting at the kitchen table eating their after-school snacks.

“Hi!” Nate called. You smiled and waved at him, then approached all three of them to give them high fives in greetings.

You fished through the cupboards for a mug to make something to drink, mumbling an, “Excuse me,” to Clint who was standing in front of the cupboard.

“You okay?” Laura asked, chuckling slightly. You sighed and leaned up against the kitchen counter.

“I think I did something stupid,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.

“You think?” Clint teased. You rolled your eyes. “Whoa,” he said, a slight frown growing on his face. “I didn’t even get a playful smile. This is serious.”

“Ugh,” you whined. “Can I have some tea?”

Laura laughed. “Of course. You two go in the living room and chat. I’ll bring you your drink when it’s ready.”

You thanked her and walked through the house to plop on the couch. When the kids were finished in the kitchen, they headed to their rooms to work on homework, so you and the two adults were alone.

“You know Peter,” you said. 

“Parker?” Clint clarified. You nodded.

“You’ve got a crush on him, right?” Laura asked, handing you your tea.

“Laura,” you whined.

Clint laughed. “You think we didn’t notice?”

“Ugh!” you said for the second time since you arrived at their house.

You spilled everything. You told them about how Peter liked MJ and MJ liked Peter but you convinced him she didn’t just because you were jealous and desperately in love with your best friend. “I don’t know what to do,” you said, hyper-aware of the fact that you were holding back tears. You felt pathetic. “I know I messed up, but if I lose him to MJ, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Clint sighed. “You should’ve just told him how you felt, (Y/N).”

“What would that’ve done except humiliate me?” you asked.

“Why do you say that?” Laura asked.

“Because he doesn’t like me back,” you said. “And this isn’t one of those cliche stories where he actually does. Peter very clearly likes MJ, so what would telling him how I feel do except break my own heart and make things awkward between us?”

“At least he wouldn’t have made you play match-maker between him and MJ,” Clint said. Laura nodded in agreement.

“Well what do I do now?” you asked. Clint and Laura shared a look that you couldn’t decipher.

“You know you have to tell him the truth,” Laura said. “If you really care for him like you say you do, you should tell him how MJ really feels.”

“You owe him that much,” Clint added.

“Ugh,” you groaned again. “I hate when you guys are right.”

“Then why do you talk to us about this kind of stuff?” he teased. “Because we’re always right.”

“You know, one of these days I’m just going to ask you to lie.”

Clint laughed and gave you a quick side hug. “It’s movie night,” he said. “You wanna pick?”

“Come on,” you scoffed. “Do you even have to ask?”

That weekend, chaos ensued. Not in terms of your high school drama, but in the greater scheme of things. You know, like end-of-the-world chaos. Hydra had been working to program a new army of killer-super-soldiers, each designed to kill anyone they saw as a threat: government officials, millionaires and billionaires, CEOs of major companies, and, of course, the Avengers.

So there you were, suiting up at the compound on a cloudy Saturday afternoon. When you were ready, you joined the others in the boardroom. You sat beside Peter who gave you a small smile. Things between the two of you had been weird since you told him about MJ on Tuesday. Your routines didn’t change. You still ate lunch together, waited for each other by your lockers in the morning, and worked together on chemistry homework, but the vibes were different. You really had upset him by lying about MJ, and everyday you felt more and more guilty about it. “You okay?” you asked him, keeping your voice soft. His smile was just as small as it had been when you first sat down.

“Always,” he said.

“Okay,” Tony said, clapping his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “The soldiers’ programming is a lot like Bucky’s. So there’s no way to reason. Unless you can condense Shuri’s work into a millisecond action, these people are lost causes. All we can do is shoot first and capture them if we can.”

“The primary goal is to save the citizens,” Steve added. “Wanda and Clint are on evacuation. Nat and Bruce are working with local officers. We found Whitehall and Bakshi’s command center, so Bucky and I are going to head there and take them down. The rest of you are on the ground in the battle. Save as many civilians as you can, and watch each other’s backs.” You all nodded and chorused back various agreements, then stood up to head to your stations. As you and Peter started to leave the compound, you stopped him.

“What’s up?” Peter asked. “We gotta go.”

“You’re acting weird,” you said. “And it’s bumming me out. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“We don’t have time for this,” he said. “Mr. Rogers said-”

“I don’t care what he said,” you huffed. “You’re my best friend, and I don’t like seeing you this way.”

He sighed. “I just can’t stop thinking about MJ. I really thought she liked me, (Y/N).” You licked your lips and let a puff of air out of your nose.

Sure, maybe you needed to tell him you lied, but now was not the time to do so.

“I know,” you said. “I’m sorry, Pete. Try not to let it get to you. At least not right now. After the battle, I’ll sit with you and eat ice cream while we watch a cheesy rom com.” This managed to make Peter laugh a little, so you gave him a side hug and made your way out of the compound.

The fight was crazy. Not only were there super soldiers on your ass, you were crazy outnumbered by members of Hydra. “How are we looking on the battlefield?” Steve asked through the coms.

“Sexy, but not like we’re trying too hard,” Shuri said.

“Like sure, we’re trying,” Peter added.

“But it’s almost effortless,” you finished.

“I hate you guys,” Sam said.

“Can anyone answer me seriously?” Steve asked.

“Did we get a specific count on how many soldiers there are?” Strange asked. “Because we seem to kill one and it’s like two more take their place.”

“Yeah, well, that’s kind of their thing,” Bucky said.

You were getting frustrated. This shouldn’t have been a difficult mission. Hell, you defeated Thanos! Maybe you were all a little off your game at this point, worn out from the big universe-saving event. Now, simple Hydra agents were kicking your ass. Shouldn’t Steve and Bucky have gotten to Whitehall and Bakshi by now?

You took a deep breath and wiped some sweat from your forehead as you got rid of all the agents around you. When you glanced in Peter’s direction, you saw he was struggling. He was fighting off one of the super soldiers, and while Peter was strong and had his Iron Spidey suit, the soldier had serum running through his veins. It was a pretty equal fight. And Peter was so busy with that soldier that he didn’t notice the Hydra agent approaching him from behind. Your eyes grew wide, and you called Peter’s name. He either didn’t hear you or was too busy to turn. So, you mustered up your super speed, rushed behind him, and took the bullet meant for him in your stomach.

Peter heard the shot ring out and felt your body slump against him. He turned and yanked the gun out of the agent’s hands with his web and shot a taser web at his heart. Tony approached to help with the super soldier, so Peter collapsed to your side. “(Y/N),” he said.

He felt like everything fell silent. He didn’t know what was happening. All he saw was your limp body and the blood gushing through your shirt. You put your hand on the wound and winced, then felt a drop of rain hit your nose. Just like that, it started to pour, making the blood soak into your suit faster. You could just make out the rest of the team speaking in the coms.

“We got Whitehall and Bakshi,” Steve said. “How’s it-”

“(Y/N)’s down!” Peter cried. “We, I don’t know, shit!”

“What happened?” Clint asked.

“Gunshot,” he said. “In, in the stomach. It’s-” He cut himself off with a shaky breath.

“All super soldiers are down,” Thor said. “We’re all coming to you now.”

Peter held you in his arms and pushed some hair from your face. “What were you thinking?” he whispered. Before you could say anything, a rumble of thunder sounded and he added, “We gotta get you out of this rain.”

“Pete,” you laughed breathlessly, “a little fall of rain isn’t going to hurt me now, and you know it.”

“Don't talk like that,” he said, his voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay.” You felt blood drip out of your mouth, and Peter wiped it away.

“MJ likes you,” you said.

“What?” Peter asked, keeping his hand on your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I lied to you. MJ really likes you. I just didn’t want to tell you.” He opened his mouth like he was about to ask why, but he figured it out just as fast.

“(Y/N),” he whispered. “We can get you help. Just-”

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “Nothing hurts, and-” You paused and smiled weakly. “You’re here, and that’s all I need. Just don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” he whispered, pushing some more hair away from your face. Tears mixed with the rain hitting his face, and his body was shaking now. “If I could make all of this go away just by reminding you how much I love you, I would.”

“Just hold me,” you said. “It’s okay.”

The others were starting to walk over to the pair of you, but Peter didn’t move from your side. He rocked you softly in his arms. “I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep,” he whispered. “Don’t worry.” You were quiet for a moment, and he feared he already lost you. Then, you spoke again, so softly it was barely audible.

“Peter?” you asked.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Will you do something for me?” you said.

“Anything.”

You swallowed thickly and let your eyes flutter closed. “Kiss me when I’m gone,” you whispered. “I’ll feel it.”

“(Y/N)-”

“You know what, Peter Parker?” you said, cutting him off. You forced your eyes open and gave him one last smile. “I think I’ve always been in love with you.”

Peter could see the life leave your eyes. Still, he sniffed and pressed his hand to your cheek. “(Y/N)?” he croaked out. “Please. Please, wake up.”

“Pete,” Tony said, resting his hand on the kid’s shoulder.

“No,” he cried. “No. She’s okay. She has to be okay.”

Peter looked at the man behind him, then over his shoulder at all the others watching. They all looked devastated. Clint was standing with his back to the scene, his shoulders visibly shaking. Nat stood beside him and rubbed his back. Peter blinked back some more tears and looked back down at you. He closed your eyes with the pads of his fingers and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” he whispered.

Peter never loved you the way you loved him, but there was still love there. Now, holding your limp body in his arms, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever love again.

----- ----- ----- -----

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[justauthoring]

At First... [Xavier Plympton]

Request: prompt #10 with either Xavier or Michael pls I just wanna see my boys be protective

Prompt: #10 “Don’t touch her!”

Pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

Word Count: 1,844

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Normally, Xavier’s aerobics class was your favourite part of the day.

It was a place where you could hang with your friends, get a little exercise in and most importantly; forget about the world for a little while. And, you’d never complain about getting to see Xavier in those shorts of his, from behind him, and then every once in a while catch his gaze through the mirror, the both of you sweaty, hot and smirking in your galore.

Yeah, you definitely loved getting your Jazzercise on.

At least, you did, before the quote-on-quote new kid strolled into class one day. At first, you hadn’t really thought of it. People came and went, and the only ones who ever really stuck where you and your friends. Most of the time, you barely even talked to anyone outside of your bubble. You’d exchanged a pleasant greeting to the boy, learned his name was Justin  and then went on with the rest of the class.

He managed to catch you just as you were leaving. Normally, Xavier would’ve been with you and the two of you would stop off for lunch or dinner, depending when the class ended, and then Xavier would drive you home (and he’d spend the night sometimes, and other times, he’d go home). But that night, Xavier had insisted on staying behind to work on a new routine and you were too tired to really argue with him and try to convince him to come home. 

So, it was just you in the parking lot. Most had left given that you’d stayed behind a little longer then the rest, as you usually did.

You hadn’t really thought anything of it. You didn’t even think of it when it become apparently clear that the boy was flirting with you. You were, admittedly, flattered, but brushed off his compliment with clear disinterest, hoping Justin would understand your meaning. 

He didn’t.

But still, nothing overly concerning had happened. He’d waved goodbye shortly after, saying he’d see you at the next class and then ran along. Nothing ever really happened until a few weeks in.

You’d maybe, even sort of forgotten about him. Justin tended to linger in the back, hidden by the shadows, even while the class was in session. He never really approached you again like that first night and you never really noticed his lingering stare; something, you realized now, was naive bliss. You do know that Montana had mentioned in passion, a teasing way of saying “the new guy liked you!” and Xavier had gotten all grumpy but that was it.

There were no signs to follow. No signs that would’ve made you concerned. 

And then, by the fifth week, you’d found photos of yourself posted all over your locker door. Somewhere just of you laying in bed or on the couch watching tv, and some -- the more concerning ones -- were of you undressing, getting in the show. However, the most disturbing ones of all were of you and Xavier, naked, in bed, enjoying one another, with a big fat red ‘X’ marked over Xavier’s face.

You didn’t tell anyone. You don’t know why. You didn’t know it was him at the time, of course, but the logical thing would’ve been to call the police; or at least, tell Xavier. Maybe you were scared; of what? You didn’t know. And maybe you’d just wanted to pretend it had never happened and wanted to forget the entire thing, despite how scared and vulnerable it had made you feel.

You threw the photos out. New ones appeared the next day.

You started to feel a lingering stare on you in class. A harsh, intimidating stare on your body as you danced. But when you looked around, you didn’t catch anyone’s eye. It was as if you were imagining it.

You stopped showing up to classes shortly after that. It had started slow at first; coming late, missing a class or two, nothing too intense that you couldn’t just brush it off with a simple and poorly made excuse. But the photos wouldn’t stop and neither would the staring, so much so, that you became paranoid and so you just stopped coming all together.

Xavier, concerned, had come to visit you; wondering why.

You finally told him about the photos and he immediately offered to go to the police. Not so much offered as he did order, saying it was the best solution possible. You’d cried and pleaded with him not to, going on about how you didn’t want to upset whoever it was and didn’t want to waste anybodies time; you were positive it was just some silly prank or... or something. Xavier had relented and stayed by your side the entire night.

You woke up alone.

At first you’d been panicked, but Xavier called saying he was just going to pick up some breakfast. That had managed to ease your nerves enough that you could distract yourself with a book.

Until you heard a knock on your front door and upon opening it, found a photo of you in just your underwear plastered to the front of it.

Which led to you know, locked in your bedroom, pacing, trying to reach Xavier. He didn’t answer the first call, nor the second, but the third you managed to reach him.

“Y/N, i’m just on my--”

“He’s here!” You interrupt with a whispered shriek, biting your lip tightly, a hand pressed against your lips. “He’s here. There was... The-There was a photo of m-me on the fr-fr-front door and I--!”

“Y/N! Y/N! Listen to me, listen to me!” Xavier interrupts your rambling, his voice coming out static over the phone. “Who? The man whose been taking photos of you?”

A sudden thud echoes, causing you to jump. Crouch into your closet, you let out a soft whimper. “I think he’s inside...” You whisper, your eyes screwing shut for a moment as footsteps grow closer and closer.

“He’s what...-- I’m on my way, okay, Y/N? I’ll be there in ten minutes top, just stay on the ph--”

“He’s in the room with me,” you whisper, voice breathless, the haunting sound of your door screeching open causing your heart to accelerate. It felt like you could throw up, the fear coursing through your veins so intense it almost felt like you couldn’t breathe. It felt like your throat was closing in on itself and any second he’d find you and-- “He’s going to find me, Xavier. I’m...”

“I’m on my way. Just stay on the phone. Don’t make a sound. I promise, Y/N, I won’t--”

Whatever he’d been about to say is cut off sharply but your closet door suddenly being yanked open. Your eyes widen, flickering upwards and landing on Justin’s own as your heart sinks. Everything starts to click in that moment and a whimper leaves your limps as he smiles brightly down at you.

“Now, what’re you doing in the closet, Y/N?”

He reaches forward, you flinching by instinct, but he simply pulls the phone out of your grasp, Xavier’s voice echoing into the eerie silence until Justin simply hangs up. For a moment, all is still, you simply staring up at the boy, before a scream tears through your lips as he roughly grabs you by the wrist, yanking you up to your feet and out of the closet. He merely tosses you on your bed, you bouncing slightly in response as you scramble to get a good look at him and gauge his actions.

You try to crawl back as he advances on you, but he easily grabs a hold of your ankles, yanking you towards him.

Pinning your wrists above your head, Justin smirks down at you. “I tried to be nice and send you all those pretty little photos, Y/N,” you whimper as his hand trails across your cheek, brushing back hair, his fingertips cold and threateningly. “But you rejected all of them.” His hand stops around your throat, hand hovering. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“I... I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice shaky. 

He merely brushes your apology aside, hand lowering to the collar of your shirt. Xavier’s shirt. The only thing you’re wearing besides your underwear. Justin’s face twists as he assesses the piece of closing. “I was going to come last night,” he mumbles, “but that idiot came before I could.” He leans forward, inhaling sharply. “You even smell like him.”

His other hand leaves your wrists, moving to the hem of your shirt, his cold hands touching your stomach. Without hesitation, you shoot your leg up, nailing him right in the balls before delivering a sharp slap across his cheek. You quickly scramble off the bed, racing out of your room and down the hall. And you almost make it to the front door, so close actually, until a hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you back and causing you to lose your balance.

You would’ve fallen had Justin not slammed you up against the wall.

“I love you!” He bellows, voice screeching. “Why can’t you just understand that?”

