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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years

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Daring - Chapter 2

This is part two of my Abby Mordern!Au, you can read Chapter 1 here.

Masterlist

Abby and the reader have dinner at Abby's place. There is music playing and referenced, so I'd recommend you listen to this playlist with all the songs playing in order as soon as the date night begins. About 10k words.

CW for alcohol consumption, mention of death/murder, mention of dubious consent (and possibly terrible grammar. It's 10pm, I just finished this, I don't have a proofreader atm)

Thyme and Tree Bark

“Don’t mess this up, airhead. Take care!”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot!”

You closed the door behind Mark as he vanished down the stairs and headed straight for your bed. Though you were less wobbly on your feet after devouring half of a perfectly cheesy pizza with just the right amount of jalapenos, it had thrown you straight into a food coma. Your angel of a brother had come over at noon with two chilled cans of coke and a large pizza from your favorite Italian place and not even ripped open the curtains as he usually did. Instead, he had thrown himself on the bed right next to you, handed you a slice, and demanded you start talking.

Of course, he already knew about Abby and your embarrassing shyness when it came to the buff blonde, so he was extremely proud of the progress you had made with your excruciating crush. You both agreed that Abby had definitely invited you over for a date this week - alone, without Manny there - and that it had to mean she was interested, too. He had laughed about the little bar stint when Abby had shut down your flirt with the hot waitress in an instant and was now 100% sure this was going to go great. As long as you kept it together and didn’t ruin everything. As you often did. This needed some tactical planning.

Mouths full of cheesy delight and laughing at each other’s stupid ideas, you and your brother had come up with a fairly foolproof plan. You would text Abby in 1-2 days, keeping it cool and asking when you should come over. Then, you would suggest making cocktails at home, already granting a fun activity and something to loosen the mood. You would keep it casual and bring over some nice liquor and maybe a bag of chips, perfect for watching a movie. You’d try to keep the conversation casual and try to speak mostly about Abby, asking lots of questions so you didn’t get tangled up in speaking about yourself. If you steered the conversation toward movies, you could watch something exciting and maybe even scary together so you could cuddle up on the couch together. And well, if you got that far, things would probably fall into place naturally. Foolproof. Y/N-proof.

You groaned as you reached over to grab your phone from your nightstand. You had a message from your mom asking if you wanted to come over for dinner next weekend and an email from your professor who wanted to submit your last essay to some kind of grant application. You’d have to answer her later, your head still felt like it was filled with cotton. Instead, you sent Leah a message.

-Hey, you still alive? There’s leftover pizza and coke over here.

Five seconds later, there was a delighted squeal at the other side of the wall and you heard the click of your roommate’s door before yours opened and Leah tiptoe-danced inside, beaming at you. She was wearing nothing but an extremely tight-fitting cropped wifebeater and a khaki thong, accentuating her long legs as she leaped right onto your bed and almost made you fly as her weight hit the mattress. You tried not to stare at her perfectly toned abs as she opened the gigantic carton and held up a slice of pizza over her head, letting the tip dangle in her mouth before biting down with a moan that made you snort awkwardly.

“Good morning, you animal.”

Leah just moaned again, making a grabbing motion with her hand and pointing toward the second can of coke on your nightstand. You laughed silently as you handed her the cold can, condensed water running down the sides and wetting your fingers. You wiped them on the blanket. The tall brunette swallowed hard and took a sip of coke.

“Good morning, womanizer.” She grinned widely. “I’m so proud of you, man. This is the first time I’ve seen you in action and I can safely say Abby was just as surprised as I was.”

You buried your face in your hands.

“Oh god, was I that obvious? Did I do anything inappropriate? I thought it went well, but now I’m not so sure.” You spread your fingers to peak at your roommate who was currently chewing on a ginormous bite, tomato juice running down her chin. No manners, that girl. She just shook her head and made a noise somewhere between protest and encouragement.

“No, you were fine,” she said with a full mouth, “very tipsy, but cute. I hope you remember Abby inviting you to her place.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You ran your fingers through your hair, immediately getting stuck in a tangle of knots. God, you needed a shower.

“Yeah, I already went over it with Mark. We made a plan so I won’t embarrass myself.”

“Good. I hope it goes well, you two would be cute together. Hot, even. I mean, no one can deny the allure of those biceps. And her ass?! Godly.” She easily evaded the kick you aimed at her ribs, laughing and slapping your shin away.

“Come on, let’s not act like you’re not ogling her every chance you get. I am, too - the woman looks like a greek goddess!”

“That’s enough,” you giggled, aiming another playful kick in her direction but only lightly hitting her in the thigh. “I know what she looks like.”

“Right. And soon, you’ll hopefully see a lot more of her.” This time, Leah jumped off the bed before your toes could sink right into her side. You tried to suppress a grin as you two stared at each other for a moment before Leah sat back down cross-legged and began eating the last slice of pizza.

“I mean,” she said casually, “you have seen more of a woman before, right?”

You grabbed your coke and turned it in your hands before answering.

“Yeah, I have. It wasn’t… It wasn’t all that, though. Just one time and we were both so nervous it was just awkward.”

Now Leah looked at you with a mixture of shock and pity.

“Come on, Y/N. Only once? You’ve never seen stars because of a woman’s tongue? Never screamed into a pillow because of some skilled sapphic strap game? Never lost your mi-”

“Leaahhhh!” You groaned, feeling blood shoot into your cheeks. “No, okay? I… I made the other girl cum, but for me, it was just… it was too unfamiliar and I didn’t know her well enough to really let myself enjoy it.”

Suddenly a thought crossed your mind and you felt your eyes open wide.

“Wait. Has Abby…? Is she..?”

Leah paused mid-bite and thought for a second.

“Well, she does have experience with men, obviously. As far as women go… I honestly don’t know. She’s dated a few, but it never went longer than a couple of weeks. I don’t know how fast things go with her and she’s never gone into detail with me. I have to ask Nora about that.”

“Don’t you dare! She’ll know this is about me and tell Abby!”

“Oh come on, I’m interested, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you so you know what to prepare for, win-win!” She nudged your foot and gave you a mischievous half-smile.

“For god’s sake, do what you must.” You finished your coke and threw it perfectly into the bin beside your desk. Leah gave you an impressed nod. “And now I desperately need a shower. There is a literal nest on top of my head.”

“True,” Leah said and stood up, stretching her limbs as she walked to the door. “Thanks for the pizza. I’m gonna ask Jordan if he wants to come over, so don’t walk out naked if you don’t want a threesome.” She winked at you before closing the door, but a small part at the back of your brain knew that she wasn’t completely joking. You sighed and swung your legs off your bed. No point in lying around, it was past 3 pm anyway.

Grabbing your phone, a shirt, and some clean boxers, you headed for the bathroom. You took your time showering, detangling the mess on your head with lots of conditioner, humming along to Marika Hackman’s cover of I Follow Rivers as you stood under the hot stream of water and brushing your teeth for at least five minutes while waiting for a hair mask to do its magic. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was filled with hot steam and you felt like a whole new person. You slipped into your fresh clothes and held the blow dryer to the mirror until your reflection was clear.

So. Here you were. Finally, you had spoken to the woman of your dreams and even flirted with her. She may have even been jealous of your short conversation with Ellie, the bartender. Tomorrow, you would text her, you would be brave and cool and not at all awkward. As you collected your clothes off the floor and took your phone, you suddenly realized something that would destroy your entire plan. You didn’t even have Abby’s phone number. Why hadn’t you asked her? Of course, you could ask Leah for it, but Abby would know because she knew she hadn’t given it to you. It would be a lot less cool and casual. Fuck.

You stepped into the hallway and ran straight into Jordan. Perfect. Good thing Leah had warned you.

“Oh, hi Y/N! You doing alright after all those tequila shots?” Jordan’s face was open and kind. You immediately relaxed. Just a guy, not a threat.

“Better than I thought I would, actually. What about you?”

“Well, I sent them back out the way they came as soon as I got home.” He grimaced and shrugged. “Just glad I’m still alive, to be honest.”

You had to laugh. “I’m glad, too. Leah would have been devastated.”

“I hope so.” He grinned back. The silence between you stretched a little bit too long.

“Anyways, I’m gonna see what she’s up to. See you later?”

“Yeah, sure!” You said, relieved that he didn’t make it awkward. You quickly slipped into your room and sank down on the bed, composing a text to Mark.

-Minor hiccup - I don’t have her number.

His reply came immediately.

-Shit. What now?

You let yourself fall back on the mattress and covered your face with your arm. Your phone vibrated again and you lifted it up, hoping for a brilliant idea.

-Hey, this is Abby. Are we still on for next week?

You almost dropped your phone on your face. For a minute, you just stared at the message. Then you rolled over onto your stomach and screamed into your pillow.

-Hi Abby. We absolutely are. Y/N.

You tried to suppress a fit of giggles as you texted your brother.

-Nvm, she just texted me.

-Omg what!! Play it cool, don’t answer yet. What did she say???

-Oops already answered. Still on for next week.

-Incredibly casual lol. Whatever, good for you!

-Shut up!

Another text by Abby came in and you actually started drumming your feet on the bed with excitement.

-Tuesday? I could cook for us

-Very impressive, I’ll bite. What time should I come over?

-Very clever. 6pm? Any allergies?

-Vegetarian, hope that’s okay. 6 is great, text me your address?

You watched the little text bubble pop up and vanish again for a good minute, getting more and more nervous for her answer.

- No problem. 2425 Constance.

There was nothing else to do but scream into your pillow again.

The next two days went excruciatingly slow. You spent the rest of your Sunday in bed, watching a terrible zombie movie and later ordering curry because you couldn’t be bothered with preparing any food. As it got late, you suddenly heard a knock on the wall. At first, you thought it was accidental, until the knocking started to continue in a steady rhythm. With a death glare that you hoped would reach through the concrete, you plugged your headphones into your laptop and continued watching your movie.

On Monday, you threw yourself into art history coursework and caught up on your studies, emailed your professor, and spent three hours on an essay about the depiction of blood in paintings of Judith beheading Holofernes. Lovely subject. Even though you got through a lot of your tasks for the day, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at your phone every 10 minutes to see if you had missed a message. Of course, nothing came up. Around 4 pm, your phone buzzed and you leapt for it only to find out it was Leah asking you to buy toilet paper later. At 6pm, you shut off your laptop and grabbed your backpack to go grocery shopping.

Standing in the liquor store you realized you hadn’t asked Abby about cocktails.

“Looking for something in particular?” the elderly lady behind the counter asked. It seemed to be her own shop and to have been hers for a while, judging by the elegant wooden shelves and the warm, nice feeling of the room instead of neon lights and rows of white metal.

“Uh, yeah, actually. I have a date tomorrow and I thought we could make cocktails, but I forgot to ask what she likes. So now I don’t know what to bring.” You gave her an apologetic half smile. She stood up from her seat behind the register, growing not even 2 inches standing compared to sitting and made her way over to you. Her eyes twinkled behind thick glasses that made her look a little bit like an owl.

“Well, dear. I don’t know if I would go straight into the hard liquor on a first date. On my last first date, we had a delicious red wine, a Merlot. Couldn’t that be something? Are you going to eat anything?”

“Oh yes, she said she’d cook for us, but I don’t know what exactly.”

The shop owner gently put a hand on your arm and guided you to a shelf of dark bottles.

“Well, Merlot goes well with any food, so I think it would be perfect. Cocktails come later, when you dress up and go out together or after a night of theater.” You felt a surge of warmth spread through your chest. Theater? Well, why not? For a second, you began to trail off, imagining Abby in a perfectly tailored suit, you at her arm just as dressed up, every head turning as you entered the room and ordered Gin Tonics at the bar during the break. The voice next to you pulled you back to the present.

“If you’re cooking at home, wine is the thing to bring, trust me.”

“I trust you,” you said with a smile as you took the bottle she handed you. The label was a creamy white, with beautiful golden letters. Hopefully this wouldn’t bankrupt you. “Thank you for your help.”

The shopkeeper sat back down in her chair with a sigh and typed into the cash register. 15.99$. That wasn’t so bad. You paid and gently put the bottle inside your backpack.

“You know, you should come by soon and let me know how it went. I think that Merlot will bring you good luck. My wife and I still have it every Sunday.” Your head snapped up and your eyes met that charming, smart twinkle again, flashing at you out of dark brown irises. For a moment, all of the things you wanted to say were stuck in your throat, then you just broke into a smile.

“That’s wonderful, ma’am. I hope I can have that, in the future.”

“Of course you will, dear.” She really sounded like she meant it. A small lump suddenly appeared in your throat.

“Thank you so much. I wish you all the best.”

“Go get her!”

You laughed and waved at her again as you exited the shop, taking the warmth and comfort of it with you and tucking it right beneath the bottom of your heart and the top of your stomach where you knew it would fuel you for a few days. You had already decided that you would come back and make it your mission to befriend that old lady. What a wonderful woman.

Only 23 hours to go. That night, it was almost impossible to fall asleep.

You got through the next day by once again banning any thought of the evening from your mind and diving head first into your assignments. You were going to lead a discussion on different planes of language or communications in women’s art and literature and reading up on the historical differences between male and female narratives, beginning with the ancient poet Sappho. It was an exciting topic, something you were extremely thankful for. Otherwise you might have been looking at your phone every 3 minutes instead of every 20. Of course, no message from Abby.

The bottle of wine was standing on your nightstand, reminding you of your plans with an exciting tingle in your stomach. At 4pm, you gave up on doing anything productive. You spent forever in the shower, stealing some of Leah’s expensive pink body scrub, shaving everywhere and regretting it immediately because you felt stupid for assuming anything, entertaining the but what if thoughts while you thoroughly lathered your entire body in Leah’s shampoo and shower gel and spending a good 10 minutes just standing under the hot water because you weren’t ready to leave that fantasy yet. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was an actual steam bath and you could hardly see the door through the thick waves of wonderfully scented fog. You took your time stealing some more of Leah’s skincare products, having come to the conclusion that if she noticed anything and scolded you for it, you might as well try out the whole arsenal.

When you finally opened your closet door, feeling luxurious and clean and fresh, it was 5.10pm. What the hell were you going to wear? You and Mark had agreed on casual, but what the hell did that even mean? You decided to ask him.

-Help!!! Freaking out over my outfit, need a definition for casual

-Jeans and T-Shirt, just your standard outfit. Imagine meeting me for sushi.

-I’m bringing red wine. It seems wrong to bring wine in jeans and a t-shirt..

-What happened to cocktails?? Trust me, keep it simple. You don’t wanna turn up in a dress and she opens the door in sweatpants.

-I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in sweatpants. Ughh fuck I don’t have time for this. Jeans and t-shirt it is. Lesbian grandma recommended wine, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow x

-Go get her x

You quickly slipped into some black jeans that were just the right amount of tightly fitting around your ass and a white shirt with a tiny pomegranate embroidered on the front. Then you put on your jacket and quickly threw your wallet, phone and keys into a tote before grabbing the wine and putting it in as well. With a last look into the hallway mirror and a yelled goodbye to Leah, you rushed out of your apartment.

The evening air was not as cool as you had expected and the sun was just about to set. On your way to the train station, you typed out an on my way! message to Abby and quickly deleted it again. No sense in sending it now when you hadn’t spoken since Sunday and were about to see her. The train ride was annoying, the wagon stuffed with commuters and some guy trying to convince you the apocalypse was upon you all. Zombies, not the last judgement - something different at least.

During the walk from the station to Abby’s house, you were sure it wouldn’t take much more for you to actually start levitating. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your throat was so cramped up it was hard to breathe. When you pulled out your phone, your fingers were actually shaking. Jesus Christ, get a grip. 5.58 pm.

And there it was, 2425 Constance. Just a normal suburban white house, like any other in the street. It actually seemed a bit weird, Manny and Abby living here in the midst of what seemed to be a family neighborhood with real adults . Then again, they both weren’t in college, so you supposed they actually were real adults. When you walked up to the front door, you could hear faint music from inside - jazz? You wouldn’t have guessed she was the jazz type, but then again you knew almost nothing about her. Right. Ask questions, keep the conversation about her. Be cool.

You knocked.

Abby opened the door, a wave of warm air hitting you from inside. It smelled delightful. Her face was slightly flushed, her lips parted as she took in a deep breath. She had tied her hair back in a low bun, but a few strands had fallen out and framed her face. One was standing up in a funny angle.

“Hi, Abby,” you said, trying to keep your voice level and not stare at her body. Fuck, she had dressed up. And she looked hot.

“Hi!” A smile slowly grew wide on her face. When she realized that she was blocking the door, she quickly shook her head and stepped aside. “Come in! Can I take your jacket?”

Oh God, this was hopeless. You already knew you were hers. Thanking her, you took off your jacket and she hung it in a closet next to the entrance. When she turned around, you got a chance to admire her fully. She wore wide dress pants that perfectly accentuated all of her muscles, topped with a loose white shirt with wide sleeves, reminding you a little bit of a pirate. Her jewelry rounded off the pirate look and you had to bite back a grin. She raised her eyebrows at you.

“What?” Her cheeks were still slightly red, but you attributed it to standing in a hot kitchen for probably the last hour, judging by the variety of smells overlapping and mixing together, already making your mouth water.

“Uh, I brought wine,” you said and held out the bottle. Eloquent as always. Abby took it and whistled through her teeth as she inspected the label.

“That looks classic. The sauce I made has some wine in it as well, this is perfect. Thank you, what a great idea!”

You were overwhelmed with her generous praise and didn’t know where to look, so you settled on her hands. You had always sneaked looks at her hands, at the way she held a glass or drummed on a table or clasped them when she was intently listening to someone. They looked strong and rough from work, but there was also a delicacy in their movement and you were sure her touch could be as gentle as the brush of a hummingbird flying past. Realizing you were staring, you tore your gaze away.

“It smells delicious in here, I can’t wait to see what you cooked.” You followed her into the kitchen, where she placed the bottle on the counter and took a corkscrew from a drawer. A big red pot was standing on the gas stove over a tiny flame, the lid still hiding its contents. Your stomach suddenly growled loudly into the silence.

“Someone’s hungry.” Abby gave you a side glance and an amused smirk as she screwed the silver device into the cork. “Everything’s already set, we can get started right away.”

You covered your eyes with your hand for a second before laughing.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot to have lunch earlier and then I figured I’d just wait so I could really savour this.”

“Smart thinking. I made patates au vin , a vegetarian version of coq au vin which is chicken in wine. It’s basically potatoes and vegetables in a thick brown sauce, served with some good rustic bread.” You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the thought of getting to eat home cooked french cuisine made by Abby in a few minutes.

“Oh my God, say that again.” You could barely stop yourself from moaning. Abby laughed and opened the wine with a loud pop.

“Here, take this over to the dinner table. I’m right behind you.” You took the bottle and followed her nod into the dining room. The wooden table was beautifully set with big and small plates, glasses for water and wine, candles, two blue glass bottles of water and a bowl of salad topped with what looked like apples, pomegranate seeds and feta cheese. You carefully placed the bottle of wine next to the water bottles and stepped aside for Abby, who came out of the kitchen carrying the heavy pot and placed it on a cork coaster in the middle of the table.

“Wait, let me just…” she trailed off as she grabbed her phone from the sideboard and changed the music. A saxophone led a jazz band into the song before a beautiful female voice set in, soft as butter and filling the room like the smell of roses. The voice was familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. As Abby sat down, the music came to a crescendo before breaking off, the voice setting in again with a soft

is it a crime?

“Who sings this?” you asked as Abby opened the water bottle and filled your glasses.

“Oh, it’s Sade. She was my dad’s favorite.”

And I want you to want me too, the woman sang, and your eyes met over the table. You swallowed. Was? Not the right time.

“Sade? Oh, she sings Smooth Operator, right? I know that one, but I never checked out more of her music.”

Abby smiled at you and opened the lid of the pot.

“Yeah. This is the Promise album, my favorite. She is a force.”

A wave of steam erupted from the pot and you bent forward to look inside. Thick, roasted wedges of yellow potatoes lay in a bed of orange and purple carrots, mushrooms and tomatoes in a thick brown sauce, a stalk of thyme on top and a bay leaf poking out from the sauce. You weren’t sure if you were drooling, but you didn’t care.

“Abby, oh my God! This is fantastic.”

A spark had lit in her eyes when she heard you say her name. She elegantly stood up again, grabbed a serving spoon, and held out her hand for your plate. You watched her hands again as she plated an array of vegetables for you and used the spoon to draw a little sauce heart on the rim of the plate. Your ribs felt two sizes too small around your chest. This woman was actually going to be the death of you.

“Thanks,” you quietly said and waited as Abby helped herself to a plate. She sat down and gestured toward the small basket with thick slices of grey bread with a dark brown crust.

“Help yourself. Bon appétit.”

After a few moments of eating in comfortable silence before you showered the blonde in an array of compliments, this time not able to refrain from moaning when you bit into a tender, sweet purple carrot, the conversation began to flow. Abby complimented the wine, you talked about your studies, Abby told a few work stories in which both she and Nora were involved, you told her about your close relationship with your brother and she bittersweetly reminisced about her upbringing as an only child with a single dad. It had just been the two of them, moving frequently because of his changing jobs in different hospitals. He had been a neurosurgeon, and a brilliant one at that, but always humble and ready to help wherever he could. Abby sat up straighter when she talked about him, her chest actually swelling with pride when she told you about one time they had rescued an injured horse that had run away and been hit by a car in front of them.

“I think I was 16 back then. It’s one of my favorite memories of him. It actually wasn’t long before…” Her eyebrows moved into a frown and she bit her lip, pushing a small piece of onion around her plate. Fuck, maybe it would have been easier to talk about you, after all.

“We don’t have to talk about it. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

She looked up and you expected to see tears, but her eyes were full of love and her face smoothed out into a gentle smile.

“No, it’s okay. I’m still working on it, and part of my therapy is telling people who don’t know yet. You know, I don’t really have a lot of friends.” She suddenly laughed, easing the tension at the bottom of your lungs. “That sounds stupid, of course I do. I have Manny and Nora and Leah and Jordan and Owen, I guess. But the thing is, they all knew me before. I haven’t really made friends ever since my dad.. passed away. The idea of needing to open up to someone about all this so I can develop a real connection and friendship with them is just a lot to bear.”

“The mortifying ordeal of being known,” you mumbled, more to yourself, crumpling up your napkin in one hand.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, it’s this quote from a New York Times article that has been floating around the internet for a while. ‘If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known’.” You looked up at her and inhaled deeply. “It’s something I’m also terrified of. Although it seems kind of stupid sometimes, because compared to you for example, I don’t really have a good reason.”

Abby looks at you like she’s just discovered something extremely interesting. She takes a sip of her wine before answering, her silver rings blinking at you in the candlelight.

“It’s not at all stupid. I’ve always been very careful with who I open up to, even before my dad died. It’s horrifying, laying yourself bare for a person, putting yourself on a silver plate and handing it to them and saying there, now do with it what you wish. Maybe they’ll look at it and say no, thanks. Maybe they’ll call everyone and say hey, look at this mad woman with her twisted insides, isn’t that funny? Maybe they’ll see it and think, I can do this, and then after a few years they suddenly realize they actually can’t and you’re way too much and so they leave for someone with a more simple, prettier silver plate. Maybe they’ll even take a few pieces with them as they go.”

