[ kate has faced supervillains, stared down psychopaths and killers, even called out captain america to his perfect supersoldier face. but turns out? true terror is staring at the thing you want most in the world, ready for you to take it, but all you can wonder is if your reverse midas touch won't fuck that up too.
(she'd joked with clint once, on the rare occasion they were both feeling like absolute shits, that it was a hawkeye curse. suddenly it's not so funny anymore.)
for a second there, kate almost does it. almost pulls back like she hadn't been barreling full speed ahead this whole time. it's a stupid reflex, to cower away from something too good, all because of one tiny voice that has no business being listened to in the first place.
peter wants her. and she wants him. he deserves the world, but she has to believe she can give him something close to that. right? otherwise what the fuck is she even doing, holding him like this, making him smile at her like that, daring to wish for more? ]
Really?
[ she grips his shirt with her free hand, grounds herself so she doesn't do something stupid like bolt. woman up, katie kate. you absolute disaster. ]
Me too.
[ and she is. she's young and stupid and so, so out of her depth when it comes to this stuff but he's been so patient. so good. if she has to spend the next however long to be just as good back, so be it. (but god she hopes it doesn't take that long.)
what else is there to do now but kiss him again? kiss him like she means it, surging forward to bruise his lips red and raw. it's relief and excitement and that sun-bursting warm she always feels when she kisses him, the kind that's hard to stop so she doesn't.
of course, just as she starts to roll them over, pull him on top of her so she can feel surrounded by his weight and his scent — the buzzer buzzes. pizza's here. ]
no subject
(she'd joked with clint once, on the rare occasion they were both feeling like absolute shits, that it was a hawkeye curse. suddenly it's not so funny anymore.)
for a second there, kate almost does it. almost pulls back like she hadn't been barreling full speed ahead this whole time. it's a stupid reflex, to cower away from something too good, all because of one tiny voice that has no business being listened to in the first place.
peter wants her. and she wants him. he deserves the world, but she has to believe she can give him something close to that. right? otherwise what the fuck is she even doing, holding him like this, making him smile at her like that, daring to wish for more? ]
Really?
[ she grips his shirt with her free hand, grounds herself so she doesn't do something stupid like bolt. woman up, katie kate. you absolute disaster. ]
Me too.
[ and she is. she's young and stupid and so, so out of her depth when it comes to this stuff but he's been so patient. so good. if she has to spend the next however long to be just as good back, so be it. (but god she hopes it doesn't take that long.)
what else is there to do now but kiss him again? kiss him like she means it, surging forward to bruise his lips red and raw. it's relief and excitement and that sun-bursting warm she always feels when she kisses him, the kind that's hard to stop so she doesn't.
of course, just as she starts to roll them over, pull him on top of her so she can feel surrounded by his weight and his scent — the buzzer buzzes. pizza's here. ]
...We've got to work on your timing, Parker.