“Get off of me!” You scream, voice piercing as you fight against his grip desperately. “Let go! Don’t touch me-- ahh!” A gasp leaves your lips at the hot pain that flickers across your cheek, head snapping to the right as Justin huffs heavily against you, chest pressed against your own.

His hand slams your pinned wrists against the wall, a cry leaving your lips in the response, as he simply slips his hand under your shirt, touching your bare stomach. You press against the wall, desperate the get away from his touch as he glares down at you.

“You’ll learn,” he mumbles darkly, “that we belong together.”

Your eyes flutter shut in discomfort, tears trailing down your cheeks as he trails upwards, your shirt following his hand and revealing you. However, before he can get any further, the front door slams open and you turn your head to find Xavier. He stops to a halt, panting, his eyes flickering across what’s before him before rage floods his gaze.

“Don’t touch her, you asshole!”

He rushes forward, delivering a nasty right hook before Justin can do anything. Justin falls back in response, a gasp leaving his lips as he loses his balance and smacks his head off the wall, knocking him out. Still pressed against the wall, you pant, chest heaving as you stare down at the pathetic excuse of a man.

There’s a pause before Xavier turns to you. “Y/N?”

Turning to him, breathless and teary-eyed, you let out a simple cry before falling into his arms. Xavier wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close against him as he runs a hand through your hair. “Shh, it’s okay, babe. I called the police, they’ll be here soon.” Pulling back, he cups both of your cheeks. “He’ll never hurt you again.”

Leaning into his touch, you sniffle, nodding at Xavier.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. So sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

-

Let me know what you thought?

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

two years too late, chapter n i n e

Carly sat on the sofa with wide eyes, the same one you had sex on only a few days before. Harry rounded the island, two cups of tea in hand that rattled against saucers beneath. Tiny white cups, blue details around the rim--you wondered where he got them.

“S’hot,” he said, setting them down carefully on a glass coffee table in front of you. Carly, with a smile on her face, looked down at the tea and then back up at him, “thanks.”

He offered a smile in her direction before heading back to the kitchen, fetching a third cup for himself. A record buzzed along through the speakers of a turntable in the corner of the room, when he came back to the couch and sat next to Carly, he cleared his throat. 

“Ask away,” he smiled, a look in his eyes conveyed more to you than it did to your coworker. 

“Yeah,” you reached for a notebook in your bag on the floor, you pulled a pen from your pocket and uncapped it. “Maybe we can start with how it feels to be solo--which, I know, the same boring question you get all the time, but--enlighten us.”

The heated air felt stiff as it blew from vents overhead, he seemed to relax into the couch once he took a sip of tea. Carly’s presence didn’t feel uncomfortable, but it made you realize that things with Harry still felt strange. 

You weren’t necessarily friends, not unless friends spend the night tangled beneath Egyptian cotton and their mornings sipping tea in oversized t-shirts. 

But you also couldn’t say you were more than that. There’d been no conversation, no label, no definition. Nothing lent itself to quelling the voice at night that seemed to echo in your mind. 

“S’not boring,” he laughed. “It’s uh--it’s good. Fun to branch out and try new things, took a while to get used to performing without them cause it’s so different. I’ll get more practice though, with this upcoming leg of the tour.” 

“Different how?”

“Just not as many people on stage to bounce off of, energy wise. There’s less to hide behind, y’know?”

“Hide?” Carly’s eyes seemed to narrow in on him, her curiosity getting the best of her as she cracked a smile. She’d promised to hang back, let you ask the questions and guide the conversation. While your biggest interview to date might not be your most professional, you wanted to be certain that Carly’s excitement wouldn’t make it the most pathetic.

He thought on it for a second, the cup of tea resting on his knee as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just me up there now--I get to be more myself. Not that I wasn’t in the band, by any means, but more opportunity to just be myself.”

A beat of silence passed when you scribbled on the paper in front of you: nail polish remover. You needed to pick some up on your way home. Instead of telling him that asking him questions about work felt weird, you diverted. 

“Is that scary ever?”

He shrugged, offering a smile. “Not scary--but intimidating at times. Off the record, for a second,” he laughed. “Just feels cool, y’know? I’m not worried about carrying a giant reputation around like I used to. I mean--I still have a reputation and an image and whatever,” another laugh when he looked over to Carly. “But now I’m just me. Not Harry Styles of One Direction.”

“Right,” you nodded, eyes scanning his face when he looked between the two of you. 

You wondered if you seemed too comfortable--if Carly would notice that you knew your way around his refrigerator or the fact that you settled easily into the couch. 

“How do you think you’ve changed since the band?”

You hadn’t noticed Harry was looking at you until he turned his head, Carly’s question processing as he took another sip of tea. He hummed for a second, a sigh escaping his lips before he shrugged again. “You mean from the band to now or from before the band to now?”

“Before the band,” Carly’s eyes fluttered over to you, a subtle nod at the relationship between the two of you that spanned over a decade. 

“I’d like to think I’m the same,” the corner of his mouth pulled up when he stole a sideways glance at you. He set the tea down in front of him, a clink against the coffee table, but then let out a hefty sigh. “Not possible, I guess. Might be a better question for Y/N.”

They both turned to you, you plucked a piece of lint off of your sock. A shrug of your shoulders, an eye roll when he winked at you. “You’re different in a lot of ways, and yet somehow exactly the same.”

“How does one manage that?” He pressed, a dimple appearing on his left cheek, afternoon light seemed to dance through the floor to ceiling windows. 

“I mean--” you looked around the room, taking in the art on the walls and the fact that his flat looked like it ate yours for breakfast. “Didn’t think the kid with plaid bedding would be living it up on Greenwich Street. But you still have bad taste in dessert and a knack for bothering me.”

“I see,” he said, another playful glance in your direction before Carly cleared her throat. 

“Mind if I use the restroom?” 

“Down the hall,” Harry threw a thumb over his shoulder, slurping loudly at the beverage in his hand.

She let her eyebrows shoot north, nodding her head towards the hallway you’d padded down barefoot numerous times. “Join?”

You looked back at Harry, his thumbs moved over the screen of his phone--likely reassuring someone on his team that everything was fine, despite the fact that they weren’t there. His publicist had been hesitant at first, an interview without a chaperone? He told you that he begged for them to hang back, insisting that this was likely going to be the best interview he ever did. Honest and authentic were the words you heard him use on the phone one night. You ignored the pressure that suddenly fell on your shoulders, hoping you’d do it justice.

“Be right back,” you said quietly, disappearing down the hallway behind your coworker. You looked over your shoulder to ensure privacy before whispering. 

“Why do you need me to pee with you?”

She pulled you into the bathroom, switched the lights on before smiling at you. “He’s so flirty with you!”

“What?” You said quickly, eyes squinted to adjust to the brightness that now reflected off of white marble. “No he’s not.”

“Y/N--yes he is. He’s so sweet to you and nice and I know he’s just nice in general but, like,” she raised her eyebrows suggestively, another smile when you rolled your eyes.

“No, Carly, that’s ridiculous.”

“Has there ever been anything between you guys?” Another wiggle of her eyebrows. 

“Between me and him?!” More heat rose to your cheeks, back against the door, another eye roll when she nodded. “No! No drunken teenage hook ups and no spin the bottle or whatever you’re imagining.”

“Well, maybe there could be,” she shrugged.

“Can I go now?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. 

You turned quickly, hand on the knob to escape back to the living room, your lies would give Harry a good laugh. 

“Oh, shit, look,” Carly spoke again, frozen in her tracks, her eyes on the blue deodorant on the counter that you’d picked up at Duane Reade a few nights earlier.

If you were going to be staying over some nights, you needed a few things here. Apparently you’d left the deodorant on the counter after using it, and neither Harry or you thought to put it in the master bath where you typically showered in the morning. 

“Looks like there’s someone else in the picture,” she pointed down at it. “Unless he uses Secret Shower Clean scent.”

You stifled a laugh, “wouldn’t shock me. He’s pretty feminine sometimes.”

“Oh shut up,” she rolled her eyes. “Let me pee in peace.”

“You made me come with you!” you defended, mouth open in shock from her demand. 

“Go utilize the alone time I’m giving you, please and thanks.” 

So you rolled your eyes for the hundredth time, making your way back to Harry in the living room. He pressed a kiss to your lips before Carly reemerged, sneaking around is fun, he decided. 

**

You’d spent years not knowing where he was. There were times when you probably went a good week or two without thinking about him at all. But now the dimmed screen of your phone meant he was probably out with other people, too busy to talk to you or say goodnight.

Work, he’d said. Mostly work and only a little bit of play. 

You eyes glossed over the headline, a trash mag online seemed to think otherwise. 

Harry Styles parties with new girlfriend in Los Angeles

Alyssa let out a groan when you dropped your phone back on the table, a spoon to her lips as she took another bite of the stew she’d made. “It’s not a big deal--he gets written about like that all the time. And besides, he said there was a dinner, right?”

“S’not the dinner,” you rolled your eyes, feeling more pathetic with each passing second. “S’the drinks and stumbling out of a fancy restaurant.”

“He took you to a fancy restaurant last week!” she nearly dropped her spoon, her eyebrows knitted together when you looked up from the bowl in front of you. Chunks of carrot danced in the broth, steam floated up towards the ceiling, half of a baguette laid on a plate between you both. 

Did you even have the right to be upset? Was it fair to assume he wasn’t seeing other people? A week had passed and there was even less conversation about it. You were spending more time at work dreaming up possibilities for the story, more time trying to extinguish whatever fire had sparked in Carly at the mere thought of there being something more between you and Harry.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Alyssa reassured. And maybe she was right, maybe the pounding heart when you zoomed in on photos was unnecessary. Maybe the sweat on your hairline from getting stuck in the thought of him kissing someone else was all a waste of time. 

Or maybe it wasn’t. 

A facetime call from Jessie the next morning over breakfast only left a bigger ball of anxiety in  your stomach. She squealed excitedly when you answered, it was hard to make out her words just from the pitch of her voice. She got into a PhD programme, a wide smile on her face when she told you she’d start over the summer. 

“How’s Harry?” She finally asked, pushing sunglasses over her eyes when she stepped out of the office building in which she worked. A lunchtime coffee was necessary for Jessie, she said she’d take you along. A coffee date separated by the Atlantic Ocean, she cooed. How romantic!

“He’s fine--haven’t talked to him in a while.”

Eighteen hours to be exact. You weren’t really counting, it was just that you kept opening the message thread between the two of you, a blatant reminder on your screen that his last text came through yesterday after lunch. Jessie didn’t need to know that your definition of a while had changed now that you were sleeping together. 

“Yeah? You looked pretty cozy in his house the last time we talked.”

Her words weren’t challenging, more observational. She made a face at someone on the street, you assumed someone had bumped into her and withheld an apology.

Despite the lack of charge behind her words, anger bubbled in your chest when she looked at you expectantly. “Why are you always asking about him, Jessie? I’ve told you a thousand times! He reached out, we hang out sometimes. S’really not a big deal.” You pressed a button on your keurig, watching as the steam stretched towards the sky when coffee appeared in your mug.

“Whoa, relax--just curious. You used to be the girl who wanted nothing to do with him and now suddenly you’re best friends again.”

You sprinkled sugar into the liquid. “Well people grow up, Jess--he was a dick back then but, I dunno, feels different now.”

“I just, I guess I never thought you’d get over him--and over it.”

“Speaking of,” you looked over to the phone, it was propped up against a box of pasta that Alyssa had left out on the counter. “Jake told me that you left us in the bathroom.”

She was inside somewhere now, likely a Starbucks down the street from her office. Her eyes settled back on you, she pulled a hat off her head, parted lips, no noise. 

“Kind of surprising to hear seeing as you knew how much I didn’t want to see him that night.”

Your heartbeat was in your ears, a whooshing that drowned out the voices of local news anchors that drifted in from the living room. Maybe Jessie meant no harm, but the look on her face told you she knew she’d caused it anyway. 

“I thought it was funny at first, I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“Clearly,” you moved the mug over towards the fridge in search of creamer. “Glad your joke was a good laugh for you.”

“Oh, Y/N, come on,” she whined, still frozen inside a coffee shop. She wasn’t in line, you could tell that she had enough privacy to be hashing it out with you. “It was years ago--things are better now. You and Harry are friends and all is back to normal.” Her voice was somewhat pleading, hoping you’d just drop it. 

“Jessie I don’t care if we’re friends now,” you said quickly, picking up the phone from its resting place. “I was heartbroken by two guys and you let me stay locked in a bathroom with one of them. That’s bloody mean!”

“I suck, okay? I’m a shit friend and I deserve to rot in hell but I would like for you to remember that Bryn also knew.”

“What?”

“What?”

“Bryn knew?”

“Did I say that?”

“Jessie!”

“What?!”

“She knew?!”

“Yes! I told her because I was drunk and she said it was mean but then when I told her it would force the two of you to just talk things through she also pretended to not know where you were when Jake and Adam asked.”

“You are both terrible people,” you shook your head, more pounding in your ears, more anger when you realized you couldn’t even call Harry to complain about it because he was busy and you didn’t want to bother him because you weren’t even his girlfriend. “I have to go.”

“Y/N, wait!” 

“I’ll talk to you later.”

Three beeps, the iPhone signal that you were now alone in your kitchen, nothing but a steaming cup of coffee to keep you company. 

**

Just like your mother had raised a woman of class, she also raised a woman who wasn’t too proud to admit that she was way too anxious. So on Monday afternoon when the Q train was taking far too long, you decided to give your mum a call. 

She’d long been talking you off the ledge when it came to boys or friends and everything in between, but when she answered and asked how you were, you realized it was probably best to keep some details to yourself while you filled her in. 

There’d been mention here and there throughout your life in regards to sexual activity, she begged you to buy condoms when you went off to Uni and she even asked after you met Charlie if you’d lost your virginity. 

There were boys between he and Harry, but only a few. You decided to keep the topic of sex off the table as you elbowed your way through commuters. Instead, you told her about his flat and the fact that you now had deodorant in a cabinet in the bathroom. You told her about the real date he took you on and the way he bantered back and forth with Alyssa like they were long lost siblings. 

She was excited for you, happy that whatever was going on between you looked less like the rubble of a ruined friendship and more like the foundation of something new. She’d always liked him--and something about the fact that his mum lived in the same town probably struck her as a good sign. 

Only one place to visit for Christmas! 

But you had to pump the brakes, the thought of spending holidays together felt so far off and unlikely that you changed the subject altogether. 

“I also, uh, I’m interviewing him for work.”

“You are? Does your boss know that you’re dating him?”

You ignored the lump in your throat--dating him didn’t feel like a good descriptor. Hooking up? That felt more appropriate. 

“No. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t even know that we’re friends. My coworker Carly does--but, she doesn’t know that we’ve, you know.”

“So you’ve slept with him?”

“Mum! No--I just,” a exasperated grunt escaped from your lips. 

“S’fine, honey, you don’t have to tell me. M’not trying to pry.”

“All I meant was that she knows we’re hanging out.”

“Hanging out,” she repeated your words, you could picture the smirk on her face. It was the same one Katie made when she’d confronted you about it back over Christmas. 

“Spending time together.”

“Sleeping at his sounds like more than just spending time together.”

Another sigh, a shift in your energy when the train pulled up. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up.”

She was quiet at that, too. You heard her take a breath before replying. “I know, sweetie.”

“He leaves for tour mid March. Story is due a month before.”

Fellow New Yorkers spilled out from between the train doors, shoving through the crowd to find their way up to street level. 

“You’ll have to figure things out before he leaves, then, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The train ride was quick, only a few stops until your feet hit the pavement of your block, four stoops until you’d climb up your own. You helped Alyssa make dinner, a recipe she’d found online for homemade pierogies--far too ambitious for a work night.  

But you laughed and drank wine and she danced around the kitchen when Harry’s song came on Spotify. 

Look at us now, she laughed. In December we went to see him at Spotify and now he frequents our living room. 

You pretended like it didn’t matter, like the dim screen of your phone didn’t sting like a papercut. 

But when your phone rang at 11pm and he asked if it was too late to talk, the words I miss you felt an awful lot like a bandaid. 

**

He sent Roger to pick you up from work three days later and told you to bring your overnight bag--you slid into the backseat after Carly left for the subway. A quick lie that you had a lot to finish up before leaving was all it took for her to wave goodbye and say she’d see you in the morning. 