She didn’t sound bitter as she said it, and she didn’t look terribly sad either, more as if she was making an observation about something she was mildly interested in. You didn’t know what to say except for show me your silver plate, please show me your all, and I will devour it, savor it, keep it with me forever. But you stayed silent, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“I’m quite the handful, am I? Sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown all this” - she gestured toward herself - “at you during our first date.” Then her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Fuck, sorry, I just assumed… you probably don’t…”

Finally, movement came back into you. You jumped from your chair and were next to her in a few paces. She lifted a hand and you took it in yours.

“Of course this is a date,” you said gently and smiled at her. “Otherwise why would I have been this nervous for the past three days, thinking of nothing but you, constantly checking my phone to see if you texted me? And I brought red wine, come on.” That brought a smile to her face. She chuckled lightly.

“So I haven’t just ruined everything?” The hope in her eyes was mixed with real, honest fear.

“No, of course not. I’m glad you’re being open with me. You know, I planned not to reveal too much about myself tonight, fearing I would scare you away or say something stupid and make you suddenly lose interest.”

The current song ended and a soft, funky beat came on. There it was again, that twinkle in Abby’s eyes. Your hands were still clasped around hers and she made no move to pull back.

“Well, now I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me. Lay it on me. Over dessert, maybe?”

You raised your eyebrows.

“There’s dessert? You’re going to have to roll me out of here later.”

She laughed, warm and genuine, and the pride you had felt back in The Closet filled your chest again. You would do anything just to be the one to make her laugh every day for the rest of your life. She got up and you both started clearing the table together.

Never going to know

What fate is going to blow

Your way, just hope that it feels right

Could that Sade lady be any more on the nose? You risked a glance at Abby, who was smiling to herself. You followed her into the kitchen and she opened the fridge to produce a large glass dish, showing the several layers of biscuit and white cream, topped with dark cacao.

“Tiramisu? Seriously Abby, how much time did you spend in the kitchen today?”

She gave you a crooked grin before exiting the kitchen.

“Took the day off.”

You just sighed and went back into the dining room.

Such a fine time as this

“Here.” Abby handed you a small plate with a piece of her gourmet tiramisu. Your fingers brushed against each other and you both paused for just the blink of an eye.

What could equal the bliss

The thrill of the first kiss

You sat down and grabbed the small fork left next to your wine glass. On second thought, you took another sip of Merlot. It really was exquisite.

“Buon’ appetito,” you said and sliced off a perfect edge of tiramisu. The soft, coffee-drenched biscuit fell apart on your tongue, mixing with the heavy vanilla-flavored mascarpone. “Did you know where the name tiramisu comes from?”

Abby lifted her fork to her mouth and softly closed her lips around the piece of creamy dessert. You were entranced, watching her hand sink down to the table again, then her jaw moving and flexing as she chewed. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and you cleared your throat, taking another piece on your fork.

“ Tira mi su is Italian for ‘pull me down’. It’s the last thing you eat after dinner and the thing that makes you tired, pulls you right into the food coma. In restaurants, it rounds off the meal and guests will probably leave in the following hour because they feel they’re ready to go home.”

Never as good as the first time

Natural as the way we came to be

“Oh,” Abby said, her voice quiet. She looked up at you through dark lashes. “And are you going home after this?”

“No.” You said it without thinking, only knowing what was true in your heart. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m glad.” Taking a deep breath, Abby straightened up, then reached a hand across the table, her palm facing up. You stared at it for a fraction of a second before placing your hand in hers, feeling something fall into place inside you. The glances you exchanged said so much more than you could possibly dare to say out loud right now.

You used your free hand to stab the last piece of tiramisu. This time it was Abby who was watching you with hungry eyes as the fork vanished between your lips and emerged clean.

“This tiramisu could be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life,” you said after swallowing and Abby’s fingers twitched ever so slightly around your hand.

“Thank you. I’m really into French and Italian cuisine, as you may have noticed.”

You leaned back in your chair, careful not to pull back your hand.

“I couldn’t do it, honestly. Spending so much time in the kitchen. Especially not with a job like yours, on your feet all day. I’d probably survive off of pasta and takeout.”

Abby smiled and began slowly drawing circles on the back of your hand with her thumb. You were already hyper-aware of how your blood rushed through every vein of your body, a side-effect of the red wine, but now it came to a roar in your ears.

“I guess I need some kind of hobby besides lifting weights. It calms me down. And it’s not just about the end result, about getting to eat something, but also about picking the right ingredients, taking my time cutting them up, trying new recipes with new flavors, and learning more about food and culture, and honestly about myself. It’s like meditating.”

“That sounds…” you were at a loss for words, “unbelievable? I’ve never heard someone talk about cooking like that. And I’ve never felt that way about it, too. I guess I’d like to, though. It sounds nice.”

Abby brushed her thumb over your knuckles.

“Well, I could show you.” You tilted your head slightly. “I mean, we could cook together. Next time. If you want to?”

Sade’s voice, smooth as polished wood and dripping with honey cut into the moment.

How could I have doubted

Honey, it's with me that you belong

“Yeah, I’d love to. What do you have in mind?”

“Do you like lasagna? We could make a vegetable lasagna and substitute the meat for soy. I could show you how to make a béchamel.”

You laughed and squeezed her hand.

“I love lasagna, although I have no idea what a beshmel is.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Abby’s face was glowing with happiness.

As the last two songs of the album played, you helped Abby clean up the table. You got into an argument about doing the dishes - Abby said she’d do it later but you insisted you would do them now or at least help because so far you had not lifted a finger.

“Come on, Abby, please let me help?” You tried your best doe eyes at her. She grinned and playfully slapped your upper arm.

“Okay. But I’ll put on different music.”

She vanished to the dining room while you began filling the sink with water. A high note filled the room before a man spoke.

You broke my heart / 'Cause I couldn't dance

You didn't even want me around

And now I'm back / To let you know

I can really shake 'em down

Abby stepped into your field of vision. The music set in, a delightful 60’s rock and roll melody, and Abby began dancing toward you with tiny steps and shaking shoulders. She was lip synching to the coarse voice of the singer and reaching out her hands for you. Snapping out of your frozen position, you shook your head, grabbed her hands, and were immediately twirled through the kitchen. A squeak escaped you as Abby pulled you back toward her and with another pirouette, you almost slammed into her chest. You both laughed out loud, continuing to dance through the kitchen with big, overexaggerated moves, flailing your arms and shuffling your feet across the tile.

I can do the twist

Now, tell me baby

Do you like it like this?

You quickly began singing along to the simple lyrics and both of you were giggling at each other’s dance moves. The next song was Stand By Me and you both settled down, beginning to clean the pots and dishes. You did the washing while Abby dried off the pieces you gave her and put them back into the right cupboards. Both of you were swaying and humming along to the music.

During the second chorus, both of you began belting along, filling the kitchen with the wonderfully familiar sound of slightly drunk women singing together. As the song ended, you both comically froze and waited for the next song to set in. When it was La Bamba by Ritchie Valens, you both continued singing along and showing off some probably terrible salsa moves. You were done in no time and Abby took your hand, pulling you into the dining room and sliding across the wooden floors with you. Your stomach hurt from laughing and you couldn’t stop smiling.

Next came the bittersweet Be My Baby by the Ronettes, a song you remembered from your childhood, vague memories of your parents slow dancing together after another terrible fight. You swallowed down the hint of bitterness creeping up from your stomach. Instead, you looked up at Abby, almost a full head taller than you, and dared yourself to step forward. You placed your right hand in Abby’s and your left on her tricep, coming unbearably and exhilaratingly close. Abby put her hand on your back, right below your shoulder blade, warming you through the fabric of your shirt. Your faces were incredibly close, her breath warm on your nose, and you could have counted every single freckle on her beautiful face. There was a slim ring of gold around her pupil, complimenting the green of her iris. She was breathtaking.

You couldn’t take this any longer. Should you kiss her? Everything inside you wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close the last inch of distance. It felt like wanting to do a handstand but pulling back at the last second every time because of a deep fear of failing and hurting yourself. It was terribly frustrating.

Instead, you leaned your head against the round muscle of Abby’s shoulder, turning your face toward her chest and pressing your temple to her collarbone. You could smell the herbs she had used to cook earlier in the fabric of her shirt, but her skin smelled like pine and something else, earthy and dark, like tree bark or wool. Abby rested her chin against your forehead and her low hum of contentment vibrated against your cheek.

A light waltz melody began, Unchained Melody, a song you knew from some commercial and had listened to for a few weeks straight after.

I need your love

God speed your love to me

You smiled to yourself and could sense Abby was doing the same. You kept slowly turning, dancing through the candle-lit room and swaying side to side. The band set in louder and you lifted your head again. Abby’s eyes were fixed to yours, but you couldn’t stop yours from wandering lower, finding those perfectly pink lips, hanging open ever so slightly. Your hand wandered upward, along her shoulder, and to the back of her neck. As the last verse of the song began, you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against her. Abby inhaled sharply, her fingers spreading on your back and pressing against your skin. You gently pressed your lips to hers again and this time, she kissed you back. You dug your fingertips into the back of her neck, desperately wanting to come closer, to pull her down to you, hell, you would climb her like a tree if you had to.

Feeling courageous, you stuck your tongue out and ran the tip upward over her lips. Abby instantly reacted, opening her mouth for you and greeting your tongue with hers. She tasted like wine and cacao, and faintly like thyme. Releasing your hand, she wrapped her arms around your waist. You reached up and buried your hand in her hair. She gasped into your mouth. You tucked that sound away for later, swearing to yourself you would make her do it again as often as you could.

A few seconds of silence between songs were disrupted by your wonderfully frivolous wet kissing sounds and a small whine that escaped you when Abby’s hand wandered lower to cup your ass. The first guitar chords of Nights In White Satin vibrated through the air and Abby grabbed you tightly before lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs around her hips. She carried you over to the dining table and set you down.

The dramatic crescendo in the song you loved so much began.

And I love you

Yes I love you

Oh, how I love you

The singer’s voice filled every corner of the room, his declaration hovering above you, the high voices of the background singers ringing in your ears and Abby’s hands everywhere, her body leaning over you, her hips pressed between your legs. You flexed your legs to pull her in closer, almost falling apart when Abby let out a low moan and rocked her hips forward against you. Then she suddenly slowed down and broke the kiss.

“Wait, let’s talk for a second.”

You kept your legs clamped around her, but relaxed back a little, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead and giving her an encouraging nod to go ahead.

“I haven’t… I’m not that experienced with - with women. And generally. And I don’t want to rush things and do something wrong and lose you. I don’t really know how this works and I want to do it right.”

Her hands on your waist tightened slightly. You gave her a shy smile.

“Me neither. I’m scared, too.” You surprised yourself with your openness. “How about we take this slow, then? Talk about everything openly? And just go one step at a time?”

Abby nodded and pulled you closer again.

Holding Back The Years began playing.

“One kiss at a time.” She gave you a gentle peck on the lips.

“Oh, really? I would have never picked you as the sappy type,” you laughed against her lips.

“You wouldn’t?” She acted shocked. “Let me remind you of how I took the day off to cook a gourmet french dish for you.”

“True.” You shrugged and pulled her in for another kiss. “It’s probably the muscles. With those guns, you can do anything and still be taken seriously.”

Abby snorted and you realized that had been the wine talking. For a second, you were mortified, then she scooped you up again, holding your body with one arm as she ran her free hand through your hair.

“Oh, those? You know, they’re specifically for carrying you around all day. Anything for my - princess.” You had very well noticed the little pause there, but you decided not to say anything yet. Instead, you lifted your chin and eyebrows, imitating what you thought a royal would look like.

“Well, what does that make you? You’re obviously not a prince. My lady knight?”

Abby nodded solemnly.

“Sworn to protect and defend you. And to carry you wherever.”

“Well, do you have a sofa you could carry me to?” You tightened your hold on her shoulders and leaned in closer again.

“Of course, my lady.”

Abby carried you through a doorway at the back of the dining room into a cozy living room, equipped with a large sofa and a gigantic flatscreen tv, two vintage armchairs, a wooden bookshelf with at least 100 books, and a desk facing the window, medical books spread across the surface. The blonde sat down on the sofa and you knelt left and right of her hips, straddling her as you gave her another soft kiss.

“You know,” you began, “I’ve been crushing on you for months now. I thought you had absolutely no interest in me. I didn’t even know you liked women.”

Abby’s eyes widened at your confession.

“Shit, I had no idea. You weren’t exactly forward, you know. The first time we met, you already had this pull on me. But you were so shy and I didn’t want to jump you or annoy you, so I tried to keep my distance and wait if you would come around.”

“You have Leah to thank for that. Me coming around. I kind of forgot to come out to her until karaoke night and she told me you were dating women as well. She knows I’ve been a hopeless case when it comes to you, but she wanted me to figure this out on my own.”

Abby thought about this for a second.

“Yeah, Leah probably only told you because she knew I liked you, too. I haven’t been that open about dating women in the past, just because talking about dating in general was weird with Owen and Mel around and I also just don’t like everyone knowing my personal business.”

“I get that.” You nodded. “As I said, I hadn’t even been out to Leah. Mostly because I haven’t dated anyone in forever and the last time was a disaster not worth talking about.” You winced at the memory.

“You wanna tell me anyway?”

You thought about it for a second, then you climbed off Abby’s lap and laid down on the sofa, resting your head on her thigh. Her fingers immediately began brushing through your hair and massaging your scalp.

“Well, I met this girl during a freshman party at a sorority house the weekend before my first semester in college,” you began. You had felt weirdly out of place, but were determined to speak to at least one person. A few hours and an almost-lethal amount of tequila later, the girl you had talked to all night had dragged you into one of the bedrooms. You both had no previous experience, were extremely drunk and it was already 5am. You had fun making out and were both eager to try more, but it had been more out of curiosity than desire for each other and so the experience had not ended in the expected bliss of lesbian sex. Rather, she had come pretty quickly and afterward she'd begun crying and told you she had a boyfriend, and you had gotten dressed and fled the house. After that, dating in college was not really something you thought about much.

Abby listened to your story with interest and sympathy, laughing at a few parts and stroking your hair as you told her about the end of that fateful night. She felt deeply sorry for your experience of strangeness and betrayal, immediately promising to you that she would always tell you what was going on inside her head and what she wanted.

“Like you just did,” you smiled at her. “That was brave. It’s what I should have done that night.”

“I mean, I had a few weird moments, too, before I learned to speak my mind.” Abby��s gaze unfocused and she frowned as she clearly recalled some not very pleasant memories.

“Wanna tell me, too?” you asked, keeping your voice light. She nodded, looking down at you again.

“I mean, there's Owen, obviously. That didn’t work out well and now he is with Mel, leaving me wondering if he was interested in her while we were still together. After we broke up, Nora and I went on a little bender.” Your heart jumped into your throat. Did Abby and Nora...? A wave of jealousy rose from the bottom of your stomach, but you forced yourself to keep your calm, smiling at Abby as she continued.

“We spent every weekend at a different bar, and one of them was actually at The Closet. Nora was making out with a woman in actual overalls” - she snorted - “and I just hung out at the bar, drinking Long Islands and not brave enough to make eye contact with anyone. And then the bartender started talking to me.”

Suddenly realization dawned on you. You sat up and stared at Abby.

“Wait, Ellie? The short-haired one?”

Abby grimaced.

“Yeah. We talked for a while and I came back the next week with Leah and Jordan. They didn’t even notice I was spending a lot of time at the bar. Ellie and I met for coffee a few days later and I mentioned my dad and she got really quiet and strange. Turns out, she’s related to the guy that murdered my dad, so...”

You were pretty sure your heart stopped for a moment, all the air in your chest building up pressure as you tried to figure out how to breathe out. Abby noticed and gently guided you to lay back down, continuing to weave her fingers into your hair.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll tell you the whole story another time. So yeah, Ellie and I. It was horrible, but we still stayed and talked for a while. She couldn’t tell me a lot about what happened, but she had no idea that I even existed and she was about to have a panic attack over it all. I helped her calm down and then she felt terrible for reacting so badly when it should be me panicking and I just told her that there’s nothing any of us can do now and we should probably leave it at that.” She sighed. “I hadn’t been to The Closet until a few days ago. I only came because I knew you’d be there.”

“Fuck, that’s terrible,” you mumbled. “I don’t think I could have gone back there. I’m still glad you did, though.”

“Me too,” Abby said, her voice gentle and honest. She leaned down to kiss you, deeply and passionately.

You stayed on the sofa for the next few hours, talking about school crushes and gay awakenings, about women constantly hitting on Abby and her being confused for a long time. She told you more about her relationship with Mel and you started to actually resent that woman. Who did she think she was? You told Abby about living with Leah and about your current research projects and she listened intently, asking a lot of questions about the art you were analyzing. You began diving into queer art and Sappho and your theory on the different languages of different social groups. Abby actually gave you some great new ideas and some good questions you couldn’t yet answer and you were actually beginning to look forward to writing tomorrow.

As the clock moved past midnight, it became clear you would have to leave at some point soon. Abby had to get up at 7 in the morning for a 10-hour shift, and you had stifled one too many yawns. You were cuddled up on the couch, kisses interchanging with long, deep conversations and more kisses.

“I can accompany you to the station,” Abby suggested as you looked up the departure times on your phone.

“You don’t have to. That’s sweet of you, but I’ll find the way.” You kissed her for her generosity, but she pulled back.

“Honestly. I don’t want you walking alone. I’ll go with you.” A sheepish smile appeared on her face and she did a tiny bow. “My lady.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, making your way to the entrance hall. Abby gently helped you into your coat and put on a black bomber jacket, a strange but hot combination with her fancy pants. She opened the door for you and you stepped out into the cold night together.

You held hands on the way to the station, stopping at every corner to make out, laughing together, and making plans for your lasagna night. You would come over on Thursday, promising to yourself you would finish all your coursework until then. Manny would come back on Friday, so you’d have the house to yourself again.

You arrived at the station way too soon, but your train was announced to arrive in two minutes. Heavy-hearted, you flung your arms around the tall blonde and she wrapped hers around your waist, lifting you up for another deep kiss.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered against your lips.

“I’ll even dress up next time,” you mumbled and she grinned at you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt. I’m excited.” Well, now you had to go shopping. Leah would be delighted to go with you.

You pressed a last kiss to Abby’s lips before unwrapping yourself from her arms as the train rolled into the station. As you stepped away, she caught your hand and pulled you back for another one, cheekily running her tongue over your bottom lip. You sighed and kissed her hand, wrapped firmly around yours, before stepping back and boarding the train. You waved at her through the window as you departed and watched her stand on the platform until she was out of sight.

Letting yourself fall into one of the seats, you pulled out your phone and texted your brother.

-We kissed!!!! Call me when you can

Then you texted Leah about shopping tomorrow, just able to send the text before your phone vibrated with a new message.

-You looked beautiful tonight. I’m the luckiest person in the world.

You tried to keep your squeal as quiet as possible. A woman a few seats ahead of you briefly looked up from her phone.

-Can’t believe I have a personal knight who will carry me wherever I want to go

The reply came in seconds.

-Anywhere and anything you want. Text me when you’re home!

-Can I text you before I’m home? I miss you already :(

You had to wait a few minutes before your phone vibrated again. This time, Abby was calling.

“Sorry, I was cleaning up and getting ready for bed.” She sounded a bit breathless.

“No worries,” you said. “What are you wearing for bed?”

Abby let out a surprised laugh.

“Really, now?”

“I’m serious. I want to imagine being with you.”

“Well, I’m wearing a gigantic black t-shirt with a ton of holes and boxers.”

You closed your eyes, envisioning Abby’s thighs straining against the hem of her shorts and the soft cotton of her shirt that you could bury your face in. She would smell like nature and like home somewhere far away.

“I wish I was there.” You noticed you were sounding desperate. Fucking hell, were you about to turn into a 13-year-old? You could hear the smile in Abby’s voice when she spoke.

“I wish you were here with me, too.” She paused for a moment. Then, “Do you want to sleep over on Thursday?”

“Uhm -” you had to think for a second, remembering you only had dinner plans for Friday with your mom. Before you could answer, Abby cut in again

“Fuck, am I rushing you? I didn’t mean - I just thought it would be nice, falling asleep together. But I totally get if that’s -”

“Abby! Of course I want to stay over!” You clenched your free hand into a fist, punching your thigh a few times in order to divert the explosion of energy inside your chest.

“Oh, thank god,” Abby’s shaky laugh was heart-wrenching. “I thought I messed up already.”

You stood up to exit at your station.

“No, not at all. I’d love to fall asleep with you.”

The way to your apartment was over faster than you wanted it to be.

“I’m home now. I think I should hang up, Leah is probably sleeping.”

“Yeah, don’t wake the monster.” Abby chuckled.

“Good night, Abby. Tonight was incredible.”

“Good night, Y/N. You’re incredible. Sleep tight.”

Author's note: Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #the last of us 2 #tlou abby #abigail anderson #abby fic #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fanfiction #ellie #ellie tlou #leah tlou #jordan tlou #owen moore #owen x mel #mel tlou #owen tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader

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strangedreamings · 2 years

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Destiny chapter three (AO3)

Peggy took a deep breath before letting herself into her flat early that evening. After completing the mission then the debriefing, all she wanted was a hot bath, a glass of wine, and something mindless to binge, a “self-care” routine Natasha had introduced her to. But first, I have to get Stephen sorted for the night. Thankfully, Nat’s free tomorrow, so I can get them a reservation at her favorite restaurant.

As soon as she walked into the foyer, the scent of fried food hit her nose and her mouth immediately started to water. Setting her duffel bag down, she then followed her nose to the dining room, where Stephen was waiting with a bag of fish and chips.

He grinned when she came into the room. “I had a feeling you might be missing a piece of home. I found an authentic fish and chips place near the British embassy and thought you deserved a treat.”

Peggy’s heart, already soft for this man who had been through so much, melted. “You went to all that trouble for me?” she asked as she went into the kitchen to grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

Stephen chuckled as he divided up the food. “It was no trouble, believe me. After being confined for so long, I needed some fresh air so I took a walk and found the place.”

She handed him a beer then they sat down across from each other. “I didn’t even know there was one.” After her first bite of the greasy fried fish, she couldn’t hold back a moan of delight at the familiar and much-missed taste. Stephen’s grin had her blushing. “Sorry, it’s been too long.”

He chuckled as he ate a chip. “Don’t be, I know how good food can be. The Chinese food we had during the planning session was my first meal in centuries, I had to hold back my moans.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to deny yourself anything, you know.”

Stephen waved a hand in dismissal. “Collateral damage from putting all my effort into getting Christine back then punishing myself for destroying everything I had left.” His gaze was on his food as he ate and while he kept his tone light, his pain was obvious.

She reached out to gently take his hand and he finally looked up at her. Just as she thought, the pain in his pale blue eyes was heartbreaking. “You’ve suffered enough, Stephen,” she said gently, “but you won’t be able to move on until you realize that.” She smiled a bit in an attempt to lighten the mood. “And if you can’t move on, then this trip has been in vain, and we don’t want that now, do we?”

He let out a little chuckle. “It’ll take time, Peggy.”

“Well, then, maybe you should give me more time,” she said, grinning.

“I should give myself more time, is what you mean.”