You’d never been this nervous to see him. Not the first time you’d gotten tickets to see the band, six months between the last time you saw him and a hug backstage before meeting the others. Jessie had seemed to stake her claim on Liam, both Adam and Jake thought it was ridiculous that she wore a crop top to a concert in the middle of Manchester. 

But the stakes were higher now. You weren’t going back to Uni or texting him that his performance was great on an awards show. You were sleeping in his bed and you didn’t know what it meant. 

“I’d kiss you if I could,” he let an arm wrap around your waist as he pulled you close, another back room of a restaurant, this time it was Japanese and the host knew your name when you walked through the door. Vince, a man who seemed to only own black clothes, seemed to hover behind you as the host led you through tables, a quiet spot in the back, away from the crowds. 

Maybe he could sense your anxiety, maybe he could just feel that you were tense. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, cursing your expressive face and settling into the chair he’d pulled out. A glass of wine was already poured for you. 

“Smalls, you look upset.”

“Long day,” you lied, a long exhale when he searched your face again. 

“I was really busy,” he said it like he knew it wasn’t an excuse. 

“What do you mean?” you faked a head tilt, one that hopefully looked convincing and like you weren’t acutely aware of the fact that he’d only texted four times and called once in the five days he was gone. 

“I suck at communicating sometimes.”

“S’fine, Harry, m’not mad. We should talk about the interview, anyway. This is work, right?”

He licked at hip lips, his hands nervously twisting beneath the table. “I mean--I just wanted to see you. Have dinner. Catch up.”

“Well we have a story to write.”

“Y/N,” your name fell off of his lips like they were anchored to the earth beneath his feet. “You’re not my coworker. You’re not just a journalist.”

You let his words linger in the air between you, biting your tongue hard enough to draw blood. Then what am I to you?

“Okay,” you said the word because you didn’t know what else to say. Something told you that fighting with Harry in a Japanese restaurant on the Upper East Side wouldn’t look good in a tabloid, especially seeing as this was still being billed as a strictly professional relationship. 

So maybe that was where the anxiety was coming from. Whitney was pressing for more of a direction on the story, and no matter how much you knew about the boy with an ink-splattered chest, you didn’t know what to say about him. 

It was hard to write the story of a boy who knew you so well, one that had embarrassing memories of you and one whose life didn’t begin the second his face was broadcast on the telly. You weren’t sure how to tell that story: the one of drunken teenage nights and a shifting friendship that suddenly involved hiding from paparazzi and headlines. 

Privacy was a luxury, one you were now well aware of. One that haunted your thoughts when you were riding the lift up to his flat or rushing through Union Square at rush hour. 

Sharing your story of him would change the privacy you knew. It would strip every sense of it and ultimately add a new chapter that you weren’t too sure of. 

But how did you write a story that wasn’t the truth? One with questions about music and girlfriends and funny celebrity run ins? How did you bite your tongue as if you didn’t know his favorite breakfast cereal or the way he washed his hair in the shower?

Agreeing to the interview suddenly felt like you had to bury the part of you that saw him as more than a voice on the radio, muffle the sounds of pleasure that came from your lips when he kissed between your legs. 

He changed the topic quickly, a waiter took your order and did his best to act as if Harry wasn’t who he was. He told you about the meetings he’d had in LA, the friends he saw and the way the sea breeze blew. I didn’t miss the weather but I did miss you. 

“My birthday’s next week,” he eventually said, his knife slid along his plate before he took a bite. His tone was casual. 

“Yeah. Big plans, or?”

It felt like a silly question--of course he had big plans. Didn’t he have people to ensure that his plans were big and the events were thrilling? 

“Dinner, I guess, with some friends and some people in New York. D’ya want to come?”

“To dinner?”

“Yeah--Alyssa’s welcome too, if she’s around.”

You were quiet for a second, a sip of wine to avoid an answer. He raised his eyebrows after a second, another bite of food into his mouth as he waited. 

“I mean--don’t know if that’s a good idea, right?”

“Because of work?”

You nodded. Maybe you were taking it too far, maybe people wouldn’t care as much as you felt like they would. 

But Whitney. Maybe she’d be livid about your apparent lack of regard for the standards and ethics of the field--or maybe she’d be willing to overlook this one based on the extraordinary circumstances. 

It wasn’t every day that content producers at The Scoop had an in with one of the biggest celebrities, right? 

But even if Whitney did overlook that, there was now the issue that you’d lied. You’d had multiple chances, meetings, phone calls with her over your shoulder to a fake PR person of Harry’s--which was really just an automated voice from your pharmacy that you’d speak over. 

Yes, 2pm would be perfect--dial 1 to speak with the pharmacist--Great--dial two if you’d like--I look forward to sitting with him again. 

“What’s the plan with this, Smalls?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is when are you going to be okay with people knowing that you know me?”

You stared at the napkin on your lap, a spilled splotch of something on the corner almost looked like a rocketship. When you looked up at him, his eyes looked empty. 

“S’going to be hard to avoid right? I mean, the more we do this--” you motioned around the restaurant with a free hand as you picked up your wine. “The more people will put the puzzle pieces together. The internet is a dangerous thing.” 

“So maybe we should get out in front of it.”

“I just want to wait, okay? Wait until I can give Whitney the story and figure out a better way to tell her.”

“What about our friends?”

“What about them?” 

He rolled his eyes a little. “Why can’t they know that we’re--”

“Because Jessie will be obnoxious--more obnoxious than she usually is.”

He sighed. 

“She knew we were in the bathroom.”

“What do you mean?” Curiosity replaced impatience. 

“I guess she realized we were stuck in there and instead of letting us out she had a proper laugh with Bryn,” your chest deflated, less anger than the last time you thought about it. “She said she hoped we’d just talk things out.”

Harry let out small laugh, his eyes wandered the room as if he waited for a distraction. “Jake probably can’t keep his mouth shut.”

When you looked at him with confusion on your face, he continued. “Jake’s always known that I--y’know, liked you.”

“Always?” You narrowed your eyes at him, heat rising to your cheeks when you thought about what Jake had said at Christmas. It was stupid to think that Harry didn’t talk to the rest of your friends--especially Jake and Adam--the same way you did. And it was especially stupid to think that Jake and Jessie weren’t keeping each other completely in the loop. 

But if you were both disclosing the same secret of having feelings for the other, why didn���t someone take it upon themselves to remove the middle-man and force the two of you to talk?

You shrunk when it clicked. That’s what Jessie had done.

“Yeah, I mean,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t really tell him until, like, probably 2013.”

Another puzzle piece. “Which is when I’d met Charlie.”

“And when I decided to let you just--do you.”

“Do me?”

“S’not like we saw each other much and then I found out you had a boyfriend and--you know. I was busy.”

“Right. Busy.”

And then when you were finally able to talk through things and you both admitted that there had always been something between you, you decided to tell him to never talk to you again.

Harry nodded, a look on his face as if he’d wandered into unknown territory. More wine was poured by the same waiter who stared at Harry with excitement in his eyes. Once you were alone again, Harry stifled a smirk. 

“You were really surprised by the fact that we have meddling friends?”

“Guess not,” you sighed. “Would have wished they’d be more transparent about their meddling, though.”

So while Jessie might have done a shitty thing--while they all might have contributed to the worst night of your life--it felt a little easier knowing that they were only trying to help. It even made Jessie’s never ending quest to make you get over Harry feel a bit less annoying. 

But only a bit. 

You and Harry had been passing like two ships in the night for years, and apparently everyone but the two of you knew it. 

**

“This is serious,” you looked up from the couch, annoyed by the way he threw another goldfish in the air, his mouth open to catch it as it came back down. 

“America has the best snacks. That’s serious.” He looked over at you with a playful smirk, eyebrows wiggling on his forehead when your eyes met his. 

“If it weren’t your birthday I’d be more mad.”

“Fine--okay,” he settled back and threw a few more crackers into his mouth. “What was the question?”

“Favorite thing about going home?”

“To Holmes Chapel?”

You nodded, desperate to get something good out of him. The last few days had been filled with new ideas from Carly. Write about how normal he is, how down to earth. Do something with him that really shows how normal he is and then write about it. 

Sure--that’d be a great read. But you didn’t know how to do that without giving first hand information. 

So fine, maybe the interview was a bad idea. Now--after two weeks of trying to do it, you could finally admit it. 

“You.”

An eye roll as you shifted on the couch, thankful for the fact that his birthday celebrations didn’t begin until much later in the evening. You’d take as much time bundled in his clothes as you could. “Even if that were true, I couldn’t write it.”

“It is true!” His face twisted, clearly offended before he threw another goldfish towards the ceiling.  “You just can’t take a compliment.”

“I can too--just not when they’re fabricated.”

“Fabricated?!” He let a loud laugh that echoed through his living room, a smirk crossing his face when he stood off the couch. “You’re mental. Absolutely, one hundred percent, out of this world, mental.”

“Am not!” You shrunk into the couch when he got closer, a giggle escaping your lips. “Come off it, you’re the one who’s feeding me the bullshit lines.” He leaned down to tickle you, fingers grasping for the sides of your hips. “S’that the type of thing that works on all the other girls?”

He froze at that--a twitch in his lip when he pulled away from you. “No, Smalls--there’s,” his eyebrows dipped, a pause when he cleared his throat. “There aren’t other girls.”

“Oh.”

It was the reassurance that you wanted and needed, but something about it felt off. Maybe it was the way he didn’t lean down to kiss you or the way he pulled away when you reached out to touch him. He went back to the other couch and sat, hand back into the bag of snacks. 

“Do you have another question?”

You had a thousand, but none felt like they’d yield a good answer. 

**

You stood in front of Alyssa’s closet that night, hands running down the side of the green velvet dress she’d offered up. The fabric didn’t seem to stretch so much around her chest when she wore it, but it seemed like a better option than the black one you’d already tried on. 

Roger came to pick the two of you up, an excited smile on his face when Alyssa marveled at the heated back seats. She repeated the same things Harry had originally. 

If anyone asks, you’re there for work. What better way to get to know someone than having dinner with them and their friends? Maybe some of Harry’s friends could be trusted with the truth, but you were thankful for the fact that Twitter had been quiet and hopeful you could keep it that way. 

It was a small enough gathering, maybe fifteen others crowded around a family style table in another fancy restaurant--this one had enough private rooms with lounges that you wondered if the general public was even allowed in. 

Champagne toasts and sharing stories about the funny things that Harry had done during his 23rd trip around the sun. His manager made a bet that his 24th would be even better. 

He slunk an arm around your shoulders towards the end of the night, laughing in your ear when Alyssa talked about the way you mispronounced American words. He seemed to float around the room from group to group, thanking people for coming and letting his glass clink against the others’, a shy smile on his face when people showered him with praise. 

You didn’t feel as out of place as you’d hoped. You crossed your fingers for a bad night--one that would permit a slow but steady separation, saving you from the blurry lines that were to come. How often should he call you when he was on tour? Were you supposed to visit? 

Instead, you felt accepted by his friends and like they appreciated a new face in the crowd of people who’d been working together for a few years. 

“Meant to show you this earlier,” he said after another glass of champagne, flipping his phone around to reveal a text message from Jessie. 

Jessie Alby (5:23am): Happiest of birthdays!!!! Hope you have an amazing day and please tell Y/N that I love her and I’m a wanker and I’ll wait as long as she needs to tell all of that to her face. Xx

You rolled your eyes, eliciting a smirk from him. 

“She means it.”

“I know,” you said, bringing your glass up to your lips again. A few days since you’d last spoken to her had given you time to settle, less angry about that night and more understanding about why she’d done it--even if it was stupid. 

You looked up at Harry--his eyes held your gaze for a second, his dilated pupils a sure sign of intoxication. Jessie might be apologetic, but that was largely due to the fact that she thought things between you and Harry had finally been resolved. She didn’t know about the sex or the sleepovers and she certainly didn’t know about the interview. 

The last thing you needed was judgement from Mother Theresa herself. 

So you pushed the thoughts of Jessie and the gang out of your mind, thankful for the tiny sliver of New York that felt like a new world. One without memories of throwing up or getting drunk or saying stupid things. Alyssa excused herself just after midnight, a smile on her face communicated her hopes for you to end up in a bed other than your own. 

And when you were, Harry smiled over at you from his spot beneath the comforters, his legs intertwined with yours as his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks. “Come with me to Los Angeles at the end of the week.”

“What?”

“Come with me,” he said again, his voice slow, his breathing was fading towards that of sleep.

“Why?”

“Cause I like you, Smalls.”

You were quiet, you watched as his eyes closed, then opened, then closed again. The heat kicked on, a hum in the room before you spoke. 

“I like you too.”

“Just us--romantic.”

“Romantic?” You let a giggle escape through your lips, his eyes immediately opened, though he had trouble keeping them like that. A green light from the digital thermostat across the room seemed to glare back at you. 

“S’not funny!”

“Okay.”

“You’ll come?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

You nodded, and once his eyes were closed for good, you leaned over to shut off the light, wondering if anyone else had ever kept a stick of deodorant in his flat.

read the other parts here

come talk to me about tytl

tag list:  @clorenafila​ @ainsleesolareclipse @castawaycths @harryspirate @wanderlustiing @ursamajor603 @thurhomish @omgsharry  @stepping-into-the-light @rachkon​ @jdcharliewhiskey @sad-little-asshole  @shawnsblue​  @gendryia​ @g0bl1nqueen​  @laula843​  @flooome​  a-woman-without-a-plan @awomanindeniall​  @shaw-nm​ @staceystoleyourheart @ohprettylittlemind​ @anssu-amry​ @my-fandomful-life​ @stylesfantasy​ @bookingbee​  @mleestiles​  @haute-romance-quotidienne​  @craic-head-horan​ @talk-british-2-me-britbritharry​ @at-least-im-1​ @paigemck00​ @rawmeharry​ @pinkpolaroidgirl​ @blackxxmagicc @sksspotkitty @nearbyou​ @kalesouffle​ @sunnflowerchild​ @lmk12310

AN: thanks for being so patient with me while i got this chapter written and posted! i was sick and its christmastime and you know how that is. (there are a ton of easter eggs in this chapter about upcoming drama and i know y’all love a good easter egg hunt)

[strongerwiththepack]

Fab-Five-Feb: Gordon

Hope you enjoy this Gordon-centric fic as his week comes to a close. Poor Alan didn’t even get a mention in this one after getting the spotlight last week. Thanks again @gumnut-logic for this challenge. I’ve used the prompt ‘no clothes’.

“Tell dad I’m going out for the night.” Gordon said casually to John, who was in the kitchen doing work for school. He was hoping he could get away without John asking any questions. He almost succeeded as John just nodded, heavily engrossed in the book he was reading but as he opened the door to leave John seemed to snap out of it.

“Wait, where are you going?” John gave him a suspicious look.

“Just to the lake with some friends.” Gordon shrugged.

John narrowed his eyes. “Which friends?”

Gordon rolled his eyes. “Do we need to do this again John?”

“Apparently we do.” John said straightening up in his chair. “Those guys are no good for you Gordon.”

“Whatever John, you’re just jealous because they’re not friends with you.”

“They are not your friends Gordon.”

There was the toot of a horn sounding outside.

Gordon gave John a quick wave as he headed out the door. “I’ll be home by 10, okay?”

He didn’t give John the chance to respond before he was running down the driveway.

“Hey Tracy, that your weirdo brother at the window?” Todd Davidson mocked as Gordon clambered into the back of the 4-by-4.

Gordon just gave a half-hearted laugh. He knew these guys didn’t get along with John but he was never going to sit and ridicule his older brother. Although…he also wasn’t at the stage where he was ready to stick his neck out to defend John either.

He really wanted to impress these guys. They were older than him, he’d only just started to get invited along to hang out with them. Todd was a senior, like John, and most of his friends were either also seniors or juniors, Gordon was the only sophomore going tonight. Apparently there was a huge party going on at the lake just 20 minutes out of town.

Gordon had gotten friendly with Todd after the older boy had witnessed a fight Gordon had gotten himself into with another Senior – a Senior that Todd wasn’t too keen on either apparently. Gordon had taken the guy down with no more than a bruised cheek in return. He had three older brothers – he knew how to handle himself in a fight.

Speaking of his brothers, they had all been less than pleased with his behaviour, that’s why when Todd came along singing his praises he’d soaked it up. Scott was just starting his training in the air force and Virgil was away at college so they didn’t have the same influence on him as they used to. His dad had been very distracted lately and was away on business a lot. John had told him his dad had a big project in the works. Gordon hadn’t cared enough to question it further.

As for John, his closest older brother had given him quite the lecture but Gordon brushed it off at the time. John was always warning him about the guys in his year but Gordon was pretty sure John just didn’t know how to have fun. Heck, he’d definitely never seen his older brother go out to a party like this. Even Scott and Virgil had gone to their fair share of parties in their high school days. So when Gordon got invited to one himself, he jumped on the opportunity.

It about 7pm so it was already dark outside. Gordon stared out the window as they reached the lake. They drove round it for about a mile before the car drew to a stop. Gordon looked out at the darkness confused.

“I thought you said this was going to be a party?” Gordon asked looking out on to the silent waterfront. He’d expected a bonfire and loud music and he couldn’t hide his disappointment.

Todd chuckled from the front seat. “Don’t worry Tracy, we’re just leaving the car here and walking round.”

“Oh. Okay.” Gordon mused as he exited the car with the four other guys.

Todd went to the boot and pulled out a pack of beers, handing them out to everyone. He didn’t even hesitate to toss one in Gordon’s direction too.

Seeing Gordons look of unease he snorted “That’s not your first beer, right Tracy?”

“’Course not” Gordon was quick to shoot back, popping open the can. He took a sip and was hard pushed not to gag. Was it suppose to taste like that?

The guys set off down towards the water and Gordon couldn’t help but shiver a bit at the cold. This really wasn’t what he’d been expecting and he was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable.

He piqued back into the conversation as he heard one of the other guys shout at him. “Hey baby Tracy, aren’t you like a champion swimmer or something?”

He bristled a bit at the baby part but replied anyway, trying to sound impressive. “Yeah, coach said I could be on track for the Olympics if I put in the work.”

“Olympics, huh?” Todd grinned. “Give us a show then.” He said pointing towards the water.

Gordon gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah right.” He snorted.

Todd groaned dramatically and put his arm around Gordons shoulder. “Aw come on water baby, don’t be a party pooper.”

Gordon frowned. “You can’t be serious. It’ll be freezing.”

Todd just grinned down at him. “We’ve got towels in the car, just take another swig of the beer and you’ll be good to go. Come on Tracy, I know you aren’t a coward.”

Gordon stared out at the water. He tried to convince himself it would be fine. So what if he got a little cold? The guys would love it. He started to strip off his clothes.

The guys all cheered around him and Gordon felt his confidence return. Might as well put on a good show.

“There you go Tracy, knew you were up for a good time.”

When he was down to just his boxers he turned and gave the guys a mock salute before jumping off the bank and into the water. It was ice cold and the breath was knocked out of him immediately. He heard the guys cheering him on from the bank though so he kicked out and started swimming. He got into a rhythm after that. 1, 2, 3, 4, breathe, 1, 2, 3, 4…

When he figured he’d gone far enough out, he started treading water and looked back to the shore with a grin on his face.

It was silent.

His face dropped and he suddenly felt very alone. It’s fine, he told himself. He’d just gone too far out. He started swimming back, feeling the cold numbing his limbs slightly. When he got back to the bank and still couldn’t hear anything, he started to panic a little.

“Guys?” he called out. “Todd?”

He pulled himself up onto the bank, shivering as a light breeze blew past. He wrapped his arms around himself and noticed with a sinking heart that his clothes were gone as well.

“Very funny guys” he shouted into the darkness. “You can come out now.”

Everything remained perfectly still. Gordon ran back up to the road. The car was gone as well. Shit.

Gordon felt tears prickle at his eyes as he started to panic. He was standing in his boxers, soaking wet on a cold night in October. His phone had been in the pocket of his jeans so he didn’t even have anything to call home with.

His breathing picked up harshly. He was going to die out here. His body already felt stiff and the shivers tore through him harshly. Think Gordon.

John! John knew where he was. He just had to find a way to stay warm until John came to look for him. He sighed as he realised it was probably barely even 8 o’clock and John wasn’t expecting him back until 10. He needed somewhere he could wait until then. He vaguely remembered passing a water sports hut on the way in. That was probably his best option right now.

He walked a solid 30 minutes before he came across the old wooden building. He was pretty sure his feet were bleeding after walking all that way barefoot on the rocky surface but he was too scared to look. And too cold to feel it.

He tried the door but, as suspected, it was locked. He peered through the window looking longingly at the wetsuits hung up on the rack. Oh how he wished he could climb into about 10 of them right now. All layered on top of each other.

He trudged over to the changing cubicles closer to the water. Thankfully they were also made of wood and were not locked. He was relieved as he shut the door behind him. In the small confines of the changing room, without the wind, it was a mild temperature. It was still cold but not the hypothermic level of cold outside had been.

He curled up on the bench and prepared to wait.

*

He must’ve dozed off briefly cause the next thing he woke up to was what sounded like somewhere shouting his name. He bounced to his feet only to grunt as his legs gave out underneath him and black spots appeared in front of his eyes. He kneeled on the ground breathing heavily. He was so tired.

“GORDON!”

He lifted his head as he heard a familiar voice shout his name. He almost cried in relief.

“John!” He shouted, or tried to anyway, it came out more like the pathetic whine of an injured animal.

He pushed open the door to the changing room and half crawled, half stumbled out onto the grass.

“John!” he tried again as he managed to push himself into a standing position.

There was running footsteps in his direction and he tensed slightly until a steadying hand was placed on his shoulder and John’s face filled his vision.

“Geez Gordon, you’re freezing.”

That was all it took and Gordon pushed himself into John’s arm, violent sobs wracking his small frame.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he cried.

John was startled momentarily but was quick to return his little brothers hug, wrapping his arms around Gordons ice cold skin.

“You’re okay.” He reassured.

John was so warm. Gordons chest was tight as he cried out all the emotions he’d kept in the past few hours. Eventually John stepped back, grabbing one of Gordon’s arms and placing it around his shoulder to help Gordon walk. They limped slowly towards what Gordon hoped was a car. His limbs feeling lethargic and his feet were stinging from his previous walk.

John helped him into the passenger side of the car before rushing around the other side to turn on the heating. John got out again and returned with a thick blanket that he threw over his little brothers shivering form. He finally settled into the drivers seat and started the engine.

John glanced over at his little brother worriedly. “You need to tell me what happened Gordon”

Gordon buried his face in the blanket, feeling tear well up in his eyes again.

“You were right okay?” Gordon said defensively. “I shouldn’t have trusted those guys.”

“Did they hurt you?” John questioned quietly. He had been imagining the worst for the past couple of hours.

“They just left me out in the cold, half-naked and soaking wet.” Gordon grumbled bitterly before whispering. “I thought I was going to die.”

John barely caught that last part but hearing the vulnerability in his usually boisterous little brother made his blood boil.

“I’m going to kill those guys.”

Gordon startled. He’d never heard John sound so angry.

“It’s my fault John, I should have listened to you.”

“I never should have let you go in the first place.” John sighed. “Those guys have caused me so much trouble over the past 4 years.”

“You couldn’t have stopped me John, I’m just glad you still came to find me.” Gordon shuddered when he thought of what could have happened.

“I will always come for you Gordon. Always.” John promised.

Gordon settled back into his seat, finally warming up. He made a mental note to listen to John more in the future. John was always right. Why did none of them ever listen to him?

[necrokittytales]

Necrokitty Tales: Trouble in Inkwell Isle (Chapter 29)

Authors’ note: Necrida’s writing will be in italics and SPKC’s writing with be regular font. If you have no idea what this roleplaying thing is, you can start from the beginning here. NSFW here!

(A long time coming - sorry about this, totally on SPKC for this one - got nailed by life in general. An extra long, action packed chapter to make up for it!)

———————————————————————————

“What is taking him so long?!” Sullivan said, dress up in a blue Hawaiian shirt, a white cap and white shorts. “It’s only been like five minutes! Calm down already. You’re making me nervous,” Hilda snapped. She was similarly disguised, wearing a white cloth on her head, red sunglasses and a white dotted red dress. 

Carlos had told them he would get the tickets and asked them to wait for him near the bridge to the third isle. The waiting was starting to make both of them antsy but Sullivan’s whining was the straw to break Hilda’s back if he kept yapping. Thankfully, after a few more minutes, Carlos returned. He walked calmly towards them with a big smile on his face. 

"Finally!” Sullivan yelled, “What took you so long?” “You can’t rush love, mi amigo…” The cat said, holding two tickets. Sullivan and Hilda looked at each other, preferring not to ask any more questions and just took the tickets. “Two tickets…So you’re not coming?” the salamander asked. “I will accompany you, my friend, but I don’t need one to get in,” he assured with a wink. They arrived at the hive and got in the line for the visitors. When they arrived at the door, a very slim male bee asked to see their tickets. Sullivan and Hilda showed theirs. The bee turned to Carlos who smiled charmingly at the bee. “I’m here for Beatrice,” the cat informed him. The bee narrowed his eyes. “…There’s 235 Beatrice’s in this hive, sir…” “I’m here for THE Beatrice,” Carlos repeated. The bee opened his eyes wide. “THE Beatrice?” Carlos nodded, smiling even more. “…A moment, please.” He stepped behind the reception desk and made a phone call. The three saw the look of surprise in the receptionist’s face. He hung up the phone wordlessly before returning to the group. “..eh… Mr. Buenaventura?” “At your service.” The cat tipped his hat. “.. She’s asked for you to wait for her at the Main Hall,” he said, still looking at the cat, skeptical. “Muchas gracias!” Carlos waved and walked, whistling happily next to the other two, who were as surprised as the receptionist. They entered the hive and quickly followed the group of tourists before finally arriving in a circular hall as tall as several stories of the hive. There was buzzing sounds and movement everywhere they looked. The visitors group gathered in the center and four guards accompanied them. A very small female bee greeted the tourists and started explaining the history of the hive. Sullivan and Hilda tried to remain behind the group and be as discreet as possible as they tried to figure out where the prison was. After the speech was over, the guide asked the group to move forward to a corridor that would take them to the honey factory. “Vaya! That was surprisingly interesting,” Carlos said, happy to have learnt something new. “Say, how much do we owe you for the tickets?” Sullivan asked, grateful. “Your friendship!” Carlos replied patting him in the back. “I would do anything to help love soar. Now you two go ahead and save your loved ones, and live your happily ever after!” Sullivan’s eyes brightened. “Thank you, Carlos! I will never forget this!” He shook his hand. Hilda rolled her eyes. “Happily ever after…pff…” She mumbled, crossing her arms and blushing slightly. “Carlos!” A female voice called from behind the hispanic cat. The cat turned around to see an impressive bee fluttering toward him. “Oh! There you are my beautiful sunshine!” He greeted the large female bee guard wearing her uniform. “Sorry I made you wait.” “No need to apologize, it was actually very instructive,” he explained, gesturing to the tour group. The bee looked at her wrist watch. “I only have an hour before I need to go back to work…” “Then let us not waste time!” He offered her his arm and walked towards the mess hall. Carlos turned and shot a wink at Hilda and Sullivan before disappearing into the crowd. “Hey! Keep up or you’ll be kicked out” One of the guards flanking the tour group yelled at Sullivan and Hilda, forcing them to return back to the group.

____

Amber bounded through a beautiful field full of catnip. She wasn’t sure how she arrived here but it was a welcome respite from her ordeal in the hive. The wonderful sun felt warm on her fuzzy body and she couldn’t help but rejoice in this new experience. She pounced and leapt and napped. This was the best day ever! She thought it couldn’t get any better when a dark shadow rose over from behind. She turned around to see a very monstrous looking Cagney. “I’m gonna to eat you!” He roared. Her eyes went wide. “No! No! Don’t eat me!” She tried to run away but found she couldn’t move. She looked down to see the field was turning to mud under her feet. She tried to run faster only for his large gnarled hands to seize her. She waved her paws pathetically. “Wait, wait! I’m not very tasty! I’m all fur!” “You’ll be a delicious pussy!” He growled as he lifted her up in the air above his face. She almost groaned at the pun…until she realized it wasn’t a pun. The flicking of his tongue between her legs made her tail shoot straight up. “Wait, wait!” Amber shrieked, pushing down her suddenly way too short skirt.

He continued to lash at her entrance and she bucked and squirmed helplessly. “Ooh, uh wait? No, a little to the right. Yeah, ah!” Amber mewled starting to enjoy the attention. She threw her head back and felt something sharp poke her. Amber woke up with a startled gasp, looking around wildly. When she realized she wasn’t being stabbed, she sighed. “Just a dream. Just a really messed up dream!” She exhaled, trying to shift only to find herself unable to do so. She looked down to see a pair of green, leafy limbs wrapped around her body, holding her snuggly. She glanced behind her to see Cagney dead asleep to the world, snoring. Was he…cuddling her? That was kinda cute? He was mumbling something about a blimp and rubbing his petals into her back, every now and then poking her with a thorn. That thorn part was less cute. She remained where she, scrunching her nose as she couldn’t remember why they were here together. There was a knock at the door and Amber jerked fully awake as Cagney groaned. Holy crap, how could she forget? They were in the hive. Queen Rumor’s hive, to be precise. And it was quickly becoming a dangerous place to be for anything non-insect. 

Although Cagney would probably disagree with that statement, she remembered, spotting the bandanna around his neck. It was imbued with some form of magic curse that turned this flower into a mindless vegetable, subservient to the crazy Queen. The Queen would be most displeased to find the feline here within Cagney’s quarters and Amber did not want to stick around to find out what punishment would lie in store for her. “Gotta go, stay safe, Cagney,” Amber whispered, wriggling out of his grip as the door started to unlock. She climbed up the wall into the rafters just as the door opened. Cagney felt around and blinked unsuredly. “Amber?” He asked. The cat was gone.

Rumor opened the door slowly, holding the scepter tightly in her hand “..Sorry for waking you up,” she spoke coldly, glancing at the salted water and locking the door behind her. “Just came here to check on you.” She pointed her scepter at the water and turned it back to dirt.

Cagney brightened considerably at seeing the bee. “Good morning, Rumor…it’s morning, right?” He stood up, still hesitant eyeing what used to be the salt water. “Listen, I kinda want to apologize for what happened yesterday. When I’m in that form, I don’t have the best control and it just really wrecks my ability to think.”

Rumor’s heart melted at the carnation’s apology, but she kept her cool facade. “You’ve turned into that before?” She asked, a bit relieved that it wasn’t her bandanna's doing.

He nodded. “Yeah, one of the ‘perks’ when I traded my soul to look like this,” he gestured to his body. “It’s kind of my body’s way to defend myself if things get really bad…or if I get really angry.” He stretched. “Still wasn’t strong enough to stop Cuphead and Mugman when they collected our contracts,” he chuckled.

The Queen’s look softened. “Why where you angry before? Was it something I said?” She played the scene again in her head, blushing heavily.

He hesitated. “I don’t think it was anything you did. Maybe I was just anxious about becoming a royal gardener. I mean, do I have to make public appearances and stuff?” He asked.

“That’s what’s bugging you?” She smiled sweetly, getting close to him and taking his hands. “You just have to keep doing what you’ve been doing in your own garden. Except, in here… with me…” She got closer to his face, encouraging the plant to kiss her.

The carnation perked up at the touch of the bee and nuzzled her with his petals. “You’re a doll, Rumor,” he sighed happily. He eyed the spot on the bed that had been occupied just a few minutes before and brightened even more. “By the way, I really want to thank you for sending in your special service guard last night.”

Rumor’s soft look disappeared. “what are you talking about?”

Cagney nodded, not noticing the change. “Ya know, Amber. The cat I was fighting with? She came in and told me all about how you recruited her for the special guard thing ya had and how she was here to protect me.” “And I gotta admit, I never petted a cat before, but she was pretty soft. Definitely helped relieve some of my stress!” He exclaimed with a chuckle, “I don’t even know when we fell asleep but it was probably one of the best sleep I’ve had in a while! It was like holding a warm teddy bear. With teeth.” The carnation showed Rumor his hand where the cat had bit him. “She bites pretty hard if you touch the wrong spot. Gotta make sure to stroke correctly.” He pressed a kiss to Rumor’s cheek. “So, what’s the plan for today?” He asked cheerfully. He paused at the expression on her face. “Something I said?” 