She smirked. “Ah, listening to a woman – the sign of a true genius.” She ate a fat, greasy chip and it was like mana from heaven. “I was going to set you up on a date with Natasha for tomorrow night but you obviously need more time than that.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Natasha Romanoff? She’s the one you think is my destined love?”

Peggy smiled sheepishly. “I haven’t made many female friends this century. The Watcher said she’s someone I know and Natasha’s the only one who’s currently single, so it must be her.”

Don’t sell yourself short, Peggy. Steve Rogers’ voice in her head was enough to fill her with nostalgia but she could finally admit that while she missed him, her heart no longer ached for him. You like the Doc, do something about it.

He isn’t meant for me, she thought as she took a sip of her beer. As much as I like him, as much as we have in common, he’s meant for someone else. Being the second love of Stephen Strange’s life is her destiny, not mine.

Still, the dubious look on his face made him wonder what, if any, kind of relationship he had with the Natasha from his universe. Am I wrong? No, there’s no one else it could be, so it must be her. Still, a small but growing part of Peggy wished she was the one. But the Watcher would have said it was me, wouldn’t he?

#marvel's what if #captainmystic #captain carter #peggy carter #doctor strange #stephen strange #doctor strange supreme #steven x peggy #starter

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years

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And You Should Live | Changmin/Q [Part Two]

Athlete Changmin au! In which you and Changmin teach each other how to live again.

Genre: angst, tearjerker, fluff

Part One | Part Two

The few months that the ex-athlete spends confined in hospital are definitely some of the most challenging weeks you've had by far. It takes patience and acceptance of his new body, of the way that he is now going to live his life, and it's easier said than done. A psychiatrist checks up on him every week but his complaints are verbal and abusive, not one to hide his discontentment. There is no sign of his father, though his mother drops in once a week at most to bring some spare clothes and wheedle a few responses out of him, in vain.

He cries the first time he sees himself in the mirror, hair all dishevelled, stubble forming over his chin, skin all grey and pale from months of no sunshine. And you stand behind him that day, heart breaking in tine with his as the pained sobs falling from his mouth bounced throughout the room. He cries without relent this time as your hands tighten their grip on the handles of his wheelchair, helpless to his pain and desperate to somehow make it right in any way possible.

The next day, you bustle in with a comb, some shaving cream and a pair of scissors.

“No,” is Changmin’s reaction, as with everything you’ve once introduced to him. You’re now used to his reticence and instead shove his hands away from you, a measley attempt to stop your advances. Instead, you threaten to attach his arms at his sides if he doesn’t cooperate and with a few more grumbles under his breath, he settles back against his pillow like a sulky child.

“I can’t believe this,” he mumbles through closed lips as you dabble some shaving cream over his face. Mind you, you’ve definitely never done this on a man before and so you dip your head closer to his face, teeth nibbling onto your lower lip as you focus on spreading the cream evenly across his jawline.

"I swear, Y/N, if you cut me--”

“Oh shush,” you wave his protests away before drawing out the razor you’ve slipped into your pocket. Then, you gingerly lean down once more to slowly slide the device at the edge of his jaw.

Feeling his orbs on your face, you can’t help but spare him a quick glance only for your eyes. They’re dark maroon, so dark you can barely make out his pupils from his irises, and they reflect an intensity that somehow makes your insides squirm and your heart to speed up--

“Ouch!” he cries out and you jump back in surprise, eyes flying wide open with panic, “fuck! Did I hurt you?!” You dab at his skin in search of a cut, “shit, I’m so sorry--”

Changmin’s giggle bursts through his mouth and it takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s only pulling your leg. Your hands drop to your sides in growing annoyance, “you!--”

“Sorry, it was all too obvious that you’ve never did this before,” Changmin’s eyes crinkle up into crescents. It might be the first time you’ve seen him laugh with such purity, and you can’t help but stare at the dimple forming on his cheeks, at the way his whole face lights up like a Christmas tree.

And then, you blink and let out an exasperated sigh before you shove his shoulder, “you’re such a dick,” you mutter as you resume shaving him.

“Sorry,” he keeps on giggling, “you should’ve seen your face.”

"Keep that up and I’ll make sure you have no hair left on your scalp.”

You decide to move on to his hair a few days later just as he is being wheeled back in by the said psychiatrist. You bow to him, cheeks involuntarily rising when his gaze meets yours, a tender smile dancing across his lips.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Y/N,” he says.

“You’re the one who’s always busy, Sangyeon,” you grin back.

“Ah yeah. Especially during exams season. A lot of students drop by,” Sangyeon nods at Changmin, “well, I’ve leave you two to it then. Maybe we can catch up over coffee sometime Y/N.”

“That’d be great!”

You don’t realize that you’ve still got a stupid smile on your face until Changmin lets out a snort, “you look ridiculous.”

Scowling back at him, you lift the scissors up threateningly, “keep talking and I will make you bald, Changmin.”

" You like him? He's such a dork," Changmin continues without relent as you wheel him to the washroom, " And you know what? He smells really bad if he doesn't wear perfume."

"And how would you, of all people, know that?" your fingers comb back his hair to tie it up into sections, eyes clashing with his in the bathroom mirror.

"Because I smelt him once when he came from the gym."

" That's just how humans work," you retort with a Scoff," also, I don't think you should be the one to talk, considering you were an athlete."

"That's different! I was training!"

" You're not denying the fact that you smell bad too though, without deodorant."

"Oh yeah?" He sniffs, "well I ain't got any deodorant now. Smell me, go on."

His statement is so outrageously crazy that you burst out laughing and soon enough he joins in so that you giggle like two schoolchildren sharing mischievous secrets. Ruffling your fingers through his hair and combing it through with water, your fingers proceed to measure how much hair to chip off.

" can I trust you with that?" doubt coats Changmin's voice.

You scoff in return as a large clump cascades down his shoulders and makes him yelp, " Don't worry, I won't murder you. If that's what you were thinking about."

" Well I can't help but think about that now."

The blossoming friendship is inevitable. After all, you were almost the same age and had fallen into a complicity, having spent so much time together. So much so tha the man would outrightly refuse anyone else's help albeit the fact that you had only told him good things about your colleagues.

When his discharge came around - a little too soon for your liking if you were being honest with yourself- he'd requested for your presence on the evening before his departure, where you had brought along some cookies that your little brother had made the night before.

"I can't eat that," Changmin crinkles his nose, acting exactly like one of those pompous arrogant kids that had more money in their wallet than they had brains.

You push it towards him nevertheless, "just try it."

" I told you, I can't eat that."

" Why not?"

"Because-" his words die halfway through his throat in realization and it dawns on you that it's probably something to do with his previous diet.

But you don't have time to find a proper response before his hand snatches one cookie up and shoves it in his mouth, head turned away to avoid your concerned gaze.

" It's good," is his response after a beat of silence, and you smile.

"So what do you plan on doing when you get home?" you lean your head onto your palm, a soft yawn falling from your mouth.

" Haven't figured that out yet. Probably lie around feeling sorry for myself," he shrugs nonchalantly, but you know it's far from that, " smoke up. I never got the chance to try. Might as well start now."

You find yourself rolling your eyes at him. Then, out of the blue, he suddenly catches you off guard.

" You always ask me about myself. But now that I think about it," he tilts his head sideway. curious," I don't know much about you. Actually, I don't know you at all."

That's it. That's the moment your heart constricts and your throat closes up so that you choke on air. You don't look at him, quickly finding interest in the mold growing at the corner of the room while you mutter out that there is nothing to tell.

You know he's not dumb enough to fall for your lie, because he repeats the question, a glowing glint of curiosity in his eye.

So you tell him. In the simplest words possible, you tell him. About how normal you are, really normal. About your average grades, your small group of friends, your family of five that you cherish with all your heart. And about the scars that line up your thighs like a row of soldiers, the time where you had almost given your life away due to the unexplainable sadness consuming you from the inside.

When you're done you can barely look at him. Your hands find comfort in the folds of your white nurse pants and suddenly you can feel the scars glowing with heat, searing hot against your now sweaty palms.

It's still as fragile as ice to be talking about this memory in particular, and you're not even sure why you've suddenly divulged it all to the man sitting before you.

"That explains a lot."

Your eyes flutter up to his, surprised at his statement.

His gaze is strong as he holds yours, " about the way you care about people... about me."

" I know what it's like," comes your mumble," to suffer in silence."

A comfortable silence fills the gap in the room and despite the chilly coldness of the walls, your cheeks feel warm, entire body suddenly bathed in heat as a result of Changmin's subtle compliment.

Which is why you almost yelp when heat engulfs your hand. Blinking down just in time to feel Changmin's fingers give yours a gentle squeeze, your heart suddenly grows twice-fold through your chest.

" Thank you," you look up at him as he murmurs and you swore his face has never seemed so gentle.

"You don't -" your throat runs dry, " there's no need to thank me. It's not something to be thankful for."

"Oh don't go all poetic on me," Changmin rolls his eyes though his hand, you notice, makes no move to retract.

Not that you mind.

" You'll still visit," you chew on the inside of your cheek as gently, Oh so gently, his thumb starts a slow brush against your knuckles, "right?"

His orbs crinkle into a soft smile when you peek at his face, " Missing me already? Y/N, you used to hate my guts."

You mutter that you still do, which earns you a playful shove before another round of laughter ensues. And then he’s pulling you into his chest in a hug that leaves your insides tingling and your body suddenly erupting as if a troop of butterflies have decided to make their way from the top of your head down to the tip of your toes. And though you know that tomorrow will never be the same, you try to hold on to the warmth blossoming over your heart and the delicious fuzzy scramble inside your stomach that makes smiling a little easier.

He tucks your head underneath his chin, hands coming up to stroke your back in comforting circles. It’s a friendly hug, no doubt, one that is as innocent as the baby born a few seconds ago in the adjacent room. Yet, you wonder whether Changmin can hear how fast, how hard your heart is beating at this very instant.

You pull back slowly after a moment while averting your gaze, your hands still entangled together like a flurry of mixed-up jigsaw puzzles that somehow fit so right.

"Here," taking your hand in his before motioning towards the pen attached to his medical clipboard, you watch as he scribbles a bunch of numbers," Now you have my number. So you have no excuse."

"Is that a threat?" you can't help but smile.

He grins back, dimple showing, " if that's what it takes to make you talk to me."

-♡-

Your shifts at the hospital without Changmin are void and empty now that he's gone. The first time you walk in to see an unfamiliar face in the space that Changmin was supposed to be, something almost akin to pain twists inside your chest and you swivel around almost instantly, excusing yourself as bile crawls up your throat.

It's normal, this is what hospital life is about. You constantly meet people, bond with them, only to have them walk out the door as abruptly as they had come.

And yet, there's a sense of haunted expectation that follows you around Wherever you go, as if you're bound to eventually bump into the said man at any moment. Sometimes, you catch yourself getting glimpses of his face amongst the crowd. One might have his nose, or the same undercut he sports ( the result of yours truly 's doing) or even the same tonal inflection that gathers your hopes up, only for it to deflate once you realize it's not him. It never is.

You cave in one night as you gaze at the array of numbers that will bring you to his voice, deciding on impulse as your fingers fly across the keyboard.

"Hello?"

His voice is deeper than in your memories, rough, like he's just awoken.

Your fingers tighten onto the device, "Hey. Remember me?"

You hear a sharp intake of breath, "It took you this long to call?” he accuses and you can already picture the narrow-eyed stare he throws you, that some glower that you always laugh at instead of being offended.

That becomes your new normal, calling him day and night and in-between shifts. Sometimes he’d send you messages during the day, little highlights of what he does. He tells you about how his parents are literally breathing down his neck every second of the day, how his rehab sessions are getting harder and harder that he almost wishes he could give it all up. He doesn’t mention going out or meeting friends, and something inside you can’t help but twist in concern at his dismissive tone.

"How about prosthetics?” you ask unsurely, fearful that he’ll retract back into his shell the moment you mention it.

And you’re right. He’s quiet for a few long seconds that pass by like an eternity. So you hurriedly add, “you don’t have to answer that. It’s not my problem after all--”

“I have,” he cuts you off, “spoken to my physiotherapist about it.”

Your chest gives a small lurch of anticipation, unconsciously pressing the device closer to your ear, “what did he say?”

“He thinks I still need a little bit more strength. I used to train everyday, so all my muscles were suddenly atrophied the first few months I spent in hospital,” Changmin replied as he shifted on the other end of the receiver, “but if I keep it up, he said he’d send in a request for me to be on the waiting list.”

“That’s wonderful Changmin!” Hope flared through your chest and warmed your heart as though you’ve just drank a cup of warm tea, the grin on your face almost as bright as the sun itself, “oh that’s good news! Maybe you’ll be able to walk again! Maybe--”

“It’s not that easy,” Changmin hurriedly says in response and is it your imagination or does he sound a little...embarrassed? “I mean, even with the prosthetics, he said it would take some time for my own body to adjust.”

While you haven’t seen his face for so long, there is a sense of comfort that washes over you whenever you speak to the said ex-athlete. It’s like this silent cord of communication that comes to life whenever you talk and laugh and giggle about life in general. You find yourself craving for his phone calls every day, your heart dropping in disappointment when he tells your that he’s too busy, only to flutter in exhilaration whenever you see his name flashing across your phone screen. It’s bad, that your happiness depends on a young man who’s clearly already starting to build his own life away from you, away from those damned hospital walls that everyone hates so much, but while your mind keeps on reminding you that maybe it would be wiser to take a step back, your heart aches to hear Changmin’s soft alto, if that’s the only thing that will soothe over the pain of his absence.

"So now that you’re out of the hospital, you don’t even visit?” you once tell him off. It’s true, that he has not dropped by once over the past five months after being discharged.

Guilt resonates in his voice when he answers, “sorry, Y/N. I’ve-- I’ve been busy. And my parents--you know, they’re not that keen for me to go around by myself yet.”

You tut at him but decide to let it go. The only memory you have of his parents is the one conversation that haunts you till this day forth. You can’t imagine how it must feel to live in a home where the ones who supposedly love you the most are the ones who believe you’ve lot your ability to walk just to spite them.

October slowly moves in to November, before November falls right into December, who trickles in with the gift of snowfall. You catch yourself gazing out of the window at the slowly drifting snowflakes more often times than not, the sense of melancholy bringing you back to your school days whenever you spot young children playing in the yard. Patients come and go, ones that you get along with, ones that are still a pain in the butt up until they’re getting discharged. Soon, you count the days till your internship is going to be over and dread slowly fills you at the prospect of having to go back to school, to go back to the life of book and spending countless hours cooped up in the library.

Your friends throw a party on the eve of Christmas, but when you invite Changmin to come along, he is quick to dismiss your invitation with an excuse that he’ll feel like the butt of a joke and besides, who wants to sit there and watch all of you have fun on the skating rink?

“But I’ll stay with you,” your protests are drowned out by him adamantly shaking his head, the shadow on his face evident even in the pixelated screen of the video call.

“No way,” his jaw clenches, “no way. I’m not going out there just so that people can feel sorry for me.”

“Okay,” you pause, “but Changmin, we haven’t seen each other since you got discharged. What happened to us meeting each other often and keeping in touch?”

“We are keeping in touch,” he protests even when his eyes slide away from the screen.

You shake your head with a sigh, “fine. Be that way. I’m just trying here, but that’s not a one-way street,” and you cut the call before waiting for his answer.

Mood ruined, you are clearly not in your right state of mind the moment you show up at the skating rink. Still, you make an effort. And with your friends’ naked excitement and jovial cheerfulness, it’s hard to keep sulking in a corner. The lights hanging over the trees adorning the skating rink are twinkling red and gold and shimmering green, bouncing off the ice and creating such a magical atmosphere that it is hard to keep the grin from breaking across your face.

Until Chanhee, one of the mutual friends that had tagged along, tugs you away to give you a gift. You blink down at it, confused as to why this young m decked with numerous admirers -- was giving you a gift as though you knew each other.

He seems to read what’s on your mind, for he quickly lifts his hands in surrender, “It’s from Changmin. The one from the track team?”

The name clogs up the back of your throat. Changmin?

“You--” Your mind reels in shock. You blink, “you know him?”

“Not really. He just dropped by, said to give this to you.”

"What?" You swivel around to scan the perimeter, "where? Where is he?"

"He's not here--"

But you are already halfway across the rink, striding with such purposeful speed that no one has decency to stop you as you hurry, legs burning with effort, until you turn on the corner of the road.

Nothing.

Your chest heaves. He was here, you know he was. He just doesn't want to see you.

That thought alone makes your heart ache.

When you get back home to finally open his present that night, your breath catches in your throat the moment you open the box to see a pair of earrings, simple yet elegant musical notes dangling from their hangers. They are beautiful, exquisitely so. It makes your heart pound, your stomach blossom with a troop of butterflies as you wonder at the thought of Changmin picking out a pair of earrings especially for you. That idea alone makes heat flare through your face.

A card had fallen out of the gift wrap and you gingerly pick it up from the floor, eyes scanning the words scrawled on the inside:

"Since you've been a good listener to me, I thought of gifting your ears. Thank you for these past few months. I'm sorry for not having the courage to face you yet. I'm sorry.

Love,

Changmin."

Tears sting the corner of your ears and you brush them away hastily with the back of your hand, his voice resonating through his words with such a vivid picture that your heart aches at the prospect of having just missed him. If you had been a few seconds early, he might’ve still been around and maybe, just maybe, you’d have the chance to catch a glimpse of his face, to allow yourself to gaze at those deep brown eyes that -- once foreign -- felt like falling into a galaxy of stars in the world that defines Changmin.

As if upon mere reflex, you don’t even think twice before dialling his number.

He picks up after the second ring.

“You,” there is so much restrained emotion in your voice that it feels clogged coming out of your mouth, “I don’t get it. We haven’t seen each other for six months. That’s almost half a year. What happened to ‘let’s stay in touch and that you’ll visit?’ “

It’s not fair for him to fall victim to the built-up frustration swimming in your stomach for months. But your mouth is like a dam that suddenly bursts and the words come rushing out of you faster than you can blink.

“You can’t just walk into my life and walk out of it as if the time spent in hospital meant nothing to you. If that’s the case, then why even bother answering my calls then? Why not just cut me off altogether? It’s not fair Changmin,” you swallow thickly, “It’s not fair. You’re not the one that gets to choose when we see each other, or when we don’t.”

There’s a pause where you catch your breath, and when he speaks next, his voice is rough, laced with remorse, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You breathe out shakily, “why?” Your nose feels stuffed and you’re pretty certain it’s glowing red, “do you not want to see me? Is that it? Why don’t you just say so--”

“I do want to see you, Y/N. Just--Just not--” he chokes on the last word, “not now.”

“Why?”

The silence that follows hangs between you both like a bubble threatening to pop, held with a string of tension so high you feel goosebumps explode across the back of your arms.

And then, just when you think that he is too much of a coward to actually say something in his defence, his alto resonates through the receiver:

“Do you trust me?”

Your mind pauses. You digest his words. Do you?

It takes a moment of hesitation for you to murmur your agreement.

“Then, please don’t question whatever’s happening, whatever I’m doing right now,” he inhales, exhales softly, before repeating, “please.”

And you’re not really sure why, or how, you still have faith in this relationship of yours that you’re not even sure where to classify it. You just nod and murmur out, “okay,” all that while silent tears are paving trails down your cheeks to dribble along your chin.

You just hope that whatever his reason is, he better have a damn good one.

-♡-

You wait.

And wait.

You keep waiting.

The new year comes and goes by without much excitement. February is a spring breeze filled with valentine cards and balloons popping up at every corner of the street. March is wet and full of rain showers, so much so that there is not one day you don’t come home soaked to the bone and shaking like a dog.

After your argument on Christmas eve, you decide to do what’s best for you, which is protect your heart at all costs. Tossing away the hope that maybe there might be something akin to romance blossoming between the two of you, you focus instead on the new semester as well as the troubles and stress that come along with it. Through it all, you keep a constant stream of chatter between you and the said young man, whom you’ve learnt has taken up French lessons online to stimulate his brain and now can fully move around in his wheelchair without any assistance.

“Look,” Changmin said once when he’d swivelled the camera around to show you how he’d managed to get himself into the garden, “I barely had any energy in my arms when I first left the hospital. Now, it’s as easy as walking.”

The smile on his face was as pure as sunshine and your gut felt weird knowing that you were in the same city and yet could not, for whatever of his personal reasons, see him face to face.

The physicality of him is a void in your life you had patched up with a flurry of activities to keep your mind busy. Whenever you catch yourself daydreaming of the possible what ifs surrounding this young man, you’d throw yourself head first into any activity -- literally anything -- to keep your mind off; accompanying your mother to the grocery store for instance, or helping your dad mow the lawn. Maybe it’s just a coping mechanism until you crash headfirst into a wall and realize that running away from your problems isn’t going to cut it. But for now, you’d accept this gladly as your fate.

The most you get of him is through video call, not that this can compare to actually seeing him physically in real life. But hey, you’re taking what you can get at this point. It makes you grow closer to each other, communicating every day about everything and anything. Though the physical distance has never seemed so huge, you can’t help but feel like these past few months you feel like you’ve grown even closer to the man in the wheelchair on the other side of the screen, heart warming and cheeks flushing deep red whenever you catch yourself wistfully daydreaming of encountering Changmin again after so long.

You’re not even sure where the time goes but no sooner are you done with your final semester of University that a year has passed. A year since you’ve met Changmin, a year since your internship that seems to have opened your eyes to see the world in a whole different perspective, as if you’ve been blind up until now.

A whole year and you still haven’t seen nor hide or hair of the said young man.

That ultimately changes one day.

You’re to attend the Children’s Day event at the hospital which you’ve interned at that day. Decked in a pair of loose khaki pants and a white shirt, you’ve tied your hair up in a bun for the occasion and trudge to the hospital doors with your worn-out, red converse.

That’s when you hear a voice. You hear him, calling out your name.

You freeze for a moment, mind going in a mental frenzy as you try to hold yourself together. This has happened all too many times to count, where you’d turn around so fast expecting to see Changmin’s dimpled smile greet you-- only to end up grinning at a random passerby instead.

But then his voice resonates louder, stronger. Curling through the air and shattering through reality like a bass drum:

“Y/N.”

Slowly, like you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, you turn around. Your eyes settle across a familiar face, features that you’ve endlessly traced god knows how many times in your dreams and almost on instinct, a scream dies at the back of your throat while you stumble back in shock, blinking furtively and trying to make sense of the reality before you.

Because there, with that same dimpled smile and those brown eyes curved into crescents, sits Changmin.

“Wha--” you don’t know what to say, precisely why you stop yourself mid-way through a sentence. You’re not really sure if you’re dreaming or not, thumb instantly pressing down against one of your fingers in case this might be a dream.

But the sting is all too real and you can’t help sucking in a breath, stunned into silence.

You gawk. He stares back evenly, a lingering smile dancing on his lips.

Changmin, your mind screams. Changmin.

He’s here. Right here within an arm’s touch.

You don’t think. You can’t even breathe for a second.

Your feet stumble, as if attracted to him like a magnet. Heart beating in the back of your throat.

“You--” your throat is clogged as if you can barely breathe and in response the young man only chuckles, the laughter resonating through your ears and reminding you of all the reasons why you’ve held on so tightly to him for all these months. Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you don’t even bother to stop them cascading down your cheeks. Instead, you take your time to analyze his face, to trace the contour of his lips an the edge of his nose with your maroon orbs like a parched woman taking a first sip for the very first time.

When Changmin speaks next, his alto is a soft murmur, “surprise?”

“You--You--” you want to say something, anything. But the only words that manage to make it out are, “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” he replies softly, “I’m here.”

The urge to hug him suddenly overtakes your body and you move forward as if on instinct, until he stops you with a lift of his hands.

“I can explain,” his eyes flutter down for a moment, before going back up to meet your brown orbs, “why I never asked to meet up, why it seemed like I never wanted to see you.”

Confusion flits across your face, causing Changmin to let out another chuckle, more nervous this time, before his hands went to press down onto the handles on each side.

And then slowly, as if you are staring at some kind of miracle of some sort, you see him lift himself up on his legs.

And then he stands. On his legs.

He’s standing.

Changmin is standing.

A breath escapes the back of your throat. Your heart almost drops to your stomach. What?

“Wha--” orbs flickering back and forth between his legs and his face, your brain goes into overdrive at the sight before you, “How?”

The Changmin, who had almost given up on life the moment he was wheeled inside the hospitals. Changmin, who had tossed any help away as though they were only nuisances in his life.

This Changmin was now standing before you on his own two feet and grinning from ear to ear as if he’d never been happier in his entire life.

“Prosthetics,” he explains then, even though you’ve already managed to put two and two together, “I didn’t want you to see me...in such a state. I wanted to make sure I could walk, by the time I saw you again,” he bites down onto his lower lip, “so it took a little more time than expected. That--” he inhales shakily, closing his eyes for a second, before gazing straight into yours with such an intensity it makes your heart stutter, “that was the promise I made myself.”

“But--how--That must’ve--” you can’t seem to find coherence in the tangled knot of thoughts in your brain, “that must’ve hurt--”

“You said so yourself,” he murmurs, taking a shaky step towards you. Then another, and another. Until he’s now just at arm’s reach, “that I need to start living.”

“I--” you swallow thickly, “I--Changmin, I don’t know what to say--”

“Then don’t say anything,” his hands come up to cup your face, “just kiss me.”

And his mouth is claiming yours before you can even respond, moving with such an intensity that your surprised gasp is drowned out by the sensation of warmth blossoming over your chest. He kisses you with an almost desperate need , mouth moving at a pace that leaves your thoughts dizzy, your breaths uneven and your chest tight with fluttering butterflies while his hands find purchase at your waist to pull you even closer, so close you can feel his hard frame against your curves.

Your eyes flutter open when you part momentarily, lips still hovering over each other and foreheads pressed. Gazing up into those dark pupils of his, so tender and intense at the same time, a sob echoes through the back of your throat without meaning to before you bury your face into his neck in a mixture of shame and embarrassment of being seen in such a weak, shaken-up state.

You feel his hand rub comforting circles over your back in a gesture of comfort, of reassurance. That only makes you sob a little harder, clutching onto him with a feline’s grip as if you fear he might vanish the second you blink.

“Y/N,” Changmin’s soft alto reaches your ears, “Y/N, it’s okay.”

It is only when his legs shake that you take it as a hint that he shouldn’t be standing too much. Wiping away your tears with the back of your hand, you quickly help him back into his chair as you’re met with another of his wide grins that takes years off his age, “sorry,” he says, “I’m not really supposed to stand for too long. It’s only until recently that I managed to stand on my own.”

“And yet you were showing off,” you remark with a roll of your eyes.

“I wanted our first kiss to be a good one."

Something about his abrupt confession has you redden down to the tips of your toes, heat tingling like electricity down your back while his hand grasps yours to tug you closer. You look down at him and wonder where all the pain has gone, for it seems like Changmin's voice is free from the tension, the earlier pain that had deeply etched grooves onto his features.

But it's not there anymore. His expression ie clear, pure joy glistening through his eyes. You wonder briefly what changed and you can't help but ask, not even bothered by the cold nipping at your fingers.

His eyes soften at your words as his thumb traces random circles over your knuckles, "nothing changed. I just decided that I wouldn't be that person who spends his days being depressed and sad all the time."

"Does it hurt?" You motion towards his legs, "how did you even do it? I know of patients who did the same treatment. It's not easy, you have to go through rehab--"

"Which I did. I took all the pamphlets you gave me, signed up for counselling and physiotherapy. Went everyday until I had blisters along my thighs. It was hard, I almost gave up," he shakes his head, the memory causing his face twist in a slight grimace, "but I wanted to show you. I wanted to show you that I could do it. Y/N, I don't think I've ever been that desperate before. You know that one race you want to win? It felt like that. Like my life depended on it."

His eyes are so intense it makes your breath catch in your throat. Your entire chest constricts. He continues:

"I just wanted to prove to you that I was capable of doing something like that. And along the way, I guess I just felt like...like all this, this felt like living."

And it is. Gone is the weight that bears down on his shoulders. Changmin looks like he's finally breathing again, like he set himself free from the cage of his own mind.

Pride swells within you. It's amazing how far he's come from the broken mess he once was and tears prick ay the corner of your eyes.

Softly, he tugs you down onto his lap and you don't even fight it, allowing your body to give in to the warmth emanating from his chest and the feeling of his face so close to yours.

H pushes away a strand of hair from your forehead, curling it behind your ear. His maroon orbs meet yours, warm and swimming with affection, "I missed you," he murmurs huskily, causing a flurry of tingles down your spine.

"I--" your eyebrows knit together as all the time spent alone comes rushing back to you, "I missed you too."

His thumb rub circles over your cheek, "I’m sorry, I didn't want to hurt you."

"No, it's fine," you pause, hands tightening over his shirt, "I can understand."

"I didn't want to disappoint you--”

"I know.”

“--And I didn’t want you thinking I was a coward. Or pathetic.”

“I know, Changmin.”

A sigh escapes his lips before he buries his face into your neck, breathing in your scent. You shiver in response and heat flushes through your neck upon feeling his lips ghost over your skin, "Am I forgiven then?" He murmurs.

"I guess you are--" the words die halfway up your throat when he presses the softest peck against your pulse point. Breath quickening, your body instinctively tenses as you ask, "what are you doing?"

"Nothing,” you don’t have to see his grin to know it’s there, imprinted on his face. But at this very moment, not even an inch of your brain cares, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him as close as you can. Changmin takes a shaky inhale at your touch as his own hands flutter down your back, the softest of caresses up and down your spine as you hold each other in the coldness of the hospital parking lot.

"I’m not letting you go again,” the murmur falls past your lips before you can stop them, but you don’t even have time to ponder over the cheesiness of your statement that Changmin’s arms wind so tight around your middle that you are pulled close, his hard frame against your curves.

You swallow, eyes locking in silent conversation, though it’s not quite silent since the love shining through his maroon orbs is as clear as crystal water.

He nudges his nose against yours, “I could say the same for you.”

You smile as he steals another kiss from your lips, not caring that your bodies are freezing, not even thinking about how ridiculous you must look sitting on his lap in the middle of the hospital parking lot.

All you know is that Changmin-- breathing and alive and filled with so much life and energy and hope -- has made his way back to you. And that you’re not about to let go.

143 notes · View notes

yespleasefandomtrash · 4 years

Note

Catradora fluff prompt: those sleepovers back at the horde that Catra told Glimmer she and Adora used to have and stay up all night whispering about... *blush* *blush* I WANNA KNOW WHAT THEY WHISPERED ABOUT

aka some good pre-relationship fluff! love it love it love it. there isn't really a particular time this is set - maybe 6 months to a year before Adora left the Horde? it's pretty much however you want to read it :)

~*~

“Ugh. Training was brutal today.” Adora collapsed backwards onto her bunk, wincing at the jolt of pain that ran through her shoulder and earning a startled “mrp!” from Catra, who was lying at the foot of the bed. “I’m gonna be sore for a week.”

Catra resettled herself before rolling her eyes at her friend’s dramatic reaction. “You’re the one who stayed for extra practice, Adora. Practice that you definitely don’t need. So really, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Adora tried to shift from where she was lying, wincing as her left shoulder started to cramp. Maybe she’d pulled something after all, ouch. “There’s no such thing as ‘unneeded’ practice. If I have any hopes of being promoted to Force Captain, I have to prove to Hordak and Shadow Weaver that I’m capable of working harder and doing better than anyone else!”

Catra’s nose wrinkled in disgust at the mention of their… superiors. “Come on, Adora. You don’t need to prove your worth to anyone, much less them of all people.”

Adora groaned as she rolled over onto her stomach. “You’re just saying that because you’re my friend.”

Catra frowned, sitting up to observe her, her tail flicking back and forth in an almost mesmerizing fashion. “Uh… You okay?”

“Yup. Totally fine.” Adora dropped her face into her pillow, muffling her voice. “Don’t you need to be getting back to your bunk? It’s… really late.” Like, after-midnight late.

Catra snorted. “Right. Because I’m just going to leave you while you’re in denial about some injury you caused yourself.”

Adora simply grunted in response. Now that her adrenaline rush had faded and she wasn’t jumping around and dodging the virtual princesses and their not-so-virtual weaponry… ugh. She was starting to feel some of those blows.

“Plus…” Although Adora refused to remove her face from her pillow, she didn’t have to look up to imagine the way that the corners of Catra’s lips had curled up into a mischievous smirk. “I filled Kyle’s shoes with mushed up ration bars, which means I have to hide wherever you are so Rogelio doesn’t come after me.”

That revelation got Adora to lift her head. “Aw, Catra! You said we were going to do that together,” she said accusingly, though her voice did sound whinier than she would have liked. “Or did you forget that we planned to hide in the vents afterwards to wait and watch him put his shoes on?”

“Well, you were too busy practicing without me,” Catra snapped. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t feel like waiting for you, Your Highness.”

Adora didn’t miss the way her friend’s ears flattened and how her eyes dropped to the floor - she always did that when she was upset. “Catra…” She tried to keep her voice gentle as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, ignoring what felt like fire coursing through her left shoulder. “I thought you were okay with waiting until I was done training today.”

“I was!” Catra’s tail flicked faster - she was either angry, anxious, or lying. Given the context, possibly a combination of all three.

“Really? Then why’d you put ration bars in Kyle’s shoes without me?” Adora sighed, rolling her eyes. “Catra, if you would just be honest with me we could figure out -”

“Shut up! I told you I don’t care!” Catra growled. She shoved Adora away, which was certainly not an action unfamiliar to either of them, but Adora’s bruised body and newfound shoulder injury did not take kindly to the sudden forceful contact.

She was barely able to bite back a pained groan as she hit the wall behind her - regrettably left shoulder first - and the sound instead more came out a muffled squeak. Adora instinctively reached up to grab her injured shoulder, hissing slowly and muttering a curse under her breath. Okay. So she probably hadn’t pulled anything, but it was starting to feel pretty clear that she had at least bruised the bone. Her arm was still too mobile for it to have been a dislocation.

As the pain gradually dulled from the impact and the static faded from the edges of her vision, she looked up to see Catra staring at her in horror - no, at her arm - before jumping to her feet and bolting out of the room.

“No, Catra!” Adora shouted, reaching out with her uninjured arm as if she could somehow catch her friend. “Wait!”

Catra didn’t wait. She never did, even when they were little kids. But old habits died hard, and Adora knew exactly where Catra had gone to hide.

“Alright, Adora,” she muttered, trying to brace herself for the inevitable pain that standing up would bring. “You got this.”

She forced herself to get to her feet, wincing but biting her tongue, determined to remain silent and not alert anyone to what she was doing. She was definitely not going to accidentally show Shadow Weaver her injuries. That never ended well.

After walking around in circles for several minutes and doing some stretches to get her blood flowing, Adora found the pain to be considerably more bearable. Still, she’d have to avoid using her left arm for the next week so it could heal. That in itself was almost more annoying than the pain of the injury.

Adora then grabbed her pillow and her blanket from her bunk, tucking the two bags of chips that Lonnie had gotten smuggled into the Fright Zone inside the blanket to hopefully decrease the chances of them being discovered even if she herself was caught.

Catra’s typical hideouts weren’t far from Adora’s ‘room’, which she’d always teased Catra about, telling her it was a sign that her subconscious couldn’t bear to be too far away from her even when she was angry. Catra heavily denied this theory, but as she denied most things she was too embarrassed to admit, her reaction really only enforced the theory as true in Adora’s mind.

Catra was exactly where Adora had suspected she’d be - huddled behind three half-empty oil barrels and a pile of assorted scrap metal, legs pulled to her chest and body facing the wall.

“Predictable much?” Adora said, unable to keep amusement out of her voice as she ducked her head to get in before sitting down next to her friend, leaving about a foot and a half of space between them. “Were you really just going to come here and sulk until morning? At least the bunks are more comfortable than a concrete floor.” She paused. “Well, not by much, but -”

“God, don’t you ever shut up?” Catra grumbled, making a point of turning farther away from her. “I obviously came here to be alone, so get the hell away.”

Adora bit back a sigh. Catra was so easy to read. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” she finally said, her voice quiet. “And I know that I should have been more honest with you about how I may have overworked myself. Just a tad.”

“I told you to go away, Adora!”

“I don’t take orders from you,” Adora retorted. “Besides, I already brought everything except my mattress with me, so no, I’m not going anywhere except to sleep. Right here.”

A familiar growl rumbled in the back of Catra’s throat, and her hand flashed out like lightning as she dragged her claws down the wall in front of her. She then slowly turned around, her ears flat to her head. “You never listen to me.”

“Psh, that is not true,” Adora said with a snort as she fluffed her pillow. As much as that sad piece of fabric could be fluffed, anyways. She then placed it on the floor so she could rest her head on it later. “I just only listen to you when you have good advice, and we both know those moments are few and far between.”

Catra rolled her eyes, her ears slowly moving back upright. “I definitely remember telling you today that practicing extra would end badly, which I was right about, but you were all like ‘no, Catra, I need to impress everyone so they love me even more!’”

Adora snickered at her friend’s terrible impression. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I said. And I sounded just like that.”

“Shut up. You did!”

“Uh huh. Uh huh. Sure, no. Great job.” She then smiled at her. “But fine. You were right about that. However, I feel the need to point out that a broken clock is still right once a day.”

Catra glared at her, but all the tension in her body had dissipated, and there was no real anger in her eyes. “Hardy har har. You think you’re so funny.”

Adora grabbed the blanket she’d brought, dropping the two bags of chips onto the floor before laying the blanket over her legs. She then lifted the left corner to reveal the space still between her and Catra. “Care to join me?”

Something… soft flickered across Catra’s face, but it was soon replaced by her typical ‘I don’t care about anything’ expression. She did, however, slide under the blanket next to Adora, their backs both resting against the oil barrels that shielded them from view of anyone walking down the hall.

Adora offered her one of the bags of chips, but Catra refused, adamantly avoiding eye contact with her. Adora, long since used to her friend’s… well, that was pretty normal behavior for Catra, so she simply shrugged and opened a bag for herself, the crunch of her eating the only sound in the otherwise silent hallway.

“Do you want to steal all of Kyle’s belts tomorrow?” Catra suddenly blurted, an unmistakable blush growing on her features.

The seeming randomness of the question as well as Catra’s borderline-aggressive asking startled Adora and then prompted her to burst out laughing, which made Catra’s face turn a darker shade of red. “Oh my God. So his pants will either fall down all day or he’ll have to borrow one of Rogelio’s belts, which won’t be even close to fitting him.” She was snorting with laughter at this point, and had to wipe a stray tear from her face. “Obviously I want to do that.”

Adora could tell that Catra was trying to pretend it was no big deal that she’d agreed, but she knew her friend’s habits too well. Her ears had perked up - she was happy. “Cool. It’ll be fun.”

“It’ll be hilarious,” Adora countered, grinning. She then gave Catra a softer smile. “And I accept your apology for pranking Kyle today without me. No hard feelings.”

“I - I didn’t apologize for anything!” Catra protested, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m not sorry I pranked Kyle without you!”

“Uh huh. Sure you’re not.”

Catra glared at her, but her glare soon morphed into a mischievous smirk as she snatched a handful of chips from Adora’s bag.

“Hey!” Adora turned her body away, clutching her chips to her chest. “I offered you your own bag, and you turned it down! You don’t get to steal any of mine just because you missed your chance.”

“But I don’t want a whole bag.” Catra began eating the chips she’d stolen before grinning at her. “I just wanted a few. And yours were readily available.”

Adora sighed. Well, it wasn’t like they didn’t always end up sharing food. “Fine. But you’re ridiculous.”

“You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I wanna be Force Captain so badly I’m willing to break my arm’.”

“I didn’t break my arm. I just bruised my shoulder a little.” Catra glared at her. “Okay, a lot. But I’ll be fine in a few days!”

“Yeah, well, have fun hiding it from Shadow Weaver until then. It was nice knowing you.”

Adora winced. She was not looking forward to that.

Catra seemed to notice her expression, as she groaned and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ugh, fine. I’ll help you hide it from her.”

Adora beamed. “Aw, really?”

Catra glared at her again. “This is not because I like you. I just don’t want to see you pouting for the next week because you think you ruined your chances of becoming Force Captain. You’re annoying when you’re sad.”

Adora was tempted to fire back a teasing comment, but a more serious question nagged at the back of her mind. “Do you think I did?” she asked quietly. “Ruined my chances, I mean.”

“Oh my God, Adora, really? Are you kidding -” Catra glanced at Adora, who tried not to flinch under her friend’s gaze. “Oh. You’re… serious.”

“It - It doesn’t matter,” Adora hastily said, embarrassed at her moment of insecurity. Ugh, she could feel her face getting red. “Forget I said anything. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Hey.” Catra’s voice was gentle, a tone unfamiliar to most who knew her. Except Adora. “You are more qualified than any other cadet here to be Force Captain, okay? A little injury that I bet you’ll shake off before the end of the week doesn’t change that.”

Adora stared at her for a moment, then felt a bashful grin breaking out across her face. “You really think so?”

Catra snorted. “Um, duh.” She then poked Adora’s nose - carefully, so as not to scratch her. “But don’t you dare tell anyone I said so. Ever. I’ve worked too hard to perfect my ‘I don’t give a shit’ persona for you to ruin it with one sentimental moment.”

Adora laughed, and she slid down some from sitting upright in order to lean her head against Catra’s shoulder. “Aw. I knew you liked me.”

“Oh, whatever,” Catra grumbled, though there was no bite to her words. “You’re only fooling yourself.”

Adora couldn’t help but sigh in contentment. “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

Catra stiffened, and Adora began to panic and wondered if she’d accidentally taken their emotional openness a step too far, but then she felt Catra relax. “Yeah. I know.” She hesitated, then rested her head on top of Adora’s.

For Catra, that was a huge step forward in… er, being able to connect to other people at all, really. And not wanting to ruin the moment, Adora simply smiled, pulling the blanket up closer to both of them. The blanket’s warmth combined with the dull vibrations of Catra’s quiet purring was enough to make her drowsy, and soon she found her eyelids fluttering shut. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the feeling of someone’s hands slipping gently into hers.

Adora smiled.

Everything was perfect.

~*~

thank you for reading!

#my writing #catradora #spop catradora #spop catra #spop adora #spop spoilers #not really tho #she ra #catra #adora #catradora fluff #pre relationship #fanfiction #she ra season five #catradora prompt

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years

Text

Creep (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x fem!Reader

Genre: Slight spice? Slice of life? Some cringe? (College!AU)

Summary: Your roommate forces you to a dorm hangout with her boyfriend where you get hit on by a creep, only to have Bakugou come along and help you with the situation.

Word count: 1,996

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Honestly I wasn’t expecting much from this idea I had and I thought it would be stupid and short, but it turned into something else that I hope you guys like? Let me know your thoughts on this!

At least the party isn't terribly noisy, it's more like a casual hangout. Everyone there is split into smaller groups, some playing Mario Kart on the TV while others huddle in the corner where they moved the table to play Jenga. Another fold-up table in the far corner of the common room is crammed with snacks and soft drinks. I don't really recognize any of the people here. A few faces are from Ochaco's group of friends, maybe I recognize a handful from my classes, the rest are all strangers.

My dear roommate wanted me to come out and join her and her boyfriend's group of friends, but I'd rather be in our room by myself drowning in my sorrows and binge-watching shows on my laptop.

Ochaco immediately lights up and flies over to the familiar mess of green hair hanging out near the Jenga table. "Deku!"

The freckled-face boy turns around at the sound of his name and beams as his girlfriend throws herself onto him. "Hey, honey," he pecks her forehead sweetly before smiling politely at me. "Glad you made it, (Y/n)!"

I return the favor with a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, Ochaco was pretty persuasive."

Midoriya motions to the tall blond boy with a fluffy tail next to him. "This is my friend, Ojiro, it's his room."

The boy hums and rubs the back of his neck. "It's not exactly my party though. Sero and Kaminari wanted a bigger place to invite all their friends, and I happened to live in a suite. My suitemates are out studying for the night."

Poor guy got swindled by his friends like I did. "Hopefully, no one breaks anything while we're here," I offer some assurance to the visibly uncomfortable blond.

"We'll stay back to help you clean up if you want!" Midoriya offers enthusiastically. "Todoroki won't mind if I come back to our room late."

We? I touch Ochaco's shoulder, "I'm gonna get a drink." There's no way I'm getting involved in any of that. I have a test coming up this week and I need enough time to stress about how anxious and stressed I am over studying.

I pour myself a soda and start snacking on some chips out of the bowls.

"You idiot! How dare you get me like that!"

Why do I know that voice? Turning slowly around, my gaze lands on one of the figures on the couch in front of the TV. Prickly, ash blond hair peeks out from behind a black hood, the boy's sharp features and scarlet eyes contorted into a death glare as he stares at the screen. His jaw is tight as he grounds his teeth together in concentration and his leg bounces.

I swear I know who he is, but it's not coming to me.

The ending whistle blows from the TV as the Toad in the top right corner crosses the finish line. "That's the game Bakugou," the red-head with too much gel in his hair leans back and rests the controller on his knee. "All's fair in love, war, and gaming."

Oh, I think I know who he is now. He's in one of my elective classes, he usually sits in the back of the room with his hood up and sometimes takes a nap. From what I perceived, he wasn't much of a talker, and when he was called on once, he seems pretty smart. It's just strange to hear him say something, let alone be that aggressive.

He throws the controller down onto his seat in a huff. "One more race, I'll kill you in this one!"

"You're on!"

I shake my head to myself, continuing to gather more snacks onto a plate. I guess first appearances really can be deceiving.

"Why, hello there."

The high pitched voice trying to sound deeper is a strange combination, I don't know what I expect to see paired with it. At first when I turn my head, there's nothing. Looking down though, is a small boy who doesn't even look like he belongs in college, but rather an elementary school child. His strangely round purple hair gives me an impression of a mohawk.

I cock an eyebrow. "Uh, hi?" How am I supposed to react to this?

He tries to be smooth and lean on the table. Oh no, I see where this is going. "I haven't seen you around here before."

I don't know if I want to laugh at how ridiculous this looks or roll my eyes at me being hit on. "I'm not part of this friend group."

The little purple guy slides a little closer to me, and I notice him scan me up and down. The vibe I'm getting from him isn't kind at all. I almost wish I hadn't worn my outfit, even though the only skin showing is the small amount of stomach peeking through the top of my fishnets and ripped jeans.