____

The Queen Bee stormed out of the room. “Guards! GUARDS!” She screeched loudly and almost instantly a couple of guards, armed with spears, appeared on the corridor. “Yes, my Queen!?” They both answered. “Seal the hive. Nobody gets in or out! Look for the small cat we caught the other day at the docks with Cagney, and bring me the responsible bee of the prisoner transfer to the camp!” The guards nodded and immediately flew to carry her orders. An alarm blared and the hive became a buzz with commotion with windows and gates quickly being sealed. 

Cagney followed Rumor out, looking really confused. “But she was wearing one of these?” He pointed out, gesturing to his bandanna. He doubted Rumor could hear him.

Rumor turned to Cagney, even more confused and angry. “What? What did she tell you? What did you do in there?” Jealousy started to sting her heart. “My Q-queen!” Beatrice, the giant female bee guard, flew towards them, exhausted. “I-I’m sorry - I was-!” “Silence! Escort Cagney to my chambers. Nobody but me goes in or out!” Rumor yelled at the tired bee who nodded and made a sign for Cagney to follow her. “We’ll talk later” Rumor said to Cagney before flying down the corridor, leaving him alone with the bee.

____

“And that’s how we manufacture the delicious honey we all enjoy!” The small female guide announced, holding a jar of Rumor’s honey. “Are there any questions?”  

Hilda and Sullivan seemed a bit traumatized by what they had seen but at the question of the tour guide, they quickly snapped out of it. “This is a waste of time,” Sullivan loudly murmured to Hilda. “We got to find a way to get out of the group!” As if an answer to his prayers, an alarm suddenly blared loudly throughout the hive. “Attention please! A fugitive has escaped. For your safety, please remain indoors and cooperate with the guards!” The bees started to fly in an organised fashion to their homes and places to shelter themselves. The tourist group though, started screaming and running to the nearest exits. The guards were trying to keep them together but they were too many to control. Hilda smiled, grabbed Sullivan’s hand and ran away from the group, back towards the main hall.

____

Cagney allowed the large guard bee to lead him away as Rumor flew off. He couldn’t help but notice the fur on her uniform. “I think you got some fur on your pants…and your chest,” he pointed out, realizing midway through his observation that this was probably not the time to be pointing this out to the clearly stressed out but yet simultaneously relaxed looking bee. He cleared his throat and changed the topic. “So, eh, any chance I could go looking for the intruder too?” He asked hopefully. 

Beatrice immediately cleaned the fur from her uniform and cleared her throat, ignoring her red cheeks. “You heard the Queen. No one in, no one out” They reached Rumor’s office and the guard opened the door for Cagney, signaling him to enter. “I’ll be guarding the door." 

Cagney entered the room only to hear it lock behind him. He turned around and tugged on the door knob uselessly. "I’m getting really sick of being the damsel in distress around here,” he grumbled. He looked around his surroundings, trying to see if there were another exit. 

The big window that allowed the light to come in, was now sealed shut. The only light came from several small lamps hung around the room. The lamps illuminated the walls in Rumor’s chambers revealing them to be covered by books, perfectly arranged on the shelves. A few books were laid on the ground opened and stacked. 

With no easy exit, and nothing else better to do, Cagney flopped himself down on Rumor’s bed and began to play with his petals. “Ugh, hopefully Rumor fixes things up so I can get out of here.” He hummed to himself, “Maybe I could make friends with some friendly woodland creatures or sing a song or…” He jerked back up. “Oh my God, I AM turning into a damsel!” He spotted Rumor’s patch of garden and gave a slight smile. “Well, at least that’s something.” He rooted himself within the dirt and started to strengthen himself, especially since he was still feeling pretty sapped from the salt water. 

____

Having escaped the tour group, Hilda and Sullivan now looked around, trying to find a sign or some indication of where the prison cells were. Although there were thankfully no guards in sight, there was also nothing else but hundreds of bees flying in perfect lines to their shelters. “Arg! How can they live without any signs?!” Sullivan groaned in desperation. “Let’s just think for a second!” Hilda exclaimed. She paused and thought. “If you build a prison here, where would you put it?” Sullivan seemed to be thinking but before he could come up with an answer, Hilda spoke again. “Underground! No windows, only the doors you build, it’s perfect to lock up people!” She exclaimed. They found a set of stairs going down and they ran towards it. “I can’t help but be nervous that you were able to think of this so quickly!” Sullivan admitted as they descended, “and so enthusiastically…” he couldn’t help but add.

____

Amber ran like hell through the halls, using all four paws to propel her tiny furry body like a speeding bullet, whizzing past confused bees and tourists alike. Looks like Cagney had blabbed and very soon she wouldn’t have an exit. And without an exit, then it was only a matter of time before the guards found her. Then she might actually end up wearing a real piece of jewelry instead of the fake one she currently sported. One that turned her brain to mush. She scurried along the top part of the main hall but paused at the sound of a familiar voice.

Amber knew that voice. That was Sully! She saw him and an unfamiliar looking woman running toward the set of stairs leading into the dungeon and she nimbly leapt down behind them. “Hi, Sully! Looking for me?” She called out, striking a pretty pose.

Sullivan turned to the voice behind him and his eyes brightened at the sight of his beloved feline. “Amber!” He hugged her tightly. “I was SO worried about you! What did they do to you? Did they hurt you?” He asked, turning her around to look for wounds.

Amber allowed Sully to check her for wounds. “Aw, I’m okay! Nothing I can’t handle." 

Hilda looked around, hoping to see her friend any second now. "Where’s Cagney?” Amber looked at the woman and realized who she was. “Oh….you’re Hilda, aren’t you?”

Hilda lowered her sunglasses to have a better look at the cat. “Have we met?”

“Officially? No. From what Cagney told me or, uh tried to tell me when he could,” Amber admitted, “I figured you had to be her." 

She glanced aside and pulled them into a side hallway as a patrol buzzed by. She glanced at Sullivan. "This place is a looney bin, Sully. You shouldn’t have come, although it’s awfully romantic that you have,” she purred.

The salamander blushed. “Gee, well, of course I had to come. They took you without even hearing you out! It was all a misunderstanding.” He paused, looking at the patrol fly by. “Yeah, yeah, get a room!” Hilda snapped at them. “Where’s Cagney?” She hesitated. “…And what exactly did he say about me?” She asked, her curiosity stronger than her survival instinct.

Amber would have to break the news to Sully eventually. Especially considering there were nearly a 100 eye witnesses placing her at the scene of the crime, it was only a matter of time before he found out. But now was not the time. She turned to Hilda. “Well, last I saw, he was locked in his room. And do you wanna know what he said before or after he got brainwashed?” She asked, smoothing down her fur.

Hilda raised an eyebrow. “His room? Since when does he-brainwashed!? What are you talking about!?”

The cat groaned. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on here. After we got arrested and tossed in jail, the Queen talked to Cagney and he must have pissed her off something royal-” she hated herself for the accidental pun- “Because the next morning, they came down to the prison talking about taking us to reprogramming camps or something like that.” She shuddered. “A lot of the bees are acting really weird, more weird than normal after they all went to this reprogramming thing so I busted us out. We were doing pretty well until we ended up in the Queen’s office and uh…Cagney couldn’t hide in time.”

Amber motioned for them to duck down with her behind a cleaning trolley. “It was the Queen and some scary ant lady. And guards. Lots of guards. She scampered down another hallway. "He and Rumor started yelling at each other until she made him put on this stupid cloth and the next thing I know he’s acting just as weird as those bees, going all gaga for the queen!”

Sullivan noticed the cloth on Amber’s neck. Before she could speak any further, he grabbed the feline and pinned her facing against the wall. Hilda nearly jumped in surprise. “What are you doing!? Has everyone gone insane today?!” She exclaimed, yanking off her glasses. “I’m so sorry!” The amphibian apologized profusely as he carefully removed the bandanna. “How do you feel now?” he asked once it was removed from Amber’s neck,  “Are you still mind controlled?” Hilda facepalmed herself.

Amber turned bright red, feeling the salamander press into her from behind. “Sully, trust me I’d love to but now is not the time-oh!” She chuckled. “Oh, that’s just a cleaning rag I swiped from one of the janitorial trolleys! Fooled old grumpy petals last night into letting me crash the night with him so I didn’t get caught.”

Sullivan released Amber. “Oh boy! I-I-I’m so sorry!” He blushed and felt horrible for being so bold with her. 

Amber’s face turned serious. “No, the real one doesn’t come off.  And that’s a big problem. It’s messing with his mind. Every minute he’s starting to forget stuff. He’s having trouble remembering why he came here! He can’t even say your name anymore!”

Hilda felt a slightly jealous at twinge the mention of the cat sleeping with Cagney, but the thought quickly stepped away at the idea of her dumb weed forgetting completely about  her. She shook away her thoughts, focusing on their situation and how dangerous it had quickly become. She paid more attention to the bees around them and noticed that the worker ones had a bracelet, while the higher ranking bees had bandannas around their necks. “The cloth must be more powerful than the bracelets,�� Hilda concluded, talking more for herself than for them. She pulled off for her own cloth on her head and tied it around her neck. “Sullivan, wear the cat’s cloth! We’ll pretend we are brainwashed that we found the fugitive and we are on our way to deliver her to Rumor."  She turned to Amber. "You think you can take us to Cagney?”

Amber nodded. “Yeah, I last saw him locked into the room. But there’s a good chance Rumor moved him to hers when the alarm went off.” Amber scratched her ears. “Which one do you want me to take you to?”

Hilda sighed, starting to get anxious. “I guess the best option is going to Rumor’s directly. That way if he isn’t there she might tell us where he is.” Sullivan nodded as he tied the fabric around his neck.

Amber nodded once more. “Okay, then hold onto me like you’re taking me prisoner and I’ll whisper directions to you." 

Hilda, Sully and Amber traveled through the hive, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, which was rather hard to do when you were a human, a lizard and a cat in a hive full of bees. However, Hilda had that natural 'approach me and die’ look to her that deterred most bees from asking any questions and they were able to make it to Rumor’s door soon enough. As they neared the door - and the large bee guarding it - Amber’s fur suddenly went on end and she hissed.

"HALT!” The guard shouted. “ What’s going on here?” She demanded, extending her arm signaling them to stop. They obeyed but Sullivan couldn’t help but tremble, nervous at the sight of the imposing figure. 

“We are taking the fugitive to Rumor” Hilda said, keeping her cool. Beatrice eyed them skeptically before looking at their bandannas. “Rumor is not here. Who gave you the order?” She growled. Hilda gulped but remained still. “Beatrice,” she said, knowing that there where more than 200 Beatrices living in the hive. “Beatrice who?” The bee started to reach to her gun. Hilda was about to reply 'Smith’ when Carlos appeared from another hallway. “Ah! Ahí estás, my sunshine! You left me wanting more,” he smiled charmingly, leaning against the door and waving a pair of handcuffs, one side still attached to his wrist. The large bee looked at him, surprised, and then reddened. “H-how…?” “I told you I was full of surprises,” he purred. He noticed the group and gave them a smile. “Is this the fugitive I keep hearing about?” “Y-yeah,” Beatrice admitted, “But, uh, I’m not sure~” “Great! Then YOU can turn off the alarm and WE can finish what we started.” He shook the cuffs, smiling mischievously. Beatrice was really tired of guarding the door. She took one more look at the group, trying to figure out if they were really brainwashed. “Who did you say gave you the order?” “Uhh..” Hilda was caught by surprise, but Sullivan quickly intervened. “Beatrice! You know… the one with the…” He did a gesture with his opened hand circling his face. The guard opened her eyes widely. “Oh! Beatrice Smith?” Hilda grunted. “I thought she had to leave because of the wax incident.” The bee mimicked the same gesture around her face. “Y-yeah, uh… ” “The fugitive hid in her home,” Hilda intervened, noticing Sullivan was running out of material. Carlos signaled Beatrice to get lower and whispered something in her ear. The group saw the bee blushing and they both started giggling. It was comical to see the large, tall bee being all cute with the smaller skinny cat. “Fine! Fine. You can leave the prisoner here.” She unlocked the door. “I’ll go call Rumor."  Beatrice flew away through the corridor. When she was out of the way, Carlos applauded the trio. "Bravo! Bravísimo! Honestly, I never thought you were going to make it”

Amber cautiously watched Carlos. “What’s he doing here? Who is this?” She asked Sully as Hilda strode towards the door and fiddled with it

“He’s a friend, he helped us get in the hive,” Sullivan answered Amber, letting her go when the bee left. Carlos made a small bow and smiled charmingly.

Amber stuck close to Sully. “If you say so,” she acquiesced. Hilda opened the door with a shove, eager to see her friend again. “Cagney! Cagney?” She called out looking around the office and noticing the Queen’s chambers door open. Cagney’s head jerked toward the office at the familiar voice. “Hi-hello?” He tried, peeking out..

“Cagney!” Hilda smiled and ran towards him to give him a hug. “What are you doing in here?”

Cagney saw the slender woman running toward him and instinctively put out his hands to stop her from touching him. “Woah! Lady, ya can’t just run at a guy like that!” He cocked his head. “And how do you know my name? Have we met?”

Hilda stopped and looked at him, surprised, not really certain if he was joking or not. “How do I know your name? It’s me! Hilda!” She waited for his reaction. “Hilda Berg? The sky witch? Your best friend?”

Amber heard the shouting coming from the bed chambers and face palmed. “Oh shoot, it doesn’t sound like he remembers. Give me your bandanna, Sully.”

Sullivan gave Amber the fabric, wondering what she was planning to do. Cagney twitched at the name but he didn’t know why. His throat started to itch but he ignored it to keep looking at the woman. “Best friend?” He echoed before shaking his head. “Nah, Rumor and me are besties. You sure you don’t have your flowers messed up?” He asked, uprooting himself slightly.

“Wha…?” Hilda felt a knot starting to form in her throat. “I’M your bestie!” Tauros was starting to take room in the woman’s head. “You only like her because she’s a bee!”

Cagney scoffed. “Uh, no! She’s actually a very intelligent bee. And nice…when you know, she’s not turning dirt into salt water,” he admitted with a chuckle. Amber scampered in, wearing her bandanna. “Hi, Cagney!” Cagney looked past Hilda to see Amber. “Hey. Did you know Rumor’s looking for you?” His eyes hardened. “And did you also know she also says you’re lying about being a secret guard?” Amber pshawed. “Whhhattt? No way! If I was lying, why would I be here? Wouldn’t I be running away?” He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you run away this morning?” Amber paused. Shoot. He had a point. She broke into a wide smile. “Seems like you’re having a really stressful day so far!” “You can say that again. Rumor’s furious, this broad says I’m her friend,” Cagney jutted a thumb at a disbelieving Hilda, “And no one’s explaining anything.” Amber crept a little closer. “Would you like to pet the kitty?” She offered. The carnation’s eyes lit up. “Really?” “You can even pet the belly!” Amber insisted. “That would be great!” “Excellent, just reach down, yes that’s it, rub the belly,” Amber coaxed as Cagney reached down to pet her. Just as he was about to touch her belly, she latched on, nails out and sank her teeth into his hand. He swore and ripped Amber off of his arm. “Goddammit, Amber! That fucking hurt!” He turned toward Hilda and demanded, “Hilda, what the hell?! Did you know she was going to do that?!”

Sullivan looked unbelieving what Amber was doing, and Carlos laughed at the trick, for it reminded him of the many times it helped him get out from a sticky situation. 

Hilda smiled at him. “You DO remember me, you dumb dandelion!” She couldn’t help but hug him tightly.

The carnation felt like a ton of bricks hit him as the memory of who Hilda was came back heavy and strong. “Hilda?!” He wrapped his leaves around her tightly and returned the hug. “Aw man, I’m so happy to see you!”

The cat and the amphibian looked surprised as the Carnation seemed to recover his memory.

“Cagney we gotta get out of here!” The witch grabbed his hand pulling him to the door. “And take that bandanna off!” She managed to keep her voice steady, terrified her friend would forget her again.

The carnation couldn’t help but snuggle her hand, blowing off the tightness in his throat. “You can say that again. All I did was come here to ask Rumor for help but… Rumor!” He suddenly remembered where they were and he stopped snuggling her. “Hilda, Rumor’s nuts!” He insisted.

“And you just noticed now?” Hilda chuckled. “You can tell me all about it later! C'mon!” She pressed on.