"You're about a B, right?" he wiggles his eyebrows.

He better be talking about my GPA or else he'll be tasting my fists. "I'm sorry?"

"Or a C?" He taps his chin in thought, eyes trained straight at my chest.

While I'm not the kind of person who would rudely reject someone outright, I don't mind putting a pervert in his place. I roll my shoulders and put my drink down on the table. "You-"

Before I can finish, there's a presence next to me who pushes a hand down on the boy's head. "Hey, loser! Go be creepy somewhere else, she's taken!"

The smaller boy grows pale and runs off to the other side of the room screaming like a little girl.

The dark hooded figure next to me is definitely intimidating, until I realize it's Bakugou. His scowl relaxes as he catches my gaze. "You okay? He didn't creep you out too much, did he?"

"He did, but I was gonna take care of him," I shrug.

Bakugou removes his hood with a huff. "You looked uncomfortable, I wanted to help just in case."

I might have lingered over his features and his now-exposed neck just a second too long. He's much more handsome up close, I hate to admit it. "Thanks, but I hope you didn't do that just so you can get lucky."

"Please," he rolls his red eyes before smirking and sticking his hands in his pockets, "I have other ways to score, I just haven't tried any of them yet."

I smirk back at him, "Like saying I'm taken? By you?"

The assumption seems to have wounded him, he snorts, "That's such a dumb trick, I wouldn't resort to something like that." He nods towards the little grape, "He's much more afraid of being pummeled by your hypothetical boyfriend."

"Guess so," I hum in agreement, refilling my cup.

Bakugou leans back against the wall next to me. "You're in that literature class on Mondays and Wednesdays, right?"

"Yup."

The little victory seems like a bigger deal to him as a toothy smile spreads across his face. "I knew it. You're that kid in the front who always reacts to everything she says, but you don't participate in the discussion."

I pause for a moment, a little taken off guard that he noticed me. "That doesn't sound like you're a creepy stalker at all. I only know you as the kid who sometimes sleeps in the back of the room."

His proud gaze is fixed on me. "It's because I'm in the back of the class and no one notices me that I can observe people very well."

The intensity of his crimson eyes slows my reaction time, but I still manage a chuckle. "That little guy may be a pervert, but you're the real creep." I take a chip from the bowl and eat it without breaking eye contact.

Bakugou's gaze flickers down to my nails against the red plastic cup. "Black nail polish, huh? I see you're the edgy type."

I scan him up and down, quirking an eyebrow. "Says the one with a chain hanging off his jeans."

The corner of his lip turns up. "Touche."

When he reaches out to pick something off my hair, I jump back a bit. Through our little game of trying to verbally one-up each other, I hadn't realized our close proximity. His finger had lightly brushed my hairline, a slight tingle blooming on my face.

He smirks. "You had a speck of dust in your hair, don't be so jumpy."

A breath releases from me, unknowingly being held back. Something stirs in me as I watch his teasing expression on me. There's an inexplicable pull between us, I can't deny it. "Weren't you supposed to be playing with your friends over there?" I try to pass it off casually.

I don't know if it's intentional, but he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. "They can have fun without me. Meeting someone new is more exciting." Bakugou looks around. "You wanna get out of here? It's getting noisy."

Tilting my head, I raise a brow. "That sounds like you're going to kill me, creepy stalker."

Closing the distance between us, he taunts me, "So what are you gonna do about it?"

We stay there for a while, staring each other down. A heated chemistry bubbles between us, neither of us wanting to look away. The faint scent of his cologne dancing across my nose coupled with the hint of teasing mixed with an underlying desire in his eyes mesmerizes me.

The back of his finger brushes my cheek lightly. "This is the part where you answer, sweetie." Another calloused hand brushes my waist, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. "Before this creep manages to kidnap you."

My mind scrambles to find a suitable comeback, failing to formulate words into a coherent thought. Bakugou's eyes flicker down to my lips as I do his, our faces getting closer to each other.

RIIIIIIIIIINGGGG

Both of us pull away at the blaring fire alarm, looking around wildly through our disorientation.

"Who the hell triggered the fire alarm at this time of night?!" one of the guys screams out.

Ochaco rushes up to us. "We should probably hurry down with the rest of the building. Let's go!"

I start following her out of the room, casting a glance backward to see Bakugou and his friend following behind us.

"Guess that means the party's over," Midoriya sighs in front of us. "It's probably for the best though, we have class early tomorrow."

I'm still dazed as all the students at our get-together mesh with other students in the building, filing down the stairs outside the doors into the brisk night, awakening my senses.

I run my hands up and down my arms to keep warm against the slight chill. "I should've brought a jacket," I mumble, scanning the sea of students.

"That's another reason you need a boyfriend," Ochaco beams, almost rubbing it in my face that Midoriya gave her his demin jacket.

"Oh, rub it in why don't you?" I groan. It's not unbearably cold, but the longer we have to stand out here, the more I know I'll feel it.

Cloth wraps around my shoulders carrying a familiar scent. Bakugou's eyes meet mine with a smug grin. "You looked cold so I'm giving you my hoodie. Give it back to me in class." His warm hands purposely linger and trace down my cold arms before he goes back to his group and I notice he's wearing a slightly fitted black long-sleeve shirt.

Ochaco's whistling snaps my attention back. Midoriya's eyes widen to the size of golf balls as he stares at me. He looks scared out of his mind.

My eyes dart between the two of them, the differing reactions flustering me. "What?"

My roommate wiggles her eyebrows at me. "I saw you guys talking to each other, but I didn't know you were already this close, (Y/n)."

Sequel

#Bakugou x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #college!AU #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenario #bakugou spice #female reader #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction

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binniedeactivated · 4 years

Note

That whole denying them bc of race or career issues is a really good angst prompt...just saying👀👀

a/n; this was way past due so I hope my precious bby forgives me <3 @crocsonkrocsjams (based on her)

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. || 𝐡.𝐤

─▸🖤 ❝ @[@𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐬𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠.. ]

✎𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐡𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

✎ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

✎ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.3k

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞? 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞? 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒; 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

he rushed through the streets like a madman, coddling snacks in his hand while trying to shield his face. no, it wasn’t cold outside.

heuning kai just didn’t want to be seen.

it was already late in the night, he snuck out of the hotel rooms and who knew where the saesangs were hiding. they could’ve jumped out of a bush and snapped his picture in a heartbeat. but kai was determined to get to her house and he refused to deny the fact that he was thinking about her all day.

throughout the whole world tour even, He’d been anticipating touring the United States for this very reason. The goodnight and good morning texts, flirty messages and emojis just weren’t enough. He couldn’t wait to see her and he hasn’t seen her since the last time Tomorrow by Together toured the US.

and that was years ago.

he quickly fixed himself up a bit and made his way up her apartment stairs with his heart thumping obnoxiously in his chest. he didn’t wear anything too fancy, an oversized hoodie with baggy jeans and sneakers maybe, but that was just how their relationship was. they never had to dress up for one another.

finally making it to her door he knocks softly. kai’s mind ran wild. he was almost shaking with anticipation until she finally unlocks the door. his smile was wide and he hugged her gratefully. and she looked just as beautiful since he last saw her. deep sea green eyes, almond colored skin and gorgeous fluffed brown hair.

hesitantly but surely she hugged him back. she couldn’t deny the fact that she was happy to see him.

“kaia,”. he started, “you look so pretty”. he complimented while towering over her thick five foot five frame. she was wearing a black graphic band t-shirt and some simple spandex shorts. just something comfy for the night since she normally slept naked. but none of that would be happening while kai was around at least.

she mutters a small thank you while he takes his jacket off.

“why are you acting so shy? you didn’t miss me?”. kai teases.

“of course I missed you. How was the show?”.

“it was nice you should’ve came”.

she rolls her eyes playfully, “you know damn well I’m not getting caught up with you and your crazy fans”.

kai laughs while swiping his thumb over her cheek softly. “aren’t you my fan too?”.

she stifles a blush. in a way she hated how flirty kai was but loved it all at once. she smiles instead, “what snacks did you get us?”.

“all of your favorites. I got those hot chips you like from the corner store down the street”.

she furrows a brow, “corner store?”.

“yeah”.

“you went to the corner store by yourself at this time of night? why didn’t you tell me I would’ve came with you”.

he pinches her doughy cheeks as if she were a child. “aw was my little baby worried sick? i’m a big boy I can handle a corner store at 2am”.

“oh yeah? and what if someone tries to rob you? what’s your next move?”.

kai sucks his teeth and walks to plop himself down on the living room couch. “as long as they don’t rob me of your love!”. kai shouts in the cringiest voice possible. she laughs, “kai!”.

“then I’m fine!”. he continues like the silly boy he was. “seriously if you don’t hurry over here I’m stealing your honeybun”. he threatens while digging through the white plastic bag for it. she rushes behind the couch to try and snatch it from his hands but nevertheless kai moves away from her instead.

“kai you better not!”. she shrieks playfully and kai laugh hysterically, “oh! is this hot cheetos too?”. she makes her way to the other side of the couch to try and snatch it from his hands that way but no matter what he’d always raise the bag higher, away from her short arm’s reach.

“come on kai give it back”. she reaches desperately, not realizing that kai had her right where he wanted her.

“give me a kiss and I’ll give it back”. he grins.

she laughs, “boy! give me my snacks back”.

he puckers his lips while grabbing her body and wrestling her to the floor. “please kaia please please please give me a kiss!”. he whines into the crook of her neck. she yelps at the sudden shift in positions.

“why am I on the floor?”.

“because you’re being mean to me”.

“you’re the one holding my food hostage”.

he shadows his lips over hers suddenly making her heart thump. it isn’t like she hadn’t kissed him before but she always got the same spark whenever she did almost as if she first met him.

“just one?”. he raises the intonation in a question like manner without really asking a question, he just went for it.

he sparked the flame between them both layering his delicate lips on hers with his arms caging her body. as soon as she felt his lips she hated how she instantly thought about when he’d be going back. when it was time for him to leave and go back to korea leaving her lonely once again. so for that very reason she kisses him harder hoping it would be enough to suppress the emotions she felt in his absence.

kai raises her chin a little deepening the kiss loathing in the softness of her lips and the unyielding love that ran through his veins. if the boys found out where kai was he’d be a dead man. but it was anything for her. absolutely anything. he caresses her cheeks, unapologetically using his tongue whenever he got the chance.

her stomach churned beneath him. she was nervous and kai was eager. sometimes she felt so out of place. what was kai doing being with someone like her? kissing her? loving her?

was it worth it?

she falters. kai detaches his lips from hers slowly and carefully wondering what was wrong. he kind of already had an idea though.

“you know I love you, right?”.

she nods, “I know kai. and that’s the problem”.

“why is it a problem?”.

“was it a hassle to get here? don’t you ever get tired of hiding?”.

kai shakes his head, “it’s not that I’m hiding it’s just--”.

“you’re hiding me? right?”.

“what are you talking about baby? where’s all this coming from?”.

“I don’t want to be the one that ruins your career kai. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself”.

“you’re not ruining my career. Idols date all the time so what?”.

“yeah sure, idols date all the time. but they don’t date black or brown people kai”.

“why are you making it about race? you know I don’t care about what color you are”.

“but the media does”.

“so?”.

“so what do you think that means for you? you’ll get shitted on by the media, you’ll get lectured and in trouble by Bighit-- i don’t want any of that to happen”.

kai sighs and intertwines his fingers with hers, kissing the back of her hand.

“we’ll be fine I promise”.

“but for how long? it’s only a matter of time before you get caught”.

“why are you being like this? when we first started dating we talked about this and we both decided that we didn’t care about what anyone has to say about us”.

“well I care now kai. your group is getting more known which only makes you a bigger target. you’re their maknae, the baby, the innocent boy who does no wrong. this type of shit can tear your image down beyond repair”.

“i don’t care about any of that”.

“how? you worked hard to get where you are didn’t you? not every teenage boy with a passion for singing and dancing get to debut under one of the biggest companies in korea”.

“why do you care so much? do you not want to be with me or something?”.

“kai I love you but I’m not worth it. who am I? just a black/mexican girl living in this small town-no one knows my name, I’m not rich, I get lonely sometimes, I’m bigger than most girls---”.

“i don’t care about that stuff so stop it. why are you belittling yourself like that?”.

“because why do you even love me kai? what is it? am I ‘exotic’ to you? are you using me to make yourself seem more open minded? Am I one of many colored girls that you mess with while you’re touring?”.

“stop fucking talking like that. you know none of that is true”.

“I don’t think we should keep continuing this”.

kai could feel his heart shatter at the sound of her words. “what?”.

“I don’t know about this relationship anymore”.

he searches in her eyes desperately trying to find a clue. “what don’t you know about it? we love each other so we should be together no matter what anyone has to say”.

“not at the expense of your career. maybe, maybe someday we can make this work but definitely not now”.

kai swallows the lump in his throat, “so that’s it? you’re not even going to fight for us? after everything?”.

she shakes her head. “not right now kai. just not right now”. she mumbles meekly. kai could feel the fresh hot tears well into his eyes. he was angry and confused but most importantly he was blinded by love. he couldn’t believe she was willing to throw away everything they built just to protect his image. especially when he didn’t even care.

he got up from the floor and slid his jacket back over his shoulders trying to hide his tears and frustration as best as he could. as bad as she felt in her heart she felt like it was the right thing to do. either this, or she was going to have to face the harsh treatment from the public when they found out their precious heuning kai was dating a brown girl.

but even her own heart broke at the sight of kai’s tears.

“I’m only trying to protect you kai”.

halfway out of the door already he sniffled before he replied, “protect me or protect yourself?”.

“kai i’m sorr--”.

“no. I’m sorry for thinking that you loved me just as much as i loved you. thinking maybe you’d be fearless for me just as fearless as I am for you. you think I care that you’re black kaia? do you think that I care that you’re from a town in the middle of nowhere, that no one really knows who you are, that you’re thicker than most girls and look nothing like the girl idols you see on tv? I don’t care about any of that shit. you’re beautiful and you have a heart made of gold and that’s all that matters to me. you love me so perfectly. you love me how I want to be loved and that’s what I love about you. you think you’re just a worthless being but--

but I love you because you’re so much more than that”.

#heuning kai #angst #kai drabble #heuning kai drabble

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kairos-polaris · 3 years

Text

It's a rich man's world

Rose and Doctor dance with ABBA on the background. Rose thinks how relatable Money, Money, Money is. She is still getting used to the new, new Doctor

****

The new, new Doctor was... different. He appeared and acted younger. He was... lighter somehow. This Doctor joked and laughed. He couldn't stay in one place for longer than one minute. But no matter how much he had changed on the outside everything in him still screamed "Doctor. That's Doctor" and Rose loved it.

They were sitting in the console room and Rose knew that their last adventure affected the Doctor more than he admitted. What did the thing in the Pit tell him? Rose just shook her head and stood up.

"Can you please turn on the music?" Rose asked softly. Doctor didn't even have time to answer her as ABBA's Dancing Queen started playing.

Rose loved this song. Her mom used to spend a lot of time listening to recordings of Pete's favourite songs. But unlike Rose, Jackie didn't like Money, Money, Money. "It's too relatable," she used to say.

Rose shakes her head, trying to stop thinking about her mother and their small flat on the Estates. Instead she smiles softly and wiggles her fingers. Doctor just sighs but doesn't move.

Her Doctor with big ears and leather jacket would refuse to dance with her. He would grumble about apes and their primitive traditions. It would take her several minutes of staring and biting her lip to make him agree to dance with her

This Doctor is much more...active. He is the one to lead her in a dance and that's why his reaction doesn't make any sense. She quirks her eyebrow, silently asking "What's wrong?'

"I'm still a little bit shaken after jumping into the Pit." he suddenly looks so vulnerable that Rose feels her heart break for him. "Maybe, you can dance alone? Did you know that physical exercises release endorphins, the hormones of happiness, Rose Tyler?" Rose doesn't have time to react as the Doctor is rambling about different hormones and how they affect humans.

"Doctor," she touches his arm gently, making him look at her. "It's okay if you don't want to dance with me. I don't want you to do something you are uncomfortable with. I can dance by myself."

Doctor stays silent for the next several minutes. Rose turns around, ready to leave, when the Doctor crushes her in a hug. Rose lets out a content sigh because hugging the Doctor always feels good. He smells like Time and Space and motor oil and dust.

They are standing like that until the song changes and Money, Money, Money starts playing. The Doctor grins at her and leads to an open space.

"You wanted to dance, Rose Tyler! How can I deny you something so simple?" Doctor is all grins again. He's jumping like a three years old in a sugar rush. He's the one wiggling his fingers now and Rose just takes his hand with a small smile. She did want to dance with him, after all.

I work all night, I work all day, to pay the bills I have to pay

Ain't it sad

And still there never seems to be a single penny left for me

Shopgirls don't have a big salary and Rose knew it firsthand. She worked hard, and her mother worked hard. But there still was a crippling fear of losing her job and their flat. She loved it no matter how crappy it was.

Unfortunately, it was almost impossible to get a high paying job without a formal education. And Rose had to pay a debt before thinking about her education.

"That's what you get for dropping out of school, girl." And Rose is tired of repeating that yes, she knows that now. She knows that she was young and irresponsible. She knows that dropping out was one of her biggest mistakes. But Rose also knew that it didn't make her less important or worthy of good things (right?).

In my dreams I have a plan

If I got me a wealthy man

I wouldn't have to work at all, I'd fool around and have a ball

The thing is that almost every girl wants to marry a rich man. And Rose wanted it, too. She dreamed about meeting a young and handsome man with a thick wallet. But did she want a rich man or that particular type of security only money can offer? Did she want to buy expensive clothes and accessories or did she want to not worry about bills and whether or not her paycheck would be enough? Did she need a big villa or just a place she could call her own?

Money, money, money

Must be funny

In the rich man's world

TARDIS had a lot of expensive things. Things that could make her feel rich and powerful. And the Doctor had a psychic paper that let them be whoever they wanted or needed to.

The Doctor shows her different planets that have their own holidays and festivals. They go to balls and high-end events.

But she felt like an imposter. She wasn't educated or sophisticated. "Unlike Madame de Pompadour," Rose thought bitterly and immediately felt ashamed. It wasn't the woman's fault the Doctor had liked her. Hating a girl because of jealousy isn't cool.

A man like that is hard to find but I can't get him off my mind

The Doctor wasn't a rich man in the usual understanding of wealth. He didn't own a successful company, wasn't a politician. He had no stable job ("I actually do, Rose Tyler!" he told her once. "I've been working with UNIT since my third body. They even pay me money!" Rose just smiled innocently and then asked why he hadn't paid for his chips.)

So I must leave, I'll have to go

To Las Vegas or Monaco

And win a fortune in a game, my life will never be the same

Jackie Tyler would call the Doctor poor but for Rose he was the richest man in the entire Universe. He gave her stars and planets. He showed her the most breathtaking landscapes. He took her hand and turned her world around. Rose Tyler knew she would never be as exited as she was every time TARDIS landed. And in the end, his companionship was the most expensive and important thing she's ever been offered.

How can anything live up to Time And Relative Dimensions In Space? How can she find anything better than standing on an alien soil for the first time? How can she find anything better than Doctor's stories about everything in the Universe?

Rose knows that there's a possibility that she will find something better one day. One day the Doctor will leave her on Earth and won't look back. It won't be his first time doing so, after all. Because that man, time lord, believes he knows what best for everyone. He runs and runs, leaving everyone dear behind. On most days Rose tends to ignore it but at night, when she can't sleep, Rose is scared. She doesn't want to be left behind, she doesn't want to have a "normal" life and beans on toast.

"You should go to sleep, Rose. I know you are tired," Doctor says softly after she stifles another yawn. They untangle and Rose offers him a small smile.

"Goodnight, Doctor." Rose doesn't go to her room immediately, lingers in the console room. She waits for him to say "there are nights or days on TARDIS, Rose Tyler" but he stays silent. Rose sighs softly and goes to her room. She was actually tired. She can deal with the aftermath of today's adventure tomorrow

#doctor who #doctor and rose #they dance #like dancefloor dancing #tenth doctor #rose tyler #rose relates to money money money by abba #one shot

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cirrius-akiyo · 4 years

Text

HOLD ON (LET'S GO HOME)

"I kissed Ana." Eddie confessed.

Buck stopped arranging the pillows on the bed and shifted his body so he is facing Eddie. His face remains unreadable.

"Were you drunk?" Buck simply asked as if that will explain Eddie's behaviour.

Eddie tries not to scoff. Even during this moment Buck is still trying to find any loophole to excuse Eddie's behaviour.

"No, Evan. How can I get drunk at a parents-teachers meeting." There is no excuse for what he did. Ana leaned in and Eddie allowed her to. The kiss was chaste, more like a peck, but still a kiss nonetheless. A kiss that should not had happened because Eddie has a husband that is coming home tonight from a long shift. Although he literally ran away after admonishing Ana, he still can't help feeling like he had cheated on Buck. Maybe he already did.

"I wasn't thinking." Eddie takes a step towards Buck who is still remain completely stoic at the end corner of their bed. He pulls Buck's hands into his, intertwined their fingers together. "And I am so sorry. For my behaviour. For causing you pain. I don't know what got into me when she leaned in. I did not reciprocate but I did not stop her either. Not that excuse myself but I just..." His apologies fell short when he saw Buck's eyes are brimming with fresh tears.

At that moment Eddie resolute himself to make up to Buck for as long as he lives.

"Loving and fighting

Accusing, denying

I can't imagine a world with you gone

The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of

I'd be so lost if you left me alone"

///

The day after his confession flees without any major event. Buck had cried himself to sleep while curling into Eddie's side that night and Eddie had hold him through it all, showering Buck with endless apologies and sweet nothings. Not that Eddie got much sleep himself. Partly because of the guilt, and partly because he is afraid that Buck might leave while he was asleep.

When the morning comes, Eddie kissed Buck awake. Trying to rewrite the foreign imprint of Ana's lips with his husband's. Buck had smiled softly at him, and for a while, Eddie believed that everything will be okay.

They still work seamlessly that morning, falling between peaceful silence and hectic small calls. Buck is still a constant presence beside him, putting hope in their relationship. Buck is not pulling neither is he pushing Eddie away and Eddie take that as a good sign eventhough he is still berating himself for taking Buck's kindness and forgiving nature for granted.

It was short moment, but sometimes Eddie can see his husband scrunching his eyes shut as if in pain. Maybe the night-long crying finally catching up with Buck.

"Are you okay, Evan?" Eddie coaxed. Hand creeping up to the crook between Buck's shoulder and neck, feeling the stiff muscle there.

He can see Buck wills the pain away again. "I will be." Buck assures him.

It's funny to see how now Eddie seems to need the assurance when he knows Buck must have felt invalidated. That Buck must have thought that his inadequacy that prompted Eddie to kiss Ana. Or letting Ana kissed him, but that doesn't matter. He's guilty and that's the fact he needs to live with from now on.

But the pain doesn't seem to go away. Buck looks paler as the day goes by, stubbornly evading any prodding from Hen or Chimney.

It all come down when Buck all but running towards the toilet stall, retching whatever lunch Bobby has whisked up that afternoon. Eddie stood vigil beside him immediately, hand hasn't stop stroking Buck's back.

After a while, the retching stop and Eddie helps his husband to the sink.

"Maybe it's migraine." Buck supplies after rinsing his mouth. He is leaning sideway on the sink with Eddie's firm grip still tight on hips.

Eddie might had agreed for a moment there, until Buck's eyes rolled back into his skull as he slumped forward, falling into a heap while Eddie barely catching him.

Eddie knows he yells and scream for help as soon as they hit the floor. But it felt like eternity from when the help arrives and him straddling his unconscious husband in his lap.

"You locked yourself in the bathroom

Lying on the floor when I break through

I pull you in to feel your heartbeat

Can you hear me screaming "Please don't leave me"

///

Time feels like it was stretched to eternity during the ambulance ride to the hospital. Buck was in and out of consciousness, alternating between throwing up biles, haze unresponsiveness and sudden screaming in pain. His pulse is getting weaker but they still don't know what is wrong with him. With his history of medical scares, it could be anything.

"Evan, can you hear me, sweetheart?" Eddie has asked when he saw Buck's eyes were opened albeit in small slits, searching for any sign of recognition. It was futile.

"Hold on, I still want you

Come back, I still need you

Let me take your hand, I'll make it right

I swear to love you all my life

Hold on, I still need you"

///

It was an aneurysm.

The MRI confirms it and in less than one hour, Eddie needs to sign the consent to surgery form.

Eddie knows fear. Eddie knows death. He had made peace with them even since he enlisted for the first time. It has been so long since Eddie feels this terrified. Terrified for his husband if something goes wrong, and if he survives, the complications that often warranted with this illness.

"A long endless highway, you're silent beside me

Drivin' a nightmare I can't escape from

Helplessly praying, the light isn't fadin'

Hiding the shock and the chill in my bones"

///

After four and half grueling hours, Buck is back in ICU. Now all they can do is to wait for him to wake up, and from there, Buck needs to reach a two weeks mark without any or minimal complication to be on the safe side. Even when they reach the point is still a no guarantee that his husband might come back scatheless from this.

Eddie tries to think to the moments that lead to this. Was he the breaking point of Buck's ruptured aneurysm? Had his confession literally killing his husband softly from the inside? Was it better to keep his mistake hidden?

Eddie slowly took sight of his husband still form. His sunken eyes. His pale skin. Had he caused that? If he thinks he feel enough remorse and guilt yesterday, he doesn't know what is he even feeling right now.

"Evan, I don't know if you'll hear me, but please, find your way back to me. Please don't leave me, darling." Eddie pleads and begs to every deity there is for his husband to come back home.

"They took you away on a table

I pace back and forth as you lay still

They pull you in to feel your heartbeat

Can you hear me screaming, "Please don't leave me"

///

Buck wakes up sometimes in the wee hours of the morning, screaming silently in pain while fighting against the tube in his throat.

Eddie continue to hold his hand afterwards, never letting it go. As if that would prevent Buck from slipping away because God knows he is not prepared. He'll never be.

Buck is still not lucid enough to hold a proper conversation. He is still high from the medications, but Eddie will take anything the universe throws at him as long as Buck's alive and awake.

"Hold on, I still want you

Come back, I still need you

Let me take your hand, I'll make it right

I swear to love you all my life

Hold on, I still need you"

///

Buck had showed signs of recognition of his surroundings. He hums when his name is called. He smiles when Eddie calls for him. Leaning his face into Eddie's welcoming palm when Eddie is caressing his jaw and Eddie could cry. Hell. He is crying for God's sake.

These few days is a rollercoaster of emotions. Eddie was literally shown among many ways he could lose Buck, be it from his stupidity or to this terrifying sickness. Proving the point that tomorrow is never guaranteed to any of them.

But for now, he is not letting his husband go.

"I don't wanna let go

I know I'm not that strong

I just wanna hear you

Saying baby, let's go home

Let's go home

Yeah, I just wanna take you home

Hold on, I still want you

Come back, I still need you"

(Hold On - Chord Overstreet)

The Parallel is here:

https://cirrius-akiyo.tumblr.com/post/622092568072798208/unpack-the-baggage-parallel-to-hold-on-lets-go

Sidenotes:- I was finishing drafting a client's divorce petition when this song came up in the mix. It is so sad to see how couples drift apart to the point that they hate the idea of the other exist in the same space with them. It is an accumulation of small things that either strengthen the bond or slowly chipped it away. Hence, small things do matter.

#songfic #cirrius akiyo's bunkdump #911 fics #buddie #buddie fanfiction #buddie fic #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #grammar don't care #rambler not writer #sickfic #buck!whump

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belladonnabear · 5 years

Text

Katsuki Bakugou X Reader: Pool Party (LEMON) (+18)

Scenario: Momo is throwing a Pool Party at her parents house and everyone in Class 1-A is invited. Bakugou wasn't planning on going until he here's that you're going and that Kaminari was planning on asking you out at the party. Things escalate...

Warning! Content contains swearing and sexual content!

"Hold still! Or I won't be able to finish up your toes!" Mina pouted.

"But it tickles!" you giggled.

The Class 3-A girls were having a relaxing time in Uraraka's dorm room on a Friday Evening. Tomorrow, they would have free time and go to Momo's place to have a pool party. So the girls were all getting gussied up for tomorrow.

"So well did you girls do today on the pop quiz?" Hagakure asked while finishing Tsuyu's fingers.

"Ugh! Don't remind me! Why does Aizawa-Sensei have to give us a stupid quiz right before the weekend! And homework on top of all of that!" Mina whined.

"I mean, you shouldn't be that surprised. It is Aizawa-Sensei after all." Jirou pointed out.

"But does he have to be such a drag all the time?" Mina frowned.

"I think I did pretty well on the test." Momo said while putting lotion on her legs.

"Deku was muttering the whole time afterwards. He really gets passionate when it comes to becoming a hero." Uraraka chimed in.

"You're always so observant when it comes to Midoriya." Hagakure teased.

"That's what happens apparently when you have a crush on someone." Tsuyu grinned.

"W-What?! I-I-It's n-n-not li-ike th-that!" Uraraka sputtered out.

"Surrre it isn't." you teased.

"You're one to talk! We know have a crush on one of the boys! You just won't tell us!" Hagakure accused.

"Pfft, not. None of the guys in our class are really boyfriend material to me!" you scoffed.

"We know you have a crush on someone missy! You should just tell us already!" Mina pointed her finger at you.

"No."

"How about a hint?" Jirou suggested.

"We promise to stop asking if you give us at least one hint! One good hint!" Momo clarified.

You stopped to think for a moment. It would stop the constant pestering that they've been doing for the last three months. You were stubborn and didn't budge to their demands. But even your patience was running thin with their insistence.

"Fine but you have to promise to never bring it up again!" you insisted.

The girls nodded as Uraraka added in. "But you have to give us an actual clue of who it is. You can't just say he's in our class or that he's brave. Give us a real hint!"

With a sigh, you rubbed the back of your head and stated. "His hair is a blonde color. That's all you need to know!"

"No way! Blonde hair?!"

"Eh? You can't be talking about Aoyama!"

"It's gotta be Kaminari! He's pretty friendly with you!"

"Yeah that's it!"

"Maybe it's Bakugou?"

"What did we just promise?" you grumbled.

"Dude, you sure about it?" Sero asked.

"I'm tired of (Y/N) being oblivious to my feelings! Tomorrow I'm going to confess to her!" Kaminari confirmed.

In the common room, Sero and Kaminari were playing on their Nintendo's as Bakugou and Kirishima were in the kitchen getting a snack. Bakugou however got distracted when he heard Kaminari's declaration. That scrawny loser was going to confess to you tomorrow?! Like hell!

Bakugou didn't know how exactly it happened. One minute he was sparring with you in hand to hand combat and the next thing he knew you had pinned him down with that hot smirk of yours. It infuriated him. After class he demanded a rematch and he got his ass handed to him again.

And again.

Then after two years Katsuki began noticing you more. He had a huge crush on you and didn’t want to admit how turned on he was by you kicking his ass. Your no nonsense attitude had struck the hot head’s heart. He was attracted to you and tried to be subtle about it. Only Kirishima ever noticed it and he was sworn to secrecy. And by sworn to secrecy, Bakugou means he threatened to kill him.

But now perverted Pikachu was going to try and make his move on you? Like hell he would let you be with that third rate extra!

“So when are you going to confess?” Sero wondered.

“At Momo’s pool party tomorrow! Not only will she be there but I’ll get to see here in a hot swimsuit!” Kaminari gushed.

The bag of Kara Mucho that was in Bakugou’s hands exploded. Bits and pieces of the bag and chips scattered on the floor. Bakugou’s face looked like it was ignited in rage as he heard the sleazy comment from Kaminari. He wanted to punch Kaminari for saying nasty shit about his girl.

What made it worse was when he was going to confess. Ponytail’s party was tomorrow! He wasn’t going to go originally and now he’s got to change his plans.

“Wooo! Nice one there Bakugou!” Sero cheered.

Kamnari and Sero snickered at the heroes explosion before turning away.

“Hey man, you okay? Your snack exploded.” Kirishima asked.

“Shut up! I’m absolutely fine!!” Bagou hollered and stormed out of the kitchen.

Kirishima followed his friend and shrugged. “If you say so.”

“Listen up shitty hair! That pool party tomorrow, we’re going!” Bakugou confirmed.

“Huh? But I thought you said going would be a waste of....ohhh. I get it now! You’re scared that Kaminari is going to sweep (Y/N) off her feet.” Kirishima teased.

“Like hell! I’m not worried about a damn thing! I just changed my mind is all!” Bakugou denied despite his cheeks fuming red.

Kirishima chuckled at his friend's obvious affection for their classmate. It’s not like Bakugou stares at her constantly, keeps asking to train with her so he could spend more time with her or helps her with her homework. Plus it was hilarious seeing the two of you banter constantly with each other. He was silently rooting for you two.

The party at Momo’s was thriving as everyone from Class 3-A managed to come. Sato was grilling the lunch for everyone, they had who can breathe underwater the longest test to which Tsu won and currently the girls were sunbathing while the boys were playing an intense game of volleyball.

“C’mon Deku! You can do better than that, can’t ya?!” Bakugou taunted.

“Dude c’mon! Don’t use your quirk!” Sero shook his head.

“Deal with it scotch tape!” Bakugou yelled.

Sunbathing was so far your favorite part of this party. Not because you wanted a tan or anything. But because you had a perfect view of Bakugou’s shirtless body. He looked real good in those swim trunks. Like something out of Playgirl magazine. His tan muscles looked ripped at every movement he made, his biceps flexing whenever he was getting ready to hit the ball and that wild smirk that made you want to kiss his stupid face.

And you were doing it all while on the sideline with your sunglasses obscuring where your eyes were. Smooth.

“Hey there (Y/N)!”

A voice quickly brought you out of your ogling and you saw Kaminari look down at you with a friendly wave.

“Hey there, how you doing?” you asked while taking a sip of your ice tea casually. As if you weren’t just eyeing your crush like a horny pornstar.

“I’m doing pretty fine if I do say so myself. And can I just say, you’re totally rocking that bikini you have on! It really suits you!” Kaminari winked.

Your cheeks went slightly pink at his compliment. You were wearing (f/c) bikini that you had found while shopping with Mina and Hagakure. They both insisted that you get it and Mina mentioned how you could use it impress your crush.

“Oh, thank you.” you scratched the back of your head.

“So what are you doing here by yourself?” he asked.

Shit.

“Uh...I was thinking about getting a tan before summer’s over. And the girls were busy goofing off in the pool so I came here by myself.” you answered.

“So that’s why they’re so lonely.” Kaminari’s eyes lit up as he leaned in closer to you.

“Wait, what looks so lonely?” you looked baffled.

“Your lips. Would they like to meet mine?” he whispered as he leaned in closer to your lips.

Before you could react, a loud slam met your ears and you saw Kaminari get flung back off your lounge chair. You briefly noted the smell of smoke before seeing what had happened to the boy. His back was to the ground, his face you couldn’t see at all. It was obstructed by a volleyball. A volleyball with smoke and ash around it.

“Bakugou! What the hell?!” Jirou scolded.

Your eyes locked onto Bakugou as you can see his chest heaving and his face twisted into something dark. You realized he had slammed the ball onto Kaminari and used his quirk in the process.

“Kaminari, you okay?” Ojiro asked as he pushed the pall off of the blonde’s face.

Kaminari gave him that look he makes when his quirk was overused and held out two thumbs up.

“Man Bakugou, your aim was waaay off on that one.” Kirishima tried to lighten the mood.

However, Bakugou stormed over to you and you felt your heart drop. What does he want with you? You had never seen him this intense before. Not even when the two of you train together. The ash blonde tossed you over his shoulder and walked off flipping everyone off. When he was gone, Kirishima tried not to laugh. Who would have thought Bakugou was going to whisk you off like prince?

Maybe not Prince Charming but a feral prince with temperamental issues.

Bakugou had taken you all the way to his parent’s house. When you finally arrived inside, he slammed the door shut and looked at you with those fierce eyes.

“Bakugou, what the hell happened-?” you began.

But then suddenly, your lips were covered by his. Your first kiss was taken by Bakugou, the man you were crushing on deeply. However, as quickly as that kiss came, he pulled away saying one word.

“Strip.”

This was turning you on and he had only said one word. However, Bakugou didn’t like that you weren’t doing as you were told.

“Are you deaf? Strip!” Bakugou snapped.

You quickly took off your bikini top and then slowly removed your bottom cover as well. You’re completely naked, in front of the man you were crushing on. Bakugou picked up your swimsuit as he looked at you with lust shining in his eyes.

“Upstairs, first room on the right.” Bakugou ordered.

“But aren’t your parents-?” you started but was caught off when he smacked your ass. The sting somehow turned you on even more at Bakugou’s dominance.

“Upstairs princess.” he sharply said.

You were used to Bakugou’s loud rampaging orders but never this elite alpha like control he had over you. Slowly, you began walking up the stairs naked and thankfully, you never saw his parents. They must have been out of the house.

You eventually approached his room and entered. It smelled so good, just like him. Then a smoldering kiss draws you in, brandishing your lips with his. Bakugou takes charge of the situation. He began pushing you in the direction of his bed. You gulped at the realization that he was going to do it with him. Your heart starts beating wildly. He settles himself between your legs and wraps them around his waist. You could his erection through his swim trunks as he begins nuzzling your neck.

Your face flushed red. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were going to have sex with Bakugou.

“Call me Katsuki. It turns me on so much more.” Katsuki ordered.

Then he pushes him swim trunks off which left both of you bare naked. Katsuki's own rough lips started to catch your lips, nibbling your lower lip, and he took over your mouth. On your mouth, he nipped and sucked. You ran your hands over his chest to his shoulders to wrap around his neck. Moans began escaping your mouth as you spread your legs some to accommodate him some more.

Katsuki then proceeded to move downwards to your neck, sucking and nipping the skin until he reached your nipple. He stared at you with a look that made you wet below your core. You wanted him. He squeezed and pulled your nipples with his hands holding your breast as you whimpered beneath him. As he grasped the one breast in one hand, he licked and sucked the other breast's nipple, sending shivers down your back as you arched.

“Katsuki!” you moaned.

He shot you a smirk. Delighted at how you sound using his first name.

“You enjoying yourself there (Y/N)? Sure seems like it. Moan louder for me!” he chuckled.

“You sure seem confident! For a virgin that is!” you shot back at him.

“You and I won’t be virgins for much longer!” Katsuki pointed out.

The hand started to trail between your breasts, your belly to rest on your pussy.

“Yes! There!”

You cry out as the two hands that encouraged you are now slowly and steadily moving in and out of you. It was then that your eyes saw something that made your arousal spike, Katsuki's erection rubbing against your thigh. As soon as you saw it, you reached for it and started stroking his hot length. He let out a heavy groan above you. He was all hard and thick. You rubbed the slit, as he began to grip your hips hard enough to bruise and pull you closer to hot blonde.

“Damn it (Y/N)!” Katsuki groaned from your ministrations.

He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine from the empty feeling. You made eye contact with Katsuki and remained that way it while you took hold of his cock. With his erection in your hand, you began to guide it to your entrance. Slowly enticing the blonde.

"Do it Katsuki...please..."

However, he reared you up onto all fours, dragging your hips against his own. You felt the hardness forcing itself into your warmth in one sharp stroke of Katsuki’s hips. A loud moan escaped your mouth as he entered your virgin walls. He brought you up on all fours, though, dragging your breasts on his own. With one quick movement of Katsuki's shoulders, you felt the hardness drive itself into your heat. After reaching your virgin walls, a loud moan escaped your mouth.

“I’m going to claim your sweet ass.”

The way he pumped his dick into the best angle made your pussy spasm inside around his thick member. Katsuki leaned into your body, pushing you into his mattress, letting his hips go to work. His back muscles helped you release another long moan. Finding a pace that matched didn't take long for the two of you. The knees had a particular thrust low and lewd moaning as Katsuki smirked.

“That’s right baby, let me take real good care of you. No one’s going to make you feel as good as I do. Ain’t that right princess?” he leaned in bit your neck.

You couldn’t even shoot out a sarcastic response. Each thrust had you seeing black, and they were coming quicker every time. Your body was working with a soft shimmy. Your hips down his cock to suck him out of his rich seed as he slammed back in. In reply, he gave a sharp grunt. Now are so close. Your cunt pulsated wonderfully around the cock of Katsuki, making waves through your body of pleasure.

“I’m…so close…so close!” you cried out.

“Say my name!” he demanded.

“K-Katsuki!” you shouted.

You whined as he smacked your ass and to your dread, started moving slower.

“Louder!” he ordered.

“Katsuki!!” you hollered.

“Keep saying my name!” he growled.

He kept thrusting into your heat with that. Katsuki started to slide his hand on the bed to brace himself while the other dropped down to your clit to taunt you gently. Of response, your legs shuddered, buckling back to bed. His thrusts quickened, constantly filling you. His dick's tip felt like rubbing your cervix, even prodding. The sensation caused your hips to move with a gentle mewl of your lips against him.

Your body shaking absolutely under his hand made sure he had it almost. Your walls pulled you over as your hot channel was packed with his thick sperm. The internal tightening as you hit your climax bringing it across the edge. To stop him from being too loud, Katsuki bit at your side. He kept thrusting into you until there was no fall left, and you were mewling more with the overstimulation. He finally pulled out and collapsed on top of you, panting as heavily as you were, lying down there until your breathing stopped.

“You came first.” you teased.

He swatted your behind to which made you giggle.

“Shit! I forgot to use a condom!” he growled.

“I’m on the pill. Don’t worry about it.” you turned around slowly wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. Katsuki leaned in and you both kissed each other. Further cementing your feelings for each other.

“Tomorrow, we’re going out on a date.” Katsuki he stated.

“Whatever you want Lord Explosion Murder.” you purred.

Everyone figured out who your crush was the next day.

Bonus:

"HEY YOU LITTLE SHIT! WHY DIDN'T YOU COOK DINNER FOR US LIKE YOU WERE SUPPOSED-?!" A woman's voice boomed.

You blushed heavily and quickly covered yourself with Katsuki's blanket. While the naked blonde was red all over. His mom just saw her son naked in bed with one of his friends.

"YOU OLD HAG! GET OUT OF HERE OR DIE!"

"TREAT ME WITH SOME RESPECT! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD AND I CAN TAKE YOU OUT OF IT!" Mitsuki threw a shoe at his face.

You began laughing hysterically as the two began bickering. Mitsuki not even caring that you were naked.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha x reader

479 notes · View notes

fanficsaremylifeline · 5 years

Text

Now that’s what you call irony

On AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21891523

*****

“Dude, going to the Museum of Science and Technology used to be a bit more interesting when we were kids”, Peter whispered quietly to Ned.

“No, it wasn't, but working with Ironman and being a scientific impossibility yourself, you're just too spoiled. And now shut it, I want to listen.” With that, Ned turned back to the front where a museum attendee told them something or other about the mechanics of... something. Or maybe something else, Peter wasn't really paying attention. Yes, he loved going to museums and the experimenting areas were kind of fun, but until they got to that point, they still had some listening to do.

Lost in his thoughts, Peter strayed a bit form the group and inspected an old Ironman suit. Mark VIII, Peter was pretty sure of that, since he was there, when that bit of circuitry that was displayed was created, scratch that, Peter was the one who had build that thing; when Mr Stark told him that Mark VIII would be displayed, Peter had extra snuck into the lab the night before the exhibition and carved his initials into the wire board. Mr Stark probably knew, but hadn't said anything.

“Show-off”, MJ murmured, as she pushed past him, all that as usual without looking up from her book. And, if Peter didn't know her the way he did, he would have probably missed the little proud grin she tried to hide there.

Yes, Peter had endlessly boasted to Ned, MJ, Aunt May and all the Avengers and it was one of the greatest joys that his work was actually in a museum. Not that anybody'd know it was his work, but still. Peter knew, and that was enough to make his chest warm with pride. Having basked in the glory for long enough, Peter turned to join his class again and bumped right into somebody else.

“Sorry, shit, I'm so sorry!”, Peter apologized as he took a quick step back.

“I'm just as much to blame”, the other guy smiled and kneeled down to pick up Peter's notepad that he had dropped. “Here you go”, he offered it, in a quite nice Southern drawl.

“Thanks”, Peter grinned back and cursed himself for the blush that crept up his cheeks right now. One nice looking guy shooting him a beautiful smile like that, and all of Peter's eloquence was out the window. Fine, admittedly, Peter wasn't all that eloquent when he wasn't flustered, but still.

“I'm Harley by the way”, the guy smiled, still holding Peter's notebook.

“Peter.”

“It's nice to meet you, Peter.” That really was a beautiful smile...

“You part of a tour or...?”

“No, I'm here by myself. New in town, you know? Just finding my way around the city, checking out the sights and stuff.”

“Cool”, Peter grinned back, “did you come here for school, then?” Harley didn't look all that much older than Peter.

“I just finished high school”, he explained. “For now I'm with a friend, who got me a job here so I could get some work experience, before I go off to College.”

“Great friend.”

“PETER!” His teacher's calling interrupted their talk.

“Sorry, gotta go. But hey”, he added, “if you on the lookout for some non-work friends to get to know the city...”

“I might just take you up on that offer”, Harley grinned. He flipped the notepad open and wrote down his phone number, before handing it over to Peter. “If you know of anything fun going on, give me a message.”

“I will”, Peter nodded and once again, blushed as intensely as his spider suit. “Right. See you 'round then, Harley.”

Peter jogged over to where his class was heading into the next showroom, but just before he too disappeared through the doors, he turned one more time, to find Harley waving at him.

.-.-.-.-.-.

“Harley”, he was greeted when walking back into the Avenger's common room. “How was your day in the city?”

“Pretty good”, he grinned at Tony. Met someone cute... But that wasn't something he could just tell the mechanic right away, he would tease Harley for the next twenty years if he did.

“Good for you then. You hungry?”

“Nah, I already ate.”

“What do you say then, a round of lab before Pepper forces us to go to bed?”

“Yeah, sounds perf...” His ringing phone interrupted him.

Unknown number: Hey Harley, it's Peter. Was just wondering: what's your stance on Lego?

Harley: I love Lego!

Peter: Great, because my friend Ned just got the Millenium Falcon set and maybe you wanna work with us on that?