Cagney stopped following Hilda. “I’m serious. She’s never been acted like this before.” He pulled away from her and grimaced. “Something’s really wrong and I can’t figure out why because I can’t think straight! And every time I try to think about it, it just hurts more, Hilda!” He grabbed his head with both hands. “Why does it hurt so much to try to say your name!? Or even think about you?!”

“Cagney!” Hilda drew close to him, not sure what to do. It was painful to see him like this. It reminded of her when she found out about the constellations living in her head.

Amber hesitantly eyed Cagney as he looked almost frantic. She psst the other cat, trying to get his attention.

Carlos ear twitched and looked at Amber curious.

Amber pointed to her neck and made a pulling motion toward Cagney, hoping the other cat would get the hint as the carnation proceeded to become more panicked by the second.

Carlos nodded at Amber and discreetly came closer to the carnation as he struggled with his thoughts. He got in position and waited for Amber’s signal.

“Cagney,” Hilda said softly, noticing the cats moving closer. “I know what it is to have a mess in your head. Just, uh, think about something that made you very happy. Like, eh, the first day of spring? Or uh…” She was getting really nervous as he started gasping. “I don’t know! Mineral water? Focus on that!”

“Mineral water?? Are you kidding me right now?” He gaped at her, “What kind of stupid idea is that?” His eyes widened as the bandanna tightened and he fell to his knees, choking.  One of his arms reached back toward the soil in the room. “Now, now, now! Before he touches the dirt!” Amber yelled pouncing on the carnation with Carlos, trying to rip off his bandanna. The carnation plunged his hands in the soil and immediately started changing form with a snarl. He flung the cats off and turned on Hilda with a glare. “You’re just using me, just like she said you would. Just like you always do!” He sneered.

Hilda stepped back frightened. Her heart broke to see the hatred in his best friend’s eyes… again! “Cagney, what are you saying?” She felt Tauros wanting to take control in her mind. 

He tried to continue speaking but any further speech Cagney had been capable of vanished as he continued to warp into his monstrous form. Carlos shook his head and saw the flower growing bigger. “I think it’s time to leave now!” He suggested, hopping to his feet. Sullivan immediately came to aid Amber. “You ok? Where does it hurt? ” He worriedly asked.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Amber groaned. She unsteadily got to her feet with Sullivan’s help and turned to see the carnation approaching a scared Hilda, the bandanna still snugly around his neck. She looked around for something but saw nothing she could chuck at him. “Kick his ass!” She finally shouted at the woman. The carnation turned away from Hilda at the sound of her voice, sharp teeth exposed.

“You ALWAYS have to ruin EVERYTHING!” The group turned to see Rumor screaming as she barged through the door, glaring daggers at Hilda. Beatrice and a bunch of other guards accompanied the queen and took positions surrounding the intruders. 

Sullivan stood between the nearest guards and Amber, extending his arms to protect more with his body. Carlos, used to these kinds of situations, remained calm and discreetly tried to approach Beatrice. “Rumor! What did you do to him!?” Hilda shouted pointing at the monstrous carnation. “I opened his eyes, Hilda! You can no longer control him, you manipulative witch! He’s FREE!” Rumor shouted, waving her scepter and throwing a strange purple sphere towards her. Hilda dove behind Rumor’s desk, barely managing to dodge it in time. The sphere exploded just inches where she was standing before, leaving a burnt mark on the floor. She popped her head out from under the desk. “You fucking crazy BEEch!” She shouted, surprised that she would blast her without a second thought. She knew they weren’t good friends, but they never fought this serious before. “Seriously!? Bee puns? Now?” Rumor answered angrily and, very bothered by it, threw another sphere, destroying her own desk. “Jesus Christ, Rumor! Did you brainwash yourself too?!” Another blast from the queen’s scepter forced her to jump near Cagney. “Snap out of it, Cagney! Do something” The meteorologist pleaded with the huge flower. “Oh! Good idea!” Rumor chuckled maliciously, flying in the air and waving her scepter, pointing to the ground. "Do something, Cagney. Get rid of the intruders!” A bright blast turned the floor into dirt. All the bees started to fly in place, avoiding contact with the ground.

 "Oh shit.“ 

That was all Amber managed to get out before large green tendrils shot out from the newly formed ground and seized Hilda, Sully, Amber and Carlos, hoisting them into the air. The intruders struggled to free themselves, trying to unwrap the vines around them with minimal success. Cagney chuckled darkly and looked toward Rumor, as if waiting for her next order.

Hilda had a déjà vu feeling. She couldn’t hear the constellation’s voices but she could definitely feel their panic. All except Tauros. He filled the woman’s body with enough anger and adrenaline to keep struggling. "So we’re doing this again, you overgrown weed!?” Hilda was so scared that she allowed Tauros to take over. “Well, this time I’m not holding back!” But when she was about to turn she realized nothing was happening. She looked down at herself. “What the-?!” “Hahaha!” Rumor laughed. “What’s the matter, witch? No sky to drain power from?” She delighted herself to see the woman powerless between her lover’s grasp. She flew closer to Cagney and sweetly stroked his petals. “We do make a great team! Right, Cagney?” She gently kissed him making sure Hilda was watching. 

The witch’s heart broke into pieces and her eyes started to get glassy. “You… fucking… is all this just to get at me somehow!? IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE DOESN’T LOVE YOU! You-you-” “Oh! But he DOES love me, Hilda. He ALWAYS did. But you kept luring him away from me! For your own benefit! Always taking advantage of his kind heart” She turned to the flower. “But now he sees the truth, what you really are. And what I really am…” She almost whisper tenderly to the carnation, stroking gently his petals.

Cagney leaned into Rumor’s touches, the bee knowing exactly where to touch on the monstrous flower’s petals to entice him further. At the sound of Hilda shouting, he turned toward the distraught woman and paused briefly, something flickering in the back of his mind at how upset she was. His vines loosened ever so slightly on the prisoners. 

“Alright, screw this,” Amber finally growled, freeing her front paws. She grabbed the vine wrapped her chest and bit down on it as hard as she could, drawing sap. Cagney roared and smashed the cat through the honeycomb wall leading to the next room. He lurched himself blindly toward the new opening of the wall. Rumor attempted to hold him still but this only led to him shaking himself wildly, knocking the gloating Queen out of the air and into her flying soldiers. The scepter flew out of the bee’s hands and clattered to the floor, shooting out a stray purple laser. It narrowly missed Hilda’s head, instead searing and blasting a large portion of the ceiling clean off. Large chunks of roof like honeycomb crashed down on everyone in the room, pinning some of the vines down and scattering the soldiers. The carnation could see nothing but red even with the sun now shining down on them. He whirled on everyone else left and opened his mouth, revealing very large sharp teeth. More appendages sprouted up and restrained both bee and mammal alike now.

“Amber!” Sullivan shouted, struggling to get out of the flower’s tendrils. He bit and scratched, but his tiny fangs and claws barely sunk into the monstrous carnation’s skin, and only made him tighten his grip, making it more difficult for the amphibian to breath. Carlos, feeling the loosened grip and taking advantage of the chaos, decided to follow Amber’s way and bit the vine as hard as he could before being thrown against the wall near the entrance door. Hilda’s eyes widened at the view of the sky and felt the constellations getting stronger. Her eyes and bracelets shone brightly and a thick mist started to cover her body and the rest of the room. “Let’s put an end to this!” The witch’s voice resonated like a thunder within the walls of the hive.

The carnation heard the loud boom of a voice and shot spiked vines toward the cloud of mist that billowed from where Hilda had been, leaving the rest of his captives trapped on the ground. The vines grabbed nothing but air as they attempted to seize where Hilda had been.

From the thick fog, a bull charged forward,  avoiding the thorny vines, and headbutted the carnation. He recoiled after the impact, cackling, happy to finally be able to strike a blow. Rumor shook her head and looked at the transformed Hilda with horror. “Cagney! Stop her! Get her away from the sky!” She yelled, searching for her scepter.

Cagney reeled back from the impact, shaking his head as he saw stars. He looked around, slightly confused, but upon Rumor’s order, hardened his expression and attacked Hilda. He coughed and hacked up dandelions toward the rampaging bull, trying to knock her out of the air, flaring his petals angrily when he continued to miss.

Taurus kept avoiding the tumultuous dandelions with quick turns and swirls. “Hahaha! Looks like the bigger you are, the dumber you get! You’ll never hit me with those! But I bet I can hit YOU!” Taurus did a swirl, creating a strong draft that flipped the dandelions back toward Cagney. A few of the dandelions hit some of the guard bees as well as Sullivan, who started to feel dizzy and confused. Carlos withdrew a knife from his coat and started hacking his way toward the scepter, dipping and ducking under dandelions. Rumor buzzed her wings rapidly, creating a draft to shoo dandelions away but still found herself struggling to completely get out of the tendril’s grasp.

A couple dandelions hit Cagney right in the kisser and he grew very disoriented, inadvertently releasing whatever captives he had retained. “Stop moving!” He yelled, his voice strained, even as he rocked back and forth, trying to keep his balance. He winced as something cut him again and took a wild swing in the direction of the attack.

Carlos got hit by the swing of the vine, knocking him against Rumor making both to fall down.“Ouch! Perdone, señorita!” Carlos apologized only to be pushed by the angry Queen. Taurus groaned.“Oh! NOW you remember me!” Noticing the flower’s confusion, Hilda saw her chance to get the bandana and flew quickly around Cagney’s head. To make sure the flower would stay disoriented, she flew in circles several times to confuse him even more. With each turn she drew closer and closer. “Don’t worry, Cags! I’ll get you out of this!”. “What are you doing!?” The queen shouted at her guards. “Get her! Don’t let her get close to Cagney!” Most of the bees were still disoriented.  They tried, without success, to chase the fast cloud turning in circles, confusing them even more.

“Beat this!” Cagney snapped, plunging his hands back into the soil. Large vines shot up from all around, effectively surrounding and closing around him until it was almost a cactus like cocoon. He continued to cackle from inside his makeshift fort.

“Oh! You bastard,” Taurus groaned but his mouth turned into a twisted grin. “Let’s put you to the test. How much can you take?” The mist grew thicker again around Hilda’s body and turned into a giggling Gemini. “Fair warning!” They spoke in unison towards everybody. “Get out while you still can!” And with a sinister laughter, Gemini created a golden sphere that started shooting projectiles in all directions, most of them hitting Cagney’s cocoon, leaving some significant burnt marks.

Sullivan was still disoriented, but at the warning he started calling out for Amber. 

Amber stirred awake in the next room at the sound of her name. She limped back over to the hole she was flung through and peeked inside. Her eyes widened at the chaos as projectiles, vines and bees flew in all directions. 

She spotted a disoriented Sullivan and grabbed him by his shirt before dragging him back through the hole. She waved her paw in front of his face. “Hey? You okay? What’s wrong?” She worriedly asked, not liking how confused he look. She continued to snap fingers at Sullivan, growing increasingly worried when he didn’t respond. “Hey! You in there or not?!”

Sullivan started to recover. “A-Amber? You ok!?” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You gotta get out of here!” He looked around trying to find a way out.

Amber nodded along with Sullivan. She looked around the room they had been launched into and scowled when she realized there were no other exits. That crazy bee really did have everything sealed off. 

“Ay! Otra vez no!” Carlos lamented, helping a confused Beatrice to dodge some projectiles. Rumor was livid, having been the painful recipient of quite a few golden shots. She clenched her fist, seeing red. “Kill her! KILL HER!” She ordered finally reaching for her scepter. “YOU WON’T TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!" 

The least disoriented bees started to wonder about their queen’s sanity. The way she was yelling orders, not caring for their safety was unlike the monarch. Even Beatrice, one of her most loyal bees was starting to have her doubts about whether or not she should follow the orders.

When the last of Hilda’s projectiles finished firing, the cactus cocoon crumbled, revealing a large hole. Before Gemini could react, Cagney emerged from the dirt behind them and seized the women with his hands. He was fairly beaten up, the fiery ball of death having done its job well and damaging everything - including all the plant material that was part of him. He stared at Gemini, a confused but still upset expression on his face. "Turn back into Hilda,” he finally panted.

Gemini struggled in the flower’s grip and the mist surrounded them. Cagney felt how the delicate figures merged into one and suddenly he had to tighten his grip to the feeling of something trying to burst out of his hands. The mist cleared and in front of the flower was Sagittarius trying to push the carnation’s hands apart with his powerful hooves. “Transform back to Hilda? So you can squish us again!?” The constellation glared at the flower, showing more fear than confidence. Sagittarius was still Hilda, and he didn’t want to hurt their dearest friend. Gemini had already done enough damage. “M-my queen… it’s dangerous here! We have to take you to safety!” Beatrice managed to say to Rumor, as Carlos held her up by her arm. Rumor didn’t listen to her guard, instead watching Cagney’s movements intently, waiting for the moment he would crush the witch and putting an end to all this. Beatrice and some other bees trembled noticing the craziness on their beloved queen’s eyes. Sagittarius was incredibly strong but Cagney was determined not to release his grip. “I don’t want to let go!” He growled, and he wasn’t talking about the constellation. Memories were starting to come back and it was a struggle to hold on to them. He wasn’t sure if he was going to pass out first. He looked desperately at Sagittarius. “Hilda! Please! I don’t want to let go of you again!” Sagittarius saw the despair in Cagney’s eyes and felt his heart quiver. The mist started to cover the constellation, revealing a very worried Hilda trapped in his monstrous hands. “Cagney?” She almost whispered, tired of the struggling and fighting. She looked deep into his eyes, hoping to find her best friend again. Her eyes were glassy and it was getting really hard to hold her tears.

Cagney looked at Hilda, immediate relief seizing him at seeing her alive and…uh, not exactly well, but in good enough condition. He saw how worried she was and he could only imagine what she had to get through to even get here. He clasped her to his chest and enveloped her in the biggest hug he could. “I am so happy to see you,” he exclaimed, trying not to crush her in his excitement. He nestled his petals against her even as the bandanna began to tighten. “Hilda, please don’t let me forget you,” he choked.

Hilda returned the hug as hard as she could, a couple of tears escaping through her cheeks, when she noticed the bandanna. She immediately grabbed it and looked for the knot. Rumor couldn’t believe her eyes. “What are you doing!? CRUSH HER!” “NO! Cagney, please!” The witch tried to whisper calmly but it was hard to talk with a knot in her own throat.

“CRUSH HER!” The queen repeated. “Cagney! Hold it! I almost… got… it… ” Hilda said going as fast as she could.

Cagney felt himself dipping back under Rumor’s influence and he panicked at the loss of control. Hilda was starting to fade into a target again and it was only another second or so before he made do on the order to crush her. He needed to get hurt again. He spotted one of his sharp spiky plants still erect, with a particularly long thorn protruding from the side. It was within reach. He winced preemptively as he seized it, continuing to hold Hilda to him with his other hand. “This is going to hurt,” he chuckled before he thrust the thorn sharply inwards, stabbing himself in the stem. His grip weakened on Hilda and he continued to chuckle, shooting Rumor a dirty look even as he felt himself bleed sap.

Hilda, noticing the loosen grip, saw her friend stabbing himself. “Shit, Cagney!” She finally untied the bandanna and she held it tightly in her hand. “I GOT IT!” She shouted, happily waving the fabric, victorious. “Cagney, I got it!” She hugged him again. “No…” Rumor whispered. Her eyes narrowed and her fingers tightened on the scepter within her grasp. “WHY DO YOU ALWAYS RUIN EVERYTHING!” She screeched, launching herself into the air. 

Rumor flew in dangerous zig zags before aiming the scepter at the embracing couple. A dark smile formed on her lips as she instead flipped the scepter downwards and blasted the ground, obliterating the entire floor of her office. With the exception of Carlos who held onto a levitating Beatrice for dear life, everything that had been on the office floor, furniture and folks alike, plummeted downwards into the depths of the hive.

The moment Hilda had pulled that bandanna off his neck, there was a second of clarity and nothing else. The next second, Cagney was hit with an intense pain from his self inflicted stab wound and a deluge of memories about Hilda, both good and bad. It was so staggering, he swore he was falling backwards into darkness just from the sensation of it all.

Well, until he realized they really WERE falling. Not that he could do much about it. Without the dirt around his roots, he had no powers to stop them from the fall. Seeing Hilda’s face near his and realizing that the memory of her wasn’t going away did make him smile. “Thank you, ya dumb blimp,” he chuckled, returning the hug once more. 