Harley: Sounds good! Text me when and where and I'll be there

Peter: *thumbs up*

“Keener? You coming?”

“Yeah, sorry.” He put his phone away and tried his damnedest not to grin too much like an idiot that only a few hours after meeting him, Peter already checked in.

He didn't need to look up at Tony to know that the mechanic had his eyebrow raised. But he stayed quiet, only looked at Harley and – unsuccessfully – tried to bite down his smirk.

“Right, let's get back to work!”

.-.-.-.-.-.

“So, how long have you been in New York?”, Ned asked, as he reappeared from the carton of Legos.

“Today actually makes two weeks”, Harley answered after counting the days and weeks. It was only slightly adorable that he used his fingers for that. “And this is how you spend your Saturdays?”

“Uh, mostly, yeah...” Ned and Peter exchanged a quick look. It wasn't like Peter could tell the new guy about his arachnid-powered extra curriculars.

“But you're not into Lego.” He turned to MJ, who was sprawled out on the couch, having her nose in her book.

“Because I'm not a loser”, she made clear, not bothering to look over, though.

“Cool.” He turned back to Peter with a wide grin. “I like her.”

“You'll get over that”, MJ deadpanned. Peter was pretty sure that behind the book she was biting down her grin.

“Sure thing”, Harley chuckled, and back to work they went, getting to know each other, joking and the afternoon flew by. Until Harley's phone rang.

“Hey mechanic”, he answered it, after shrugging apologetically. “I told you I'm out. With friends. Yes, I do. No, I didn't make them up! Dude, I'm gonna hang up on you, if you don't stop this shit. Oh yes, I'll do it. Fine.” And like that, he hang up on the call and put his phone away again.

“Sorry, just my boss”, he explained.

“You talk like this to your boss?” The boys looked at him with wide eyes, even MJ glanced over her book.

“He's cool enough for that.”

Harley was just about to explain a bit further, when Peter's phone rang. Mr Stark. Well, he maybe shouldn't shock the new kid with the father-like relationship he had with Ironman, but if he didn't answer, Tony would probably fly to Ned's place, given that he had Peter chipped, in probably no time at all.

“Sorry, that's my... mentor”, he apologized and answered the call.

“Hey.”

“Pete, hey, how are you doing? You out patrolling?”

“No, I'm at Ned's, we're building the Millenium Falcon.”

“Right, your nerd stuff.” Hm, Tony sounded somewhat off.

“You alright?”, he asked, only slightly worried about him.

“Yeah, just had some kind of.. thing with another intern. And I wanted to make sure that you at least still love me.”

Peter could only roll his eyes, but smiled as he answered: “S'pose I do...”

“Wow. What a ringing endorsement... You coming by tomorrow then?”

“May's off work, we're having a day in.”

“No patrolling all weekend? I'm getting worried, you're actually turning into a responsible young adult.”

“Haha”, Peter deadpanned and only shook his head. Harley opposite him shot him some curious grins and Peter could only shrug back. “If I do, I'll call.”

“Appreciated. Right then, let me let you get back to your nerd-club.”

“Right. Oh and, by the way, I do love you.”

“Damnit, Pete”, Mr Stark got out after a few moments of silence. “I have a reputation! But yeah, I love you, too.”

“Call ended”, FRIDAY announced and Peter put his phone away, with a wide smile.

“Sorry. My mentor... He tends to have attention issues, meaning, he needs more than he can sometimes get.”

“Understatement”, MJ snorted.

“My boss is the same way.” Harley patted Peter's arm and smiled understandingly. “I get how you feel.”

It had been a few weeks since Peter and Harley met. The new kid regularly joined in on their Lego dates, and during the week, they spend more and more time together, time, that usually would have ended up as patrolling or lab time with Mr Stark. So, during a rather quiet day of stopping currently non-existent crime, Peter was more than happy when his mentor called.

“Hey Mr Stark”, Peter called out, as he sat on a roof top, letting his feet dangle.

“You patrolling?”

“That sounds more like a statement than a question”, Peter shot back, knowing full well, that Mr Stark probably looked at his location right now.

“How was Lego?”

Peter was very aware that Tony did not deny the accusations, but shrugged it of. “Was fun. We finished the Millenium Falcon!” Peter really wanted to tell Mr Stark about Harley, wanted to tell him for weeks. But the man knew him too well, two sentences in and Peter's little crush would be as plain as a bright orange elephant, dancing the cancan in a purple – green skirt.

“Wow, your story telling makes me feel like I was right there with you”, he scoffed.

“Sorry... I just know you don't really like Lego.”

“But you do, ergo it's important to me, too.”

“Aww, Mr Stark!”, Peter cooed, “your boring business stuff is important to me, too.”

“Thanks, kid”, he chuckled drily. “Means the world. But I'm serious, it seems like I haven't seen you in forever and just want to catch up.”

“You joined me on patrol only two days ago.”

“Right, but we haven't worked together in the lab in almost two months”, Tony moped.

“I know, I hate it, too”, Peter nodded. “I'm sorry that I'm so busy.”

“Not your fault”, Tony assured him, “last year of high school and being this city's favourite superhero is a lot. You're gonna come to the SI Halloween party though, right?”

“Like I'd miss that!” He already had been last year, where Thor came dressed as a unicorn. It was the most fun, ever.

“Good, I should hope so!”

“Well, then, let me let you get back to saving the city.” As Harley walked into the lab, Tony was on the phone, waving at Harley as he saw him. “Yes. Of course...” He rolled his eyes, but with the fondest smile. “Right then. You too.”

“Harley.” After hanging up, Tony turned to him.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, Spider-Man's just a bit of a pain in my ass... But so are you”, he added with a smirk.

“The universe will have its reasons for putting us in your path.”

“The universe is an asshole”, Tony made clear and nodded at Harley. “Come on, there's work to be done here.”

Harley tried to focus on the potato gun, he really did. But there were some brown curls, and hazel eyes that just didn't want to leave his mind. It was ridiculous, he'd known Peter for like seven weeks (and three days, but who was counting?) and he already had a crush on that guy. pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.

“I'm being incredibly intelligent over here and you don't seem to give two shits. What's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong, just caught in my thoughts.”

“Mhm... Thinking about something specific?” Tony's suggestive tone, paired with that smirk could only mean that Tony knew that Harley was crushing, hard.

“No, not really”, he lied, hopefully good enough for the mechanic to let it be.

“Right then.” Clearly, he did not buy one bit of it, but changed the subject nonetheless. “I told you about the Halloween party, right?”

“You did. I'm so looking forward already!”, he beamed up.

“Well, question. Do you have a date?”

“A date? Why do I need a date for the Halloween party?”

“Me and Pepper, Steve and Barnes, Clint and Laura...”

“Yeah, I got it”, Harley interrupted it. “But it's not like it's only couples, right?” Harley did not want to do that to himself, especially not since he had his own crush to nurse.

“Right then, if you don't have a date, there's this intern, in the robotics department. She's smart, sweet and...”

“And a she...”, Harley threw in. They never had the talk about his sexuality, but well, maybe now was the right time.

“Oh. Alright then, there's this other intern, he's a first semester business student, really cute too, smart and...”

“And thanks, but no.”

“Ok, then how about the guy in HR who took care of your paperwork?”

“Had a picture of a girl with hearts around it on his desk.”

“Fine.” Tony did not relent, apparently he was hell bent on finding Harley a date. “Oh, Marcus, he's an aspiring engineer, definitely gay, has a rainbow pin on his bag. And I'm pretty sure he's single and...”

“I'm already seeing someone”, Harley blurted out. Fuck. Yes, it was the only way to shut the mechanic up, but still. It was a lie.

“Wait, you are?” Tony's grimace turned from confusion, to somehow more confusion. “Who? When? What... Why did you never tell me?”

“Because you can get a little intense and I wanted to make sure that we're good, before telling you.”

“Huh.” Tony fell back on the bench, silent, pensive for a little while, before a grin broke out. “I really am an idiot, I should have known. For weeks you've been, well, not weird per se, but... Doesn't matter”, the mechanic interrupted himself. “Tell me about him! What's he like, how did you meet, how long...”

“Woah, woah, take it down a notch, will ya?” Harley raised his hands at Tony. “We met at the Science Museum, I gave him my number, he texted and we went out.”

“I want to meet him! Can I?”

Uhm, that would be a little difficult, since he did not know they were dating. His and Peter's story was just the only one in Harley's head. And now he had to convince Peter to be his fake boyfriend to meet the one and only Ironman, Tony Stark, who Peter actually had a poster of in his room!

“I'll talk to him, alright?”

“Sure. Sorry, I don't want to be pushy”, Tony apologized and put his arm around Harley's shoulder. “I just... You know, you can come to me with those things. If there are any issues, any questions or something, I'm happy to talk with you about... feelings and shit.”

“I really appreciate that, but I feel that speech would have felt more human if it came from Dum-E.” He raised an eyebrow at him and Tony's face just dropped.

“I'm trying here.” He took a deep breath. “My dad never really showed me any support and I'm just trying to break the cycle of shame. I mean what I just said.”

“Thanks”, Harley smiled and leaned against the mechanic. “Means the world.”

“Good. Now, I'm done talking feelings, unless there is something you want to say or ask.”

“Nah, I'm good. Could do with a bit of engineering, though.”

Harley: Hey man, can we meet up?

Peter: Like, right now?

Harley: Yeah... That cool?

Peter: Sure. Usual coffee shop?

Harley: See you there *thumbs up*

“Came as fast as I could!”, Peter grinned as he jogged into the café, where Harley already sat in their regular booth, with Peter's regular cherry-chocolate milkshake. “Aw, thanks man”, he smiled and slid in opposite his friend, pushing down the excited flutter that Harley knew his order.

“You look pretty winded. Did you run all the way here?”

No, I swung. “No”, he shook his head. “Getting a big head, are you?”

“Well, maybe, because you might not want to spend all that much time with me after I told you what's up.”

“Huh.” Peter searched Harley's face for clues, but found nothing but a contrite blush. “What's up then?”

“Yeah, well, so... My boss tried to set me up with everybody at the firm, and the only way I knew to shut him up was to tell him that I'm already seeing someone.”

Oh, Peter just had the hunch of an idea where this was heading.

“I didn't mention any names, but you're the only one who I know well enough to have a chance of pulling this of with.”

“So, you want to fake-date me?”, Peter summarized.

“I do.”

And Peter's heart skipped all the beats and dropped at the same time. He could be together with Harley, but none of it would be real. Peter had read too many fanfics and seen too many romcoms to think this could be a good idea. And yet...

“Sure.”

“Really?” Harley's eyes went wide and a smile spread from ear to ear. “You would be my pretend boyfriend so I can get my boss off my back?”

“Sounds like fun”, Peter shrugged, hoping his grin didn't look as forced as it felt.

“And I promise, it's gonna be one evening every now and then, not too much.”

“So he really wants to meet me?”

“We're quite close”, Harley offered as explanation. “But I'll make sure that it won't happen too often.”

Two days later, Peter and Harley were back at the coffee shop, here to be a couple and meet Harley's boss.

“Ok, I don't want you to be uncomfortable, so we don't need to do anything you don't want to do”, Harley assured him.

“Same with you”, Peter shrugged. “I can get, well, affectionate when I like someone. And luckily I like you enough to snuggle it up”, he added with a grin. Well, he not only liked Harley enough to touch him, but so much that he couldn't wait for Harley's arm around his shoulder, holding his hand, side against side... Oh, this was such a horrible idea.

“Alright, he's here”, Harley announced as a car stopped in front of the coffee shop, a weirdly familiar car. “Just one more thing. I know I didn't tell you until now who my boss is, because I know you're quite the fan.”

Shit. This was Mr Stark's car. FUCK!

“Omigod.” Peter turned beet-red and turned away. But there was no place to hide in this freaking coffee shop! Fuck, what did they get themselves into?

“Don't be nervous”, Harley whispered over, completely misreading the situation, “he's a lot less intense than you'd think.”

Peter hid his face in his hands as the door chimes rang when Tony walked into the coffee shop.

“Harley. And I assume that must be your paramour?” Oh fuck, FUCK!

“Yeah”, Harley grinned and grabbed Peter's hand, pulling him to face Mr Stark. “Tony, this is...”

“Pete?”

“Hi Mr Stark”, Peter mumbled, just hoping a hole would open in the ground and swallow him whole. Alternatively he wouldn't mind turning invisible. Or maybe the sun could explode, Peter was flexible.

“So I guess you two know each other”, Harley commented looking from one to the other.

“Yeah, so you remember that mentor I kept telling you about?”

“Oh.” Harley blushed similarly intense as Peter did, as the realization hit that this was not going to be over after one or two dinners.

Tony just stared from one to the other with wide eyes.

“Yeah, uhm, so Mr Stark”, Peter mumbled, realizing that he never actually came out to his mentor, “I'm bisexual.”

“Oh, fuck, this is a disaster”, Harley muttered under his breath; without his spider hearing Peter would probably not have heard it.

Tony was still speechless, uncomfortably so. And Peter just had to do something to break the silence. He didn't have to, though, as Tony burst out laughing, loud and heartily.

“Right.” Neither of the teens knew how to react or to interpret his laughter.

“I'm sorry, boys. I really am. This is just priceless.” Tony put a hand on each of their shoulders. “I knew you two were hiding something from me, I just didn't expect it to be each other.”

This was so fucking surreal. And this was gonna be horrible.

Eventually they managed to sit themselves down, Harley and Peter on one side of the booth, Tony on the other, not leaving them out of sight. And it was so awkward. Neither Harley nor Peter dared to touch the other and the blush on Peter's face didn't seem to die down. Not even the cold milkshake helped against the heat.

“So, I guess that'd make you the Peter I've heard so much about”, Harley eventually remarked.

“And you're the potato-gun-kid then, huh?”, Peter shot back.

“You two've been dating for what, a month? And you never figured out that you're both my pain-in-the-ass teens?”

“We did not.”

“How? I mean, I'm basically the best thing in either of your lives, so that should have come up.”

There was only one way to get out of this mostly unscathed, and that was to get back with as much sass as Peter could muster up. “Well, I guess it's safe to say that the best thing in my life is Harley.”

Next to him, Harley jumped and blushed a little. It was so adorable, Peter could just cup those cheeks and... No, not in front of Mr Stark. And not at all, because none of this was really real, was it?

“Well. I already prepared my 'you better do right by my Harley'-speech. But since it's pretty much the same as my 'you better do right by my Peter'-speech, I feel like it's a little superfluous.” As the humour of the situation ebbed away, Tony looked somewhat concerned. “Maybe I need my coffee Irish...”

“You're sober”, both boys answered in unison.

“I'm your boss, not the other way around.”

“We'll tell Pepper.”

“You little shits...” Tony pointed at the two with his eyebrows raised. “Damnit, you two really deserve each other.”

Harley grinned over at Peter, similarly skew as Peter felt. “Yeah, I think we might.”

“You tell him?”, Tony mumbled, as Harley got up and got the 'lovebirds' another set of milkshakes.

“Not yet”, Peter whispered back, blushing again. He was in a fake relationship with a guy he really crushed on and kept half his identity a secret from him. This was just destined for absolute disaster.

“You think it's wise to keep secrets in a relationship?”

You mean like lying to your father figure about dating his other pseudo-son?

Peter just shrugged. “Up until an hour ago, I thought I could keep him away from all the Avengers madness. But since that ain't gonna happen...”

“I'll keep my mouth shut, if that's what you want.”

“Thanks”, he nodded and shot his mentor a smile, probably the realest and most heartfelt smile all afternoon.

“Right”, Tony nodded as Harley scooted back into the booth. “I think I'll leave you two to your date and...” He pointed from Harley to Peter. “Damnit. Which of you do I need to tell to behave and have my guy home by ten pm?”

“Since I'm the legally grown-up, I'll look after Peter”, Harley grinned and Peter just pulled a grimace.

“Right...” Tony did not look convinced, but shrugged nonetheless. “Well, both of you behave yourselves and act right with my guy.”

“We love you, too”, Peter smiled and with a last grin, Tony turned around and left the 'boyfriends' by themselves. As soon as the car drove off, Peter just dropped his head on the table. How could his life get even more mixed up?

“So, that just happened”, Harley eventually stated.

“And thusly ending the 'only once or twice' idea, making us proper boyfriends.”

“I feel like we didn't properly think this through...”

“No shit...” Peter looked back up at Harley who shot him a skew grin. “Well, suppose we're officially dating.”

“Yeah...” Oh, how much Peter wished that could be true... “Guess next time you're round my place, we'll tell my aunt.”

“And we could come out to the Avengers at the Halloweenparty.”

“That the party 'your boss' tried to hook you up with a date?”

“Yup.”

Huh. Why didn't Tony push for Peter to bring a date to the party? That was something he could ask his mentor another time. “I mean, Couple's Costumes are kinda fun”, Peter grinned.

“I guess they are”, Harley giggled. “How about C3PO and R2D2?”

“Oh, I love that! Or PB and J.”

“Cookies and Milk.”

“Ken and Ken.”

“The couple from the American Gothic painting!”

“Thing 1 and Thing 2.”

“I got it.” Harley's face lit up in the most excited grimace. “I saw this tumblr post, right? About shipping Tony with the Ironmansuit, shipname Irony.”

“Omigod.” Peter burst out laughing. “Yes, yes, definitely!” Given how ironic their relationship was, it was the perfect costume.

“Only issue: the party is in two weeks. Do you really think we can build an entire Ironmansuit by then?”

“Well, if we want to piss of Tony, we should get the cheapest, most ugly costume on Amazon we can find”, Peter grinned, feeling the deviousness surging through him... It was a good feeling, maybe he should someday try the whole super villain thing...

“Peter, you are like the most amazing person”, Harley beamed. “I could kiss you right now! I mean, if we were like really dating, or... you know...” He blushed intensely, prompting Peter to blush along.

Just kiss me, already!

“Yeah, I get it.”

I'm getting infatuated with you, but this is just pretend, I get that. I would really like to be your boyfriend, but I'm just your alibi to get Mr Stark off your case, I get that. And instead of doing the smart thing, saying no and being honest with you, I'm apparently enough of a masochist to do all that to myself, I really definitely get it.

Peter's phone buzzing interrupted the weird silence, and Peter was endlessly grateful.

Ned: [picture of Doc Ock]

Ned: just saw it in the news, he's trying to take down brooklyn bridge

Shit, Peter had to get there, but without Harley knowing what's up...

“Listen, sorry, that's my Aunt. I need to go, that alright?”

“Sure thing. I'll text you later, ok?”

“Yeah”, Peter grinned, and hurried outside, into the nearest alley way to change. He definitely needed a nanotech suit like the newest Ironman suit, this hiding behind dumpsters and changing really sucked. “KAREN, put an automated suit on my ideas list.”

“Entry saved”, she announced and Peter jumped up and all but flew over the streets of New York.

He arrived at the scene around the same time as Mr Stark.

“Had to cut your date short, huh?”, he grinned, well, probably grinned, Peter couldn't tell with the mask on, but he knew his mentor well enough.

“Can we please focus on the fight?”

“Kid, you alright?” At Peter's harsh tone, Tony's voice went soft, concerned. “I'm sorry, I didn't want to pry.”

“Well, I just had to lie to my boyfriend.” Woah, that felt weird to say out loud... “And that freaking sucked.”

“I get that”, Mr Stark nodded as he shot off one of Octopus' arms.

“I mean, do I tell him?”, Peter asked as he webbed together two more arms and ducked just in time before being decked by arm 4.

“I mean, I know that Harley's quite the Spidey-fan. About as much of a fanboy as you are towards me...” Peter definitely heard the smug grin and was this close to shut down the communication between them.

“Honestly, doesn't look too good for you right now”, Peter scoffed and flipped out of the way of a metal arm, unfortunately right into the next one. “FUCK!” The arm hit him right across the chest, robbing him momentarily of breath and he dropped to the ground like a bag of potatoes.

“Shit, kid, you alright?” Mr Stark swooped in, took Peter a bit away to safety.

“What do you think?” Oh, that was gonna be very blue and purple by tonight. Didn't feel like his ribs got too much of a hit and, once he caught his breath again, he jumped back to his feet. “I'm alright”, he made clear as Ironman moved to inspect him, probably already thinking about swaddling him in blankets and shit. But Doc Ock still had four functioning arms, that motioned to toss a car off the bridge. At least his focus was off Peter and Tony and with webs and repulsors blasting, they managed to get him down in one swift swoop, just before that car, driven by an elderly couple, was pushed off the bridge.

“Are you alright?” While Mr Stark took care of the doc, Peter looked after the couple behind the wheel.

“Uhm, I think so...” The woman looked at Peter with wide eyes. “Thank you, young man. You saved our lives.”

“That's what I'm here for”, he smiled.

“Right then, kid. I'll take care of the mess, you get yourself checked out.” Tony gestured at his chest. “I can call up the medbay. “

“Or I'll go home, where Aunt May can look after me. She's a nurse, remember?”

“Right... And there won't be a certain boyfriend there, who might otherwise find out about your hobbies.”

Of course Mr Stark was completely right. Peter hated going to May with injuries, she was always so worried and he hated worrying his Aunt. But maybe running into Harley, who would find out that Peter had lied to him, and then even their fake relationship would end... No, he'd rather take his chances with his aunt.

“There also won't be a certain mentor”, Peter shot back, putting as much sarcasm and annoyance in his voice as he could, “who keeps on pestering me about my love life.”

That shut Mr Stark up, who eventually just waved him off. “Fine, go home. But you at least message me once Aunt hottie gave you the once over.”

“I will.” He gave his mentor the thumbs up and took off. Which hurt. So freaking much. When he finally climbed in through his window, he could let out all the pent up groans of pain, immediately bringing his aunt into his room.

“I do not like that sound one bit. Off with that thing.” She gestured at his suit and Peter complied.

“Doc Ock”, he explained, “swung into one of those arms.”

Peter didn't look down his chest, Aunt May's wide eyes were enough to know that it looked about as bad as it felt.

“Peter, how the hell am I supposed to feel alright to let you out on the street if you keep coming back looking like this...” She gently pushed him down to sit on his bed and cautiously patted his chest. “Doesn't feel like anything's broken, probably contused though. Wait, I got some stuff.”

She left to get the lotion and Peter dropped on his back.

That were some fucked-up few hours. Seriously, what the fuck did Peter get himself into? And he didn't even bother that much about the octopus-arm-shaped bruise, it was more thee knot inside his chest that sucked.

He and Harley really had to be a couple now. A real couple, even though everything was fake.

“Here, that should help with the...”

“May, I'm in a relationship”, he blurted out, great, lying to the next person he loved.

“Oh?” The worry on her face made way for a curious smile. She sat next to him on the bed, stayed silent, but looked all expectantly.

“Harley and me, we're... we're a thing.”

“Finally”, May smiled and carefully put her arm around his shoulder, making sure not to hurt him. “You've been crushing on that boy since you met him.”

Fuck, May really could read him like an open book. Of course she knew he was into him, probably from the moment he first mentioned Harley, his feelings were completely obvious to her.

“Yeah, I guess I did”, Peter admitted. “But well... He's really close with his boss and he wanted us to meet. So we met this afternoon.”

“I assume there's a big thing coming...”

“Yeah, so it's Tony. Stark. Who apparently is to Harley what he's to me.”