The action made him wince. The lack of dirt also meant he lacked any ability to heal. “Man, I really wish I hadn’t stabbed myself so hard,” he finally managed still laughing, even as he felt like passing out.

Hilda was still hugging the carnation. She was so happy to hear his insult she didn’t realize they were falling until they hit the bottom floor, Cagney’s body breaking their fall. The plant’s grip slackened on her with the impact and she was aware he wasn’t moving much. “Cagney! Shit! You ok!?” She reached down to check for wounds only to be stopped something violently yanked her off of him.

Hilda struggled to pull herself free and looked up to see Rumor had been the one to grab her, making sure to bruise her skin with tightness that the bee held her. Before the sky witch had a chance to fight back. Rumor flew up as fast as she could and threw Hilda against the wall with all her strength. Cagney definitely did not feel so good either. One minute, Hilda was holding onto him and the next he was hitting the ground and she was getting dragged off. “Ugh, wait come back…” He groaned quietly.

____

Amber walked back over to the hole in the wall and blinked in surprise. The floor was completely gone!! And everyone was in the process of tumbling down the new large hole. Which was probably the only way out. She grimaced and turned toward the salamander. 

“Hey, how good of a climber are you?”

Sullivan nodded and got to the door to climb down. His amphibious body was perfect for latching onto the sticky huge wall. He secured his grip before looking up at Amber. “You need help going down? You can hold onto my back.”

Amber nodded. “Yes please.” She carefully climbed onto Sullivan’s back and held on tightly as the salamander quickly scaled the wall. She glanced below to see the Queen bee tossing Hilda like a rag doll and winced. 

____

For a few seconds, Hilda saw more stars than what she was used to. When she recovered, she was on the floor next to a few drops of blood. She reached for her head with a shaky hand and realized that it was her blood when the crimson liquid decorated her fingers. 

Her eyes glinted with a combination of anger and pain. “Fuck is WRONG WITH YOU, RUMOR!?” She managed to stand up, her bracelets and eyes shining very brightly as Rumor descended upon her in her bomber jet form. “Since when do you want to kill me?!” She quickly turned into a blimp and rocketed up in the air just as Rumor launched towards her, missing her and hitting the wall with her face. “This!” Rumor spat, recovering from the hit. “This time, I WON’T LET YOU WIN!” She charged again against the confused blimp. The bees tried to recall their queen back to her senses, but the royal bee wouldn’t listen. Carlos had been watching the fight from the side but upon seeing Cagney on the ground barely moving, signaled Beatrice to take him down to the ground. “Petals! Petals, groan twice if you’re still conscious” He asked, surprisingly worried. He barely knew the guy, but seeing how he hugged the crazy moon lady, it melted his heart. Plus, he was losing a lot of sap at an alarming rate and that couldn’t be good for a plant. Sullivan and Amber arrived shortly afterwards to the ground floor. 

Amber spotted Cagney and bit her lip. “…uh, Sully. The flower doesn’t look so good.”

The amphibian carefully let Amber get down from his back and saw the flower’s bleeding wound. “Oh boy…”

Amber scampered over to the carnation. “Hey! Hey! Wake up!” She yelled but the carnation only groaned again and waved weakly at her. 

“Does anyone know any first aid?”

“I do!” Sullivan and Carlos answered at the same time as Beatrice left Carlos on the ground and looked at her queen, terribly worried. “We have to remove the thorn,” suggested Sullivan. “Not before making sure we have something to stop the bleeding,” Carlos added, looking closely at the stab wound.

Amber pulled off the yellow bandanna off her neck. “What about this? Can we use this?” She asked hopefully.

“That might work!” Carlos said to Amber with a smile.

“I’ll call for reinforcements!” Beatrice flew quickly out of the room and made a signal to the other confused bees to tend to the other wounded bees.

____

Hilda had never seen such a furious Rumor in her life. She kept avoiding the plane’s charges, hoping that Rumor would come to her senses once she figured out she was destroying her own hive, only to realise the queen didn’t care what she charged to. Everyone was in danger. Hilda looked to the hole in the roof and flew quickly in front of it. Perhaps, if she could lure Rumor out in the open, she would have a chance to knock her outside without hurting anyone. “Rumor! C'mon! I know we had our differences but brainwashing!? Aren’t you taking it a bit too far?” “Ha! You’re the one to talk!” Rumor yelled. “You’ve been controlling him ever since you met him!” “Stop saying that!” Hilda was getting tired of hearing that. Or maybe it was exhaustion from transforming so much. “Cags and I have been friends since before we met you! It’s not my fault you don’t have friends, only these-these brainwashed  zomBEES!” She chuckled. “DAMN YOU, HILDA!” Rumor shouted, charging towards her again, but this time, with saws on her wings.

Hilda waited until the last second to dive out of Rumor’s way, an error she paid dearly for by getting slashed on her leg, making it really painful to pedal. Rumor flew through the hole, making it bigger with her deadly wings. So manic was she that she acted in a bloodlust, hardly aware of the pieces of ceiling that tumbled down…nor the falling scepter that had slipped from her grasp during her transformation.

____

“Ok, then, listen up,” Sullivan signed Carlos and Amber to get closer as Beatrice left. “Carlos and I will take the thorn out. As soon as it’s out, Amber will tie the bandanna and put pressure on it."  

"C'mon Petals! Don’t fall asleep now!” Carlos said, getting ready to pull the thorn. “His name is Cagney,” Sullivan corrected him. “Petals is easier to remember”. Sullivan rolled his eyes. “Ready, Amber?”

Amber nodded. “Ready!” On that, Sully and Carlos pulled the thorn with a yell. She immediately dove on the wound, bandanna on hand and applied as much pressure as she could. She smiled but then looked at Sully. “Uh….now what?”

Cagney gasped in pain at the thorn’s removal. “Shit,” he muttered, “now I know how Hilda felt.” He listlessly looked around for the woman only not to find her. The sounds of explosions and destruction clued him into the fact that she was probably up in the air. He tried to focus on her but his vision was hazy. She looked like she was moving slower somehow. Which didn’t seem right. The crash of honeycombs smashing near him didn’t really get his attention until the clank of something metallic followed it. He looked over to see Rumor’s scepter sticking out of a honeycomb and his mind started racing. He remembered all this craziness started as soon as Rumor pulled out that dang scepter. Which didn’t make sense. She always had a scepter. But this one looked different from what he recalled. Almost dull and warped. Whatever the change, he had to get it. He reached pathetically for it, just out of his fingers’ reach.

“Now we should find a way to disinfect and stitch the site,” Sullivan explained, looking for something they could use, unaware of Cagney’s attempts.

“Say no more!” Carlos opened his jacket and pulled out a flask, a needle and a thread. Sullivan looked at him strangely. “You just walk around with that all day?” “Of course!” The Hispanic cat replied, gesturing for Amber to remove the bandanna and spilling the alcohol over the wound. 

The splash of alcohol on Cagney’s wound burned like hell, forcing him to jerk upwards with a girly scream before Amber could slam him back down with a surprising amount of strength from such a small feline. “Ow! What the hell?!”

Carlos continued. “Mi abuelita used to tell me: 'Carlitos, it’s a very big world out there, and you’re a very clumsy boy! Always take a first aid kit with you’ ” He spilled some on the needle and thread. “Ok Petals! Not gonna lie to you, this is going to hurt… I think. I’ve never had to stitch a tree before…" 

____

Hilda wasn’t sure how much blood she was losing from her leg wound but it had to be a lot. She knew she couldn’t keep up pedaling for long and she rested on the roof of the hive, turning back to herself. She struggled to stand, but she managed to stay still as Rumor did a U turn in the air and back headed towards her again. 

"CAGNEY IS MINE!!!” Rumor shouted, completely mad, her eyes full of hate, and her grin twisted with anger. Hilda was very angry herself, her bracelets and eyes glowing like a fire. “You’re gonna have to kill me to get to him!” Her voice was distorted with the voices of the twelve constellations. She lifted her arms and thick clouds covered her entirely in a magnificent spiral.

Rumor couldn’t see anymore and, although she was very angry, knew better than to fly through the sky witch’s cloud. She halted just outside of it as clicking and tinkling sounds emerged from within. The mist parted as Hilda emerged in crimson moon form, a malicious grin upon her lunar face. “Let’s put an end to this!” Rumor didn’t waste a second and fired missiles as Hilda did the same. The aftershocks of the projectiles exploding in the air produced some twisted fireworks visible from the other isles.

“Cagney would be so much happier if he never met you!” Rumor shouted as she sliced the moon’s cheek. “You keep using him to boost your weak, pathetic ego!” She jabbed again, inflicting another wound.  “What is wrong with you, Rumor?! You’ve never been this crazy for him! Or anybody!” Hilda argued, hoping an appeal to reason would slow her down. “I found a good friend, Hilda. She warned me about you. She showed me what you really are!” The plane charged again but this time Hilda was ready for her, deflecting the attack. The counterattack infuriated Rumor and she instinctively reached for her scepter only to realize she didn’t have it.  “W-what? W-where is it!?” She started to panic, a moment that Hilda took advantage of to launch one last attack: throwing missiles, stars, and even herself towards the confused plane.

____

“Can’t you let me just die or something?!” Cagney whined as Carlos haphazardly stabbed him against with the alcoholic needle.  “No! You need to stay alive, you petal for brains!” “The only one who’s allowed to call me that is…Hilda!” The carnation looked up to see Hilda in her moon phase. That was her last resort attack which meant she must be really faltering now. He looked around for and spotted the scepter again. It must be connected to all this. He had to get it. He tried to reach for it only to recoil in pain with another jab of the needle. 

“You call that stitching?” Sullivan shook his head seeing the poorly attended wound. “As long as it holds, mi amigo”. “It’s not going to hold! Argh! Gimme that!” The salamander took the needle from Carlos and begun stitching gently, doing a better job than the Hispanic cat. “Help Amber hold Cagney down,” Sullivan ordered. Carlos obeyed and held the flower’s stem down to the ground.

Cagney struggled against their help. “No, I gotta do somethin! Hilda ain’t gonna last much longer!” The flower reached for the fallen scepter one last time, this time grasping the base of it and dragging it to himself. He panted and collapsed again, holding the dumb metal rod to his chest.

“Hey!” Carlos exclaimed, noticing the scepter. “How did you get that?”

The whole world spun for the carnation but he finally managed to stand up, shoving off Carlos and Amber’s attempts to lay him back down. He waved the scepter. “Hey, Rumor!” He yelled, attempting to get the attention of the Queen Bee.

Hilda and Rumor looked fairly war torn, having taken some serious damage from their special attacks. Despite their exhaustion, they still glared at each other, neither women determined to give up the fight. They were about to charge into each other again when Cagney’s voice from below drew their attention and they looked down. “Cagney?” Rumor called back sweetly, glad to hear her beloved call out her name and not that of the witch’s.

Cagney smiled weakly. “I’ve been thinking about us and, ya know what?” He held out the scepter toward her. “I think we should take a break!” And with that, he slammed the scepter into the ground, shattering it into hundreds of pieces.

“NO!” Rumor screamed, transforming back into her royal self. She rapidly landed and attempted to scoop up the pieces of what remained of her scepter.  “What have you done!? What have… you…you…?"  

Her voice died in her throat. Her mind flooded with blocked and distorted memories that the scepter had prevented from her remembering. The queen felt like everything was swirling around her as flashes of memories kept popping in her mind confusing her. Hilda turned back into herself and cast a cloud with what little energy she had left. She slowly levitated back into the hive, putting pressure on her leg wound before she landed close to carnation. Sullivan, Carlos and Amber didn’t dare move a muscle, expecting the Queen bee to burst angrily any minute.

Finally, Rumor took a shaky breath and looked up to see the two island bosses. "Hilda? C-cagney…?” She asked softly, uncertain if she was hallucinating, looking more like herself again. 

“Hey, Rumor,” Cagney painfully managed, “Glad to see you being you.” He made a motion to step forward only to wince and clutch the side of his stem. Hilda approached him and he pulled away his leafy hand to reveal it was now coated in thick sap. Her eyes darted down to see the wound now free flowing, the sutures having popped during his exertion.

He looked down at himself before back up at Hilda with a strained pale smile “…I’m just gonna stop standing now, ok, Hilds?” And with that, his legs crumpled from underneath him, passing out without another word.

———————————————————————————

 CHAPTER 28 (nsfw) ; CHAPTER 29 (You’re here) ; Next (not ready yet)

[illbeyourreasonwhy]

So Much I Think It Must Be...

Chapter 4: Not That We’re Friends

“You know, you sure know a lot about her for someone who supposedly hates her.” “I don’t hate her, exactly. I just… like getting on her nerves.” “You’re very good at it.” “I know, thank you.”

Chapter 4 of my Ambi Enemies to Friends to Lovers fic!! You can read it on ao3 here, and from the beginning here

*

“That one, absolutely.”

“Glad we agree,” Andi said, putting one shirt back on the rack and the other in TJ’s arms. “You know I can carry my own stuff, right?”

“Nah, you’re too tiny.”

“Gee, thanks.” She paid for the shirt and they moved to the next stand. “We should go thrift shopping more often.”

“Agreed. Hey, check it out!” He pulled her over to a man selling top hats, and he enthusiastically put one on. “What do you think?”

Andi brought her hands together, grinning. “So handsome. Definitely wear that when you ask Cyrus out.”

TJ took the hat off, blushing. “Shut up.”

They moved onto the next stand and Andi nudged him. “Seriously, why don’t you? Ask him out, I mean. You know he’d say yes.”

“No I don’t know that, Andi,” he said, cheeks still red.

“Oh my god, you’re right, you taking him out on a date will absolutely destroy his huge crush on you.”

“He does not have a crush on me.”

“Whatever you say, TJ.”

They stopped at an elderly woman’s stand so that Andi could look at the different fabrics she was selling; maybe she could use some for one of her projects.

“You really think he likes me?” TJ finally mumbled, about five minutes after the conversation had ended.

“About as much as you like him,” Andi answered softly.

TJ didn’t say anything, so Andi smiled and paid for a baby blue cloth. She was well aware of the fact that TJ was not, in fact, going to tell Cyrus how he felt anytime soon, and that Cyrus wasn’t either. The two of them had been pining for each other for over a year and a half, which was obvious to exactly everyone but them. Marty had organised a betting pool as to when they would get together; Andi had fifteen dollars weighing on junior prom, almost a year away.

“We should go dirt biking again sometime,” TJ said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “We haven’t gone in ages.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Andi agreed. “How about Monday?”

“Can’t, I’m working on Monday. Maybe we could go tomorrow, though?”

“No, I’m meeting with Walker.”

“Walker?” TJ repeated, surprised. “I didn’t know you two were talking again.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other the other day and we decided to work on a mural together. You know, for old times’ sake.”

“Huh.” TJ smirked. “Is anything going on?”

“No, none of that,” Andi said. “We’re just friends.”

“Alright.” He gestured to an orange shirt displayed on the other side of the street. “Hey, what do you think of that?”

“Orange isn’t my colour,” she shrugged. “I’d give it to Amber.”

TJ looked confused. “To… Amber?”

“Yeah, she hates orange.”

“That makes more sense,” he said. “You know, you sure know a lot about her for someone who supposedly hates her.”

“I don’t hate her, exactly. I just… like getting on her nerves.”

“You’re very good at it.”

“I know, thank you.”

He laughed, wrapping an arm around her and dragging her over to a teenager selling a series of basketball t-shirts. Andi had long since given up on trying to save his fashion sense, so she let him excitedly go through the pile as she looked around.

Her gaze landed on a group of girls a few stands ahead of them. They were looking at some cheap jewelry, and Andi’s eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to one of the girls, to her wavy hair, to the way it framed her face perfectly, to her eyes and the way they lit up when she smiled, to that one loose strand of hair, to –

“… right, Andi? Andi?”

“Huh?”

“I was just saying… Are you okay?”

TJ asked, looking worried. Andi forced a smile. “Yeah, all good. How many shirts are you buying?”

TJ frowned, looking concerned. “You’re encouraging me to buy these shirts?”

He ended up buying three and they kept walking. He started talking about the basketball championship, glancing at her every few seconds but not pushing her to talk, which she appreciated. She wasn’t sure what it was she was feeling, exactly, except that there was something in her heart telling her that she wasn’t sure how long she was going to be able to pretend that the way she was looking at girls was only noticing how pretty they were. She was noticing them.

And that terrified her.

She stayed mostly quiet for the hour that followed, until TJ dropped her off in front of her house.

“Hey, TJ?” she asked just as he was about to leave.

“Yeah?”

“How… did you know you were gay?”

He blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, before schooling his face back to normal. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious.”

She could tell he knew it wasn’t the whole truth, but he answered anyways. “I don’t know, I just… had crushes on boys. I didn’t even really think about it too much until… you know, everything that went down with Kira.”

“Right.” She glanced at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think of her.”

He waved it off. “Don’t worry, I’m over it.”

He put a hand on her shoulder, before getting back on his motorcycle.

“Hey, Andi, whatever it is that’s going on… You’re okay. You know that, right?”

She hesitated, before walking over to him and pulling him into a hug. It was awkward because of the bike, but he hugged her back. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He put his helmet back on. “So, dirt biking on… Tuesday?”

“Sounds good.”

*

“So, what are we working with?”

She and Walker were standing in front of a blank wall looking starkly similar to the one they had worked on together two years earlier. Walker brightened, gesturing to the paint behind him.

“I was thinking we could do a sort of nature theme, with a lot of green tones. Since we’re near the park and all that.”

“Alright,” Andi smiled. “Let’s get started.”

For the next hour they worked on it. Andi was having more fun than she remembered having in a long time; there was something so great in being able to work with someone on such a great surface.

“Wow, this actually looks good.”

They both turned to see Amber standing there. She looked impressed, despite the small twist at the corner of her lips.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Andi said, but there was no heat to it.

“I’m not. I know you guys are both art-geniuses or something.”

“Art-geniuses?”

“You know what I mean.”

Walker smiled at her. “You’re welcome to join us, if you want.”

Why, oh why, did all of Andi’s friends have to take a liking to Amber?

“Oh, you guys seem to be doing just fine, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Amber said, the twist in her lips deepening for a fraction of a second.

“Alright. Well, we’re running out of green paint, so I’m going to get some in my car. I’ll be back in five minutes,” Walker said.

Andi and Amber were left alone in an uneasy silence for a few seconds, before Amber straightened up. “Well, I best be going, too, so…”

Andi nodded, before turning back to look at the mural. She and Walker were about half-way done; it didn’t look like much yet, but when they would be done it would probably look spectacular.

“Wait, did you paint this? It looks horrid.”

She whirled around. “Excuse me?”

The guy who had spoken, a boy around her age, smirked, pointing at the painting. “I mean, come on, this looks absolutely awful. Like, a three-year-old could have done that.”

Andi blinked, her throat burning. Two years of feuding with Amber had made her pretty good at thinking of witty quips on her feet, but at the moment all she could think of was of how bad her hands were shaking and how hot her cheeks burned and how stupid she felt.

Until a new voice came in.

“Oh, and I suppose you think you could do better?”

Amber was back; she moved to stand in front of Andi, her arms crossed and looking absolutely murderous.

“Come on, step up, take a brush, I want to see what you can do.”

“I’m not some girl who paints in her free time.”

“Okay, a few things here,” Amber said. “I kind of feel like that was meant to be an insult, but I’m really failing to see how you thought that would be effective.” She uncrossed her arms, taking a step forward. “I mean, ‘girl’, really? You realise you’re trying to prove a point to two girls as you say that? And also, seriously? You’re what, sixteen, and you think ‘girl’ is an effective insult in 20-fucking-19?” She turned back to shoot a look at Andi, who was too frozen by what was happening to react. “And, I mean, if you want to diss her painting, you might want to go with something other than ‘someone who paints’; like, that’s just unimaginative.” She took another step forward. “And lastly, who do you think you are? What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “You done?”

“No, I’m not, actually,” Amber snapped. “What’s your problem? Yeah, she’s a pain in the ass, do you think that gives you a right to insult her?”

“Girl, chill out, no one insulted her.”

"No, you just humiliated her and wanted everyone to know that you are oh so superior because you were able to align three words to insult a work in progress."

"Everyone? You do realise that no one is here, right?"

“Right, which is a shame because no one is here to see how absolutely pathetic you are, trashing a painting just so that you’ll feel better about your sorry self.” Andi blinked. Amber crossed her arms, staring the boy down. “Get out of here.”

The boy scoffed, turning around and leaving. “Whatever, psycho.”

“Right, I’m the psycho for defending my friend.” She turned sharply to Andi. “Not that we’re friends.”

Andi nodded, still stunned. “Noted.”

Amber didn’t uncross her arms until the boy was out of sight. “What a jerk.”

Andi swallowed, still staring at Amber. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to act. Bitchy Amber she knew how to deal with. An Amber who had her back… that was new.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she finally said. “Thank you.”

“No big deal. I’m the only one who’s allowed to mess with you like that.”

Andi let out a surprised laugh. “I’m strangely honored.”

“Good. You should be.”

There was a hesitant smile on Amber’s lips, mirroring Andi’s perfectly. Her eyes wouldn’t meet Andi’s for more than a few seconds at a time, altering between looking down and glancing at the mural behind her. She played with the strap of her purse, looking almost vulnerable. (That was impossible, though. Amber didn’t get vulnerable. Not in front of Andi, at least.)

“Well… I’m going to get going. Have fun with…” she gestured at the painting, “… art, and everything.”

“Thanks.”

Amber turned, before glancing back at Andi, her smile strangely comforting.

“Hey, don’t listen to him. Your painting is… not that bad.”

Andi felt something bubble in her chest. “Is that as close to a compliment that you can get?” she asked, her smile fonder and less cynical than usual.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“I’ll take it.”

Amber smiled again. “See you around, Andi.”

“See you.”

She couldn’t help but watch her leave, averting her eyes hastily when Amber looked back so that she wouldn’t catch her staring.

[theentiregdtime]

Can,,you write charlie and Mac just,,dancing,,and they kiss and it's cute and it's at night outside to stupid bad music and they end up on the roof watching

It's New Year's Eve in the K-Mart parking lot.

Well, it's New Year's Eve everywhere. It just so happens that Mac and Charlie are spending it in the K-Mart parking lot.

The store's been abandoned for a couple years now (from the looks of it, there was a fire), so the lot is always empty. It's a nice place to come to watch the fireworks.

There are other places, sure, but Dennis and Dee are out of town for the holiday, and neither of them wants to be at their own house right now. Their moms have different brands of bullshit going on, and none of it's easy to be around.

But it's easy when it's just the two of them. It's easy, lying on their backs on the asphalt, shoulders pressed together, the sky sparkling above them.

Mac's got his walkman going while he watches. He'd offered to share with Charlie, but he refused- said he really wanted to hear the explosions. A Dream Academy album he got from the thrift store is playing on loop, and he doesn't exactly know who they are, but it isn't bad. It's not very cool, but.. Mac likes a lot of music. He likes soothing, upbeat music he would never admit to liking out loud.

"Hey, Charlie?" he speaks softly, like it's okay if he doesn't get an answer, it's okay if the words drift into the cool air and up to the night sky.

But Charlie answers. "Yeah, man?"

Mac's eyes dart all over, trying to make out the stars past the glare of streetlights and pyrotechnics. His hands are folded over his chest where he drums his fingers against his parka.

Taxis are calling and the angels are falling down into the garden of truth...

He swallows and thinks about the past year. He thinks about the next one and the next one and the next one- wonders if he'll ever feel like he's truly in the right place and the right time, if he'll ever think yeah, this is where I belong. Mac wonders if his existence will ever be consummated. He wonders if he'll ever finish building himself so he can finally step back and see who he is when he's complete.

"What's your New Year's resolution?" he asks, and it's sort of like asking all of that.

Where two star-crossed lovers cut across one another...

Charlie shifts, wiggling his legs like a cricket and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. He seems confused by the question, or maybe suddenly aware of the fact that he's supposed to have goals. Mac hopes he hasn't ruined the moment of just being here. Sometimes he gets so anxious and he can't stop thinking about the future, about future Mac and future Charlie and if they're gonna be all right.

"Uh, I don't know. I sorta forgot to think of one." A couple of discount-store fireworks crackle in the distance and fizzle out. "I guess I'll figure it out when we get there."

Mac giggles and leans on his elbow, gawking down at Charlie. "Dude, it's in, like, ten minutes!"

Charlie shrugs.

"You gotta stop worrying, Mac. I make things up as I go." He turns his head to meet Mac's gaze. He smiles like he's totally at peace with who he is and who he's gonna be, like he just has faith- more than Mac does, and Mac is usually so good at faith. "We'll be fine."

We'll be fine, he repeats in his head.

Five years from now, they'll be fine- maybe they won't be in college like Dee and Dennis, maybe they'll still be kicking around abandoned parking lots and throwing rocks at cars, but they'll get by. Ten years from now, they'll be fine- they'll make enough money to stay afloat, they'll live off grilled cheese and wear the same socks for a week and skate around in them on the kitchen floor. Twenty years from now, they'll be fine- they'll be...

Well, Mac has no idea where they'll be twenty years from now. That seems like an eternity away. Hell, they'll be, like, almost forty. But he knows they'll be together and that's exactly the same as knowing they'll be okay.

Kiss me, he thinks he hears Charlie say.

Mac shakes his head, stunned, the ghost of a dreamy smile on his face. "What?"

"I said I can't see, man," Charlie whines. He cups Mac's cheek and nudges him out of the way.

He's focused on the old, ashen K-Mart building for some reason. Mac scoots up onto his butt and follows his line of sight, spotting some big, booming fireworks of the not-so-legal variety. He can barely make them out behind the building, and behind the trees on the other side of it.

"I bet that's cool," Charlie mumbles, and he can hear the disappointment in his voice.

There's no way they'll be able to see the show from the ground, and they don't exactly have any dirt mounds or fire escapes to view it from. But Mac doesn’t want to let Charlie down, so he’s gonna figure this out- he's gonna be the hero.

If they were at his house, they could sit on the roof or something, but...

He grins to himself as three more fireworks go off in rapid succession. He's got this.

Mac stuffs his walkman into his coat and springs up off the ground like a frog. Charlie's raising an eyebrow at him like he knows he's about to do something dumb. He's usually right, but not this time!

"Come on," Mac urges, offering a hand.

He chews his lip, looking skeptical at first, but taking it anyways. Mac hoists him up without any struggle (or at least, he pretends there isn't a struggle).

"Trust me."

He gives Charlie’s hand a squeeze and starts off across the parking lot, tugging him in tow like a Radio Flyer. He doesn't protest, aside from some surprised yelps when Mac pulls especially hard or swings him in one direction or another.

When they reach the building, Mac stops running, but doesn't let go. The two of them stand there, hand in hand, while he comes up with a plan. He needs to find a ladder. There's usually one on the side of these buildings. If there isn't, maybe there's at least a tall dumpster they can climb.

"Mac, we don't have to-"

They're off again before Mac processes that Charlie was even talking. Halfway down the wall, he spots a ladder with a round cage over it. He releases his grip and ducks under the steel, hopping until he can grab the bottom bar with his fingertips. It bruises down to his bones, but he's used to hurting himself, and it doesn't actually feel like he broke anything this time, so it's cool.

He climbs a few bars until he can get a foothold, then glances back over his shoulder.

"You comin'?"

Charlie seems hesitant, but still excited. He definitely wants to go through with it- sometimes he needs a little encouraging, is all.

"If we get to the top before midnight," Mac sing-songs, "I'll think of your resolution for you."

Charlie considers it for a bit, and he must figure it sounds like a pretty good deal, because he starts nodding to himself.

"All right," he agrees and crouches under the cage.

He's a little shorter, so he's probably gonna have trouble jumping up. Mac doesn't think he can assist him from his position, though, so he just eggs him on. A dare or a bet is usually enough to get Charlie to do whatever he wants.

"Last one up has to kiss Dee!" Mac snorts and starts his ascension.

"Hey, no fair!" he shrieks. "It's a ladder, Mac!" 

He can hear Charlie frantically leaping behind him, his sneakers landing on the ground over and over again with pathetic little thunks.

"See you at the top!"

When he reaches the roof, Mac throws his leg over and pulls himself up with his knee. He rolls in a very awesome way he knows makes him look like an action hero, then leans over the ledge to extend an arm.

"It's okay, dude," he chuckles, "you don't have to kiss Dee."

Charlie takes his hand and lets him hoist him up. Mac nearly pulls his shoulder muscle, and ends up having to use both arms to lift him.

It's not easy, but he makes it. They both make it. They'll always make it, no matter what.

They move to the center of the rooftop, looking out over the birches until one of the big, badass fireworks shoots up and blows to pieces. It's definitely worth the climb.

"Whoa," Mac breathes.

"Yeah," Charlie agrees, "whoa."

He reaches over to place a hand between Charlie's shoulder blades, and they stay like that for a long time, enjoying the fireworks show and each other's company. Mac knots his fingers into the back of Charlie's hoodie every time a sudden blast startles him, but receives no complaints.

"Can I see that?" Charlie asks, gesturing to Mac's walkman.

"Yeah." 

Mac nods, leaving it in his jacket but giving Charlie the headphones. He slides them over his messy hair and flashes a grin. It's loud enough that Mac can still mostly hear the song, but not too loud. All he can make out is a soft hey ma ma ma ma.

His hands drift to Charlie's chest, then to his sides, then suddenly they're flat on his waist. Charlie doesn't object, or even seem surprised. He winds his arms around Mac's neck and inches closer, and all at once they're dancing.

And it just feels natural. It feels like they could be on this same rooftop, having gone nowhere in life, five, ten, twenty years from now, and as long as they were together, it'd be okay. Mac feels at ease for the first time in a long time.

Then Charlie's pulling away.

"Wait," he says, and Mac thinks for a second that he might not want to dance, and it's like a nail through his chest.

But Charlie simply smiles and pulls the headphones down around his neck. Mac can hear the music better now.

Then they’re in position again, Charlie's hands on his shoulders and Mac's fingers playing with the belt loops on his jeans. The fireworks are still going off, but they aren't watching them, they're rocking back and forth and smiling and watching each other instead.

Life in a northern town echoes out of the walkman.

They dance like that long enough, swaying, clothes ruffling against one another's, that it occurs to Mac all at once they might be in the New Year.

"Oh, shit! What time is it?"

"I dunno," Charlie responds. "I thought you knew. Did we miss it?"

Mac can see himself in Charlie's eyes, and he looks more at peace than he thought he would. He wonders if he could look into them and see himself next year, and the next year, and the next year, until the end of time.

"Do you want to... pretend we didn't?" tumbles out of his mouth before he knows what he's saying.

Charlie stands up on his tip toes and squeezes Mac's coat, the polyester crinkling in his hand.

"Okay," he whispers back.

Then they're counting together, hardly loud enough to hear over the music.

"Ten... nine... eight..."

And though he'd never wave goodbye...

"Seven... six... five..."

You could see it written in his eyes...

"Four... three... two..."

As the train pulled out of sight...

Mac's not sure if he kisses Charlie or Charlie kisses him, but they're definitely kissing and oh my god. Charlie's scrunching his hands into Mac's jacket and Mac is sliding his palms over the small of Charlie's back. There are pins and needles making their way all down his arms, like everything in him is trembling, everything is on fire, fireworks are erupting in the night sky and underneath his skin at the same time. It feels like his entire body is falling asleep and it feels like waking up for the first time in forever. It feels like he's standing at the threshold of the next five years, ten years, twenty years of his life, and God hasn't told him explicitly, but he has a feeling it'll all work out just fine.

"Whoa," Charlie says when they pull apart, far enough to breathe but close enough to feel each other’s breath.

Mac knows he shouldn't have done that. He knows it was bad and he knows he'll have to say some prayers to make up for it tonight- or maybe he'll say them next year.

When Mac thinks about God, he's scared, and that's how he knows he loves him, but when he thinks about Charlie, he loves him, and that's how he knows he's not scared at all.

"Yeah," he echoes, "whoa."

Another cluster of explosions goes off and Charlie is suddenly distracted by them, still tight against Mac's chest, but with his wide eyes on the sky.

"So, uh... what's my resolution, Mac?" he asks as the song fades out.

Oh, yeah. He'd sort of forgotten about that.

"You know what? I think you were right before." Mac wraps an arm around Charlie's shoulders and they both turn to watch the fireworks. There's something in the embers raining down that says it's all right, it's going to be all right. "We'll figure it out when we get there."

They're only fifteen minutes in, but this year is pretty good already. Mac has a feeling the next one will be, too, and the next twenty, as long as he and Charlie are there together.