“Oh wow.” May started laughing and shot him the widest smile, once she had calmed a little more. “This... Peter, I'm sorry for laughing, but this is something that could only happen to you.”

And the damn truth was so much worse...

“I'm definitely happy for you and Harley. He seems like a wonderful guy that will treat my wonderful kid just right”, she smiled, pulling Peter a little closer against her side.

“He does.” Peter couldn't help his eyes lighting up. And sure, even if it wasn't real, Peter could just indulge in all that lovey-doveyness and at least pretend that it was true. “He's so funny and smart and genuine and I mean, he's so good looking as well and he's nice, and...” He beamed up at his aunt. “I'm really smitten.”

“That you are. So, if he works with Tony, does he know?”

And here it was again, that shitty feeling in his stomach, so much worse than the bruise on his chest. He just silently shook his head and put his head on her shoulder.

“What does Tony think?”

“That there shouldn't be any secrets in a relationship but that it's ultimately up to me.”

“And what do you think?”

“That I don't want to do to him what I do to you, to Mr Stark, to Ned and MJ.” He glanced up to find her eyes locked unto him. “He's only gonna worry. And I hate that I worry you so much and... I don't know, I'm scared I guess.”

“Scared that he'll be hurt you didn't tell him?”

“That”, Peter nodded, “and also... I don't know, I just don't want to burden him.”

May stayed silent, just nodded, and put a kiss on his head. “If you want to talk about it, you can always come to me, you know that, right?”

“Thanks.”

“Good. Now, let's see what we can do about that horrific bruise.”

.-.-.-.-.

Fuck, Harley was nervous. Peter was on his way to the compound; they'd tinker in the lab with Tony around, meaning they had to be a couple. And a convincing one at that. The mechanic knew both of them well enough to read every little hesitation and he would be watching the boys like a hawk.

Playing the part... Harley was pretty sure he would have no issues whatsoever, his gigantic crush fuelled enough blushing, staring, and hopefully plenty of touching, too. The bigger issue was not trying to lose himself in this lie, because once it ended, Harley would crash, hard.

“Hi darling.” Peter's voice brought Harley back to reality and seeing his 'boyfriend' skip over, all the butterflies in his stomach went into overdrive. And that grin... Awkwardly, Harley smiled back.

“Hey, Peter.”

“So, we're really going to be under scrutiny right now.” Peter walked up to him, closer and closer until they were mere centimetres apart and the breath hitched in Harley's throat.

“Uhm, yeah.” And cue the blush.

Peter's eyes searched his, blushing just like Harley. “Like... should we hug or... kiss?”

It took a few moments for the white noise in Harley's head to ebb down, allowing him to properly compute what Peter just suggested.

“Ehem.” The mechanic's harrumph broke the tension and the boys jumped apart, staring wide-eyed at their mentor, who walked in, towards the workstation. “I would like to remind the two of you that I do have an AI with eyes everywhere.”

“Mr Stark, that doesn't bother me ever since you chipped me”, Peter scoffed, trying to hide the blush as he made his way to an engineering project he had to do for school.

“You chipped him?” Harley's fell face again, staring at his mentor. “Wait, did you chip me, too?”

“I didn't”, Tony made clear. “And I didn't chip... Well, it doesn't matter. You gonna do some work or make eyes at Peter all the time?”

Peter dove halfway under the table to hide, and Harley felt the same way. But he was nothing if not a pain in Tony's ass, so he wouldn't let himself be taunted and, after a deep breath, he went back to his current robotic project.

But his mind was still caught in his and Peter's earlier almost-kiss... Or maybe it wouldn't have ended up like that. Harley's mind still fluttered at the thought of Peter all up in his personal space, of how he could feel Peter's breath against his skin, how Peter's eyes had locked onto Harley's and how hard he had to fight for his gaze not to drop down on Peter's lips.

And all of a sudden, Peter stood next to him, arms brushing. “You need a hand?”

“Sure.” Damnit, Peter was so smart, he knew what kind of help Harley needed, before Harley could even voice it.

The awkwardness didn't last longer than a few minutes though, they soon worked side by side, joking, laughing, even a bit of flirting and the time flew by. It was probably close to an hour later, when Harley realized that Tony was no where to be seen.

“Yo, mechanic?”

Now Peter noticed them being by themselves as well. “FRI, where's Mr Stark?”

“He left the workshop about fifteen minutes ago. He is currently having a cup of coffee in the upstairs kitchen.”

“Huh.” The 'boyfriends' looked at each other. “Did he say why?”

“I can ask him.”

“Nah, no need. We'll ask him ourselves later.”

“We'll do it right now.” Harley grabbed Peter's hand and pulled him along, making their way to the kitchen, where Tony sat by the table with a cup of coffee in front of him. Pretty sure, Harley did not want to know how many the mechanic's already had.

“So let's get this out right away”, he made clear before Tony could say anything. “I like Peter. Like a lot. And we're a thing, fullstop.”

He looked over at Peter who looked at him with wide eyes.

“I get that, and I can respect that. Just let me say that watching my two pseudo-kids flirting with each other takes a bit getting used to.”

“We're not gonna keep our distance though”, Peter explained, finally out of his trance, and stepped a bit closer to Harley's side, which probably combusted on contact.

“You're not supposed to, just give me some time to stomach you guys being sickeningly adorable.”

“Says the guy who starts drooling when his fiancée walks into the room”, Peter deadpanned, and Harley could only snort a laugh in agreement.

“Fine. I assume that you guys are hungry?”

“You know me”, Peter grinned.

“I do...” Tony rolled his eyes and shot Harley a pointed look. “If you ever wanna take that one out to dinner, you better save up; I know Pete doesn't look it, but he eats more than you and me put together.”

“I know”, Harley grinned at Peter, who he once watched inhaled an entire pizza in the same time Harley took to eat only two pieces himself. “You might need to pay me more...”

“That'd be the day”, Tony scoffed. “FRI?”

“Pizza is already on its way, boss.”

“Thanks. You two crazy kids, go wash up and FRI, keep an eye on them, will ya?”

They just rolled their eyes at him and Peter laced their fingers together very slowly and showy, which was nice. Like really nice. And if Harley was lucky, he might hold on a little longer.

.-.-.-.-.

Peter sat on a roof top, letting his feet dangle, when Mr Stark landed next to him.

“Hey Pete.” He sat himself down next to Peter and looked over as his mask folded back. “What's up?”

“Do you have an issue with me and Harley?”, Peter blurted out, a lot blunter than intended, but well.

“Of course I don't. Like I said, it just took me a moment to get used to the idea. And I get it, I really do. You two are adorable together and a blind guy could see how head over heels you are for him. And he for you”, he added with a smile.

Yeah, Peter already got that Harley was an incredibly good actor. All that cutesy couples stuff was unfortunately not that played on Peter's side.

“Ok, then why did you push for him to bring a date to the Halloween Party, but not me?” It had been nagging on Peter forever.

The way Mr Stark turned, Peter probably hit bull's eye with his suspicion.

“Listen, kid...” Oh, that was a great start. “I feel responsible to make sure you're alright. And after your last... let me call it romantic encounter with your classmate and her supervillain dad, I just... I don't know.”

“Right.” Peter didn't get what Mr Stark's issue was. “But since you're his sort of Dad, I don't really need to worry about that, do I? Like, don't get me wrong, I'm sure that if you wanted to go evil, you'd have this country on its knees before lunchtime, but I don't think that'll happen.”

“Thanks for your confidence in me”, Tony chuckled and put his arm around Peter's side. “I don't plan on doing anything evil like that, but I gotta say, now I'm curious to see how quickly I could rule this shit.”

“You'd need to get Pepper on your side first, though”, he grinned up. “She could and definitely would stop you.”

“Huh.” That Mr Stark had clearly not taken into account. “I guess I won't take over the world then.”

“Smart move”, Peter giggled. “I wouldn't want to go over to the dark side.”

“You'd follow me there?” Tony looked actually touched and a bit surprised.

“I mean”, Peter shrugged, not knowing what really to say. “You know all my moves, my tricks, my powers like nobody else, you know all my secrets” - well, almost all of them - “so once you'd join the Sinister Six, my superhero career'd be over.”

“And here I was thinking, you loved me.”

“I do”, Peter made clear and leaned closer into the hug. “So, please just stay good and a hero and we don't have to worry about all that.”

“Fine, promise.” Tony pressed a kiss against Peter's temple and gave his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Love you too, buddy. And, as awkward as you might think it is, because your boyfriend is my other ward, come to me, if you want to talk or anything, alright?”

“Thanks, Mr Stark.”

“Perfect.” With a wide grin, Harley inspected their Ironman costume, he and Peter had crafted in Peter's little bedroom. And crafted was an apt comparison; they used all the cardboard boxes they could find in Peter's apartment building and had bought all the gold and red glittering foil the shops in Queens had to offer, held together by enough hotglue and tape to withstand any Alien attack. In short, the costume was hilariously ugly.

“Mr Stark is so gonna disinherit us”, Peter giggled.

“Worth it”, Harley grinned back and, for the finishing touch, glued the blue arc-reactor, Peter had cut out, on it's chest plate. “Only question: Who gets to wear it, and who gets to draw on a beard and sport the nicest suit five bucks can buy us?”

“I'd say Peter looks a little more like Tony”, May commented and the boys shrieked back in surprise. Neither of them had realized she had been standing in the door, watching them craft their outfit. “Sorry, didn't want to startle you.”

“It's alright.” After catching their breath again, Peter fell back against Harley's side, a place he had barely left in the last few hours. “But yeah, do you think I should be Mr Stark?”

“I mean...” May walked into the room, critically inspecting both their faces. “You've got the darker hair and eyes. And, please don't take this the wrong way honey, but that suit you two made looks like it might be a little too big for you.”

“Hmpf.” Peter looked up a little miffed, but yeah. Not that that cardboard and tinfoil monstrosity would look good on anybody, but Harley could fit it better.

“Don't be miffed”, he grinned, “you get to look good in a nice suit and I mean, that's just perfect for me.”

“Huh?” Peter pulled his face in a confused grimace. “Why is that perfect for you?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harley saw May stifling a chuckle and in all fondness, Harley couldn't help the eyeroll. “Because you will look hot as hell and I can spend the entire party oggling my good looking boyfriend.”

“Oh.” That blush that spread over Peter's face was just about the most adorable thing. He scrunched his nose a little up, something Harley had noticed every time Peter was complimented. “Thanks”, he mumbled and dropped his head to hide his flushed face.

“You still have your suit from Homecoming”, May threw in, “plus a nice tie and sun glasses and ta da! Tony Stark's double.”

“That doesn't fit me any more”, Peter shrugged, “growth spurt.”

“Right... How can I keep on forgetting that my little nephew is about to outgrow me”, May smiled and playfully tousled Peter's hair, who lost the fight against the blush.

“I could borrow one of Tony's suits”, Harley suggested. “You're almost his size anyway and since we're already going for the worst Ironmansuit, we maybe should at least get the real thing then.”

“Are you sure you can just take one of his suits?”

“I don't think he'll notice”, Peter shrugged, “as long as it's not coffee, his tools, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy or us, he doesn't notice when something's disappeared.”

“Then that's what we'll do”, Harley decided, already endlessly curious for the looks and reactions they'd get from the mechanic and the Avengers.

“Great. But for now we'll have dinner. You're staying Harley, right?”

“Yes, he does”, Peter answered in his place with a cheeky grin and squeezed his hand.

“What do you think?” Harley turned to Peter who had just changed into the suit, Harley had gotten from Tony's closet. He was pretty sure the mechanic didn't know, he hadn't said anything at least and Harley had agreed with FRI not to rat him out.

And fuck. That suit looked good on Peter.

It was a deep blue three-piece suit and yes, it was a little bit too big, but not too much; for his seventeen-year-old gangly being Peter was surprisingly muscular. He had his hair gelled back, apparently that was the only way to tame the curls. And he had drawn on Tony's beard.

“Harley?”

Only now, Harley realized that he'd been staring and forced himself to look natural as he looked back up. “You look good. Really. And definitely better than Tony.”

“Aww, thanks”, he grinned. “Can you help me with this, though?” He held a golden tie out with a meek grin. “May tried to teach me, but I didn't really get it.”

“Sure thing.” Harley cleared his throat as he got close enough for him to tie the tie, close enough for them to almost be brushed up against each other and Harley had to pull all his focus on the job at hand to keep from staring into Peter's eyes.

“Here.” Once finished, he straightened the lapels and smoothed the fabric of the tie and the shirt and, as his hands brushed over Peter's chest, Harley could swear he felt him jump.

But there was no time to linger, they were already a little late and should head on over to the party. Since transporting the cardboard-Ironmansuit was a logistical nightmare and pretty much impossible to do that secretly, they had decided on a Ironmanonesie. It was so much more comfortable and Harley could actually move in it, so that was definitely the better call.

He grabbed the sunglasses that he too had snuck out of Tony's wardrobe and gently put them on Peter's face. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Peter grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers and gently squeezed it and together they headed to the giant hall, where all the Avengers, SI employees, well, probably half the city was present.

“Omigod, I'm so honoured.” Tony was the first to greet them; Harley was pretty sure he had waited for the two to finally arrive.

“Can you guess what our costume means?”, Peter answered. “Hint: it's a couples costume.”

“But I'm not dating my suit?”, Tony asked and the touched smile made way for confusion.

“If you did, what would that be called?”

“Reason for therapy?”

“Well...” Harley looked over at Peter. “Guess he isn't a genius after all.”

“I got it.” Pepper came up beside Tony's side, laughing loudly and Harley did not doubt for a second that yes, she knew the answer. She leaned over and whispered her answer into Peter's ear, whose face just lit up in the most beautiful way and he nodded excitedly. “That's exactly right!”

“You're not gonna tell me?” Clutching his chest, Tony shot his fiancée the most heartbroken expression, but she just nodded. “You have to figure it out yourself until they decide to put you out of your misery. But at least now I know where that suit went.” Pepper grinned at Peter who blushed immediately. “You wear it well.”

“Thanks”, he smiled awkwardly.

“Wait, that's my suit!” Yeah, Peter was exactly right with his assumption that Tony wouldn't notice. After a moment of offence, Tony almost looked nostalgic. “Pep's right, you look good kid. But you... I'm almost offended.” He turned to Harley and critically looked him up and down. “You work almost daily on the real stuff and that's what you decided to show up in?”

“Me and Peter did build our own Ironsuit, but unfortunately we couldn't transport it here, so plan B...”

He and Peter both tried to look earnest, as Peter got his phone out to show him their work, both of them fully aware that Tony might not speak with them for the next year or so.

“Alright, so we put so much effort into this, almost destroyed my room, but we just wanted to make sure that it's as close to the original as it could be.” How Peter managed to say that without breaking, Harley had no idea. He squeezed Peter's hand and he turned the phone over at Tony. Whose face dropped almost immediately into pure offence and unbelieving speechlessness. “You... No, I...” With a gaping mouth he looked at Peter, then Harley, before he turned around and walked away without saying another word.

Pepper just started laughing. “You boys are incredible. Fantastic job, I got to say.”

“Thanks”, they grinned in unison, beaming up at Pepper in her beautiful zombie-bride costume. “You look really amazing, too.”

“Thank you. Already testing out such a thing”, she smiled and stroked the wide skirt of the muddied and bloodied wedding dress. “I might not wear that one at the wedding, though; my mother would faint.”

“I would make for a perfectly gorey ringbearer, though”, Harley grinned, until Peter boxed his side.

“If anyone gets to be ringbearer, it's me!”

“Right”, Harley scoffed.

“Exactly right”, Peter shot back, raising his eyebrow in the same challenging way as Tony often did. “Mr Stark likes me more than you.”

“Sure thing. And the earth is flat.”

“He does.”

“No, he doesn't.”

“Yes he does.”

“Boys”, Pepper interrupted. “He loves you both so much. Unfortunately, we already promised Dum-E that he could be ringbearer.”

“But...” Peter's mouth gaped open, before he caught himself again. “Then I want to be a flower boy.”

“Me too!”, Harley beamed. “I'd love to throw rose petals around! Or, if you go with the zombie-wedding, bones or something.”

“That sounds really wonderful, actually”, she smiled. “Yes, it would be fantastic if you two would be our flower boys.”

“Thank you!”, Peter squealed, let got of Harley and all but tackle-hugged Pepper, Harley followed suit right away.

“Did you get it yet?”, Harley grinned as the boys came up on each side of Tony, who was talking to Rhodey in a George Washington costume.

“Rhodey, would you please tell these gremlins at my side that I won't talk to them until I walk them down the aisle at their wedding?”

“Well, first of all”, Peter shrugged, “that's gonna be my aunt.” He waved at May in her fancy princess dress, dancing with Happy, who, well, he did his best, wearing a red coat and a crown, to make him look somewhat royal.

“And second of all, if I marry Peter, are you just gonna run down the aisle, once you walked one of us, to fetch the other?” Peter's stomach turned somewhat at that suggestion, maybe at how easy and relaxed the idea of them getting married sounded from Harley.

“Rhodey, would you please tell these infuriating gremlins, that dare to speak directly to me that I won't talk to them until I give my toast at their wedding?”

Rhodey didn't even bother to hide the grin as he looked at the teens. “What did you guys do?”

“Honestly, I have no idea”, Harley stated innocently. “I cannot possibly fathom why he'd be mad at us, we did dress up like him after all!”

“That's not it and you freaking know it”, Tony grumbled, turning to Harley with his finger pointed.

“I mean, technically we're not Tony Stark”, Peter explained to Rhodey. “All I'm gonna say is that this is a couple's costume and that he doesn't get it.”

“Et tu, Parker?”

“Wait...” Rhodey ignored his best friend and eyed them curiously, before the grin broke through. “Right, I got it. Boys, you are geniuses!”

“Thank you Mr Rhodey, War Machine, Iron Patriot, sir”, Peter giggled, aware of his extreme levels of nerdy fanboyness.

“Don't praise them”, Tony made clear, “they have committed horrendous crimes against the sanctity of engineering!”

Harley grinned over at Peter and he held his phone out to Rhodey to show him their crafted version of an Ironmansuit. “As you can see, we oriented our work at Mark XIII.”

While Mr Stark looked like he wouldn't mind being a dead zombie for reals, Rhodey just laughed at the picture. “He was right”, he chuckled. “You two are gremlins. And I also get why Tony hasn't introduced you to each other sooner...”

“I mean, he didn't have to introduce us at all”, Peter shrugged, locking eyes with Harley who smiled back over.

“Guess we were just meant to run into each other.”

Just before Peter could lose himself in Harley's eyes, Thor came up, pulling his brother behind him, each dressed as the other. The dark hair and green suit definitely looked weird on Thor, but Loki could actually pull being blond off.

“Peter! It is truly wonderful to see you again, it has been so long!” The god swept him up and gave him a tight hug, and Peter couldn't care less about the fancy shirt crinkling; there was nobody that gave better hugs than Thor.

“Hi Thor! I missed you, too. How is Asgard?”

“My people are well, thank you for asking”, he smiled as he put Peter back down, who went and wrapped himself right around Loki.

“Missed you too”, he grinned as Loki put his arm around Peter.

“And I you, Peter. Is Stark any closer to allow you to come visit Asgard with my brother and me?”

“He is not”, Tony grumbled. “I'm not letting my Pete go off world with the god of mischief.”

“I'm starting to take this personally!” A clearly fake-pained expression on his face, Loki let go of Peter and clutched his heart. “Are you saying you don't like me?”

“Brother”, Thor tried to get him to shut up. “There is no need for you to antagonize our host, who has set up such fantastic celebrations.”

In the joy of seeing his Asgardian friends again, Peter lost sight of Harley for a moment; now he saw him standing just beside Tony, staring at Thor and Loki with wide eyes. Apparently, he hadn't met them yet.

“Thor, Loki, I would like you to meet somebody”, he smiled, grabbed Harley's hand and pulled him towards the demi-gods. “This is my boyfriend, Harley. Harley, that's Thor and Loki.”

“Harley, how wonderful to meet you!” Similarly as he did just now with Peter, Thor grabbed Harley by the shoulders and pulled him close into a hug. “Any friend of Peter's is a friend of mine and my people.”

Harley was completely speechless, something quite unusual for him.

“I might not be as affectionate as my brother, but I too am pleased to meet you. Though I postpone further judgement until I have deemed whether you are good enough for our Peter.”

“Alright.” Harley swallowed hard and looked at Loki with wide eyes, very aware of who just threatened him.

“Loki, he is. Don't worry about that”, Peter assured him and grabbed Harley's hand again. “He's the best.” And absolutely nothing about Peter's lovestruck grin and the warm feeling in his chest was fake.

“Come on, let's dance.” Harley grabbed Peter's hand and pulled him along.

“Uhm, but I can't dance”, Peter tried to get out of this, but Harley's grip on him was firm.

“That's ok, me neither. But we can still have fun.”

Well, as long as it was this fun, upbeat music, where Peter didn't have to be so damn close to Harley or touch him, and they could just weirdly flail and jump about, Peter'd be fine. It didn't take him too long to get into it, and enjoy it, too. It was just him and Harley, having fun, joking, making weird moves and giggling about some of the other dancers that took themselves very seriously. Sure, they were the youngest people there by far, there was Wanda who was only a few years older than them, but other than that they were just two teens that had inexplicably gotten an invitation to a very fancy party, and that was exactly how they acted and would continue to act.

Until the music changed into something slow, romantic, and Peter could no longer hide behind jokes and fun. A quick glance around the room affirmed his hunch: everybody pulled their partner closer; hand around waists, resting their heads on their partner's shoulder. Like May and Happy, who were swaying from one foot to the other, cheek against cheek. Or Tony, who held Pepper close, who even had her eyes closed.

Peter turned back to Harley who shrugged and offered a small smile; holding his hands out, silently asking for Peter's permission. Well, here goes nothing... With a smile, Peter took the outstretched hand and Harley pulled him close, their chests actually brushing. An arm wrapped itself around Peter's waist and Peter followed suit, embracing Harley and rested his chin on Harley's shoulder, even if he had to stretch a little bit to reach it. It felt so right, which was so wrong in so many ways! Realizing that May, Happy and Tony had their eyes on the two boys, Peter closed his eyes; pretending they weren't there was a lot easier when he couldn't see them. It also helped a lot to lose himself in this romantic little bubble, where all that mattered were him and Harley; only the soft music, the hand on his lower back, the thumb brushing over Peter's spine, sending shivers all through his body, mattered. It was only Harley, his warm breath against Peter's neck, his hand gently guiding him as they danced.

Only when Harley stirred, Peter opened his eyes. Harley looked over, locking eyes with Peter. “So”, he mumbled almost breathlessly, “since we're a couple... Do you think it'd be alright if I... I mean, if we... kissed?”

Peter's heart stopped for a moment as he could only stare and tried to process what Harley just suggested. But yes, Harley just asked if they could kiss. Which would be ruinous for the real life. But this wasn't real life, was it? This was just the two of them, lost in their own little world, where nothing else mattered but the other.

Peter just nodded, at which Harley's eyes lit up brighter than the fake battery-powered arc-reactor on his chest. The hand from Peter's back disappeared, but only moments later reappeared on Peter's cheek and with a smile, Harley tilted up Peter's chin, leaned closer and before Peter really knew it, their lips met. And Peter melted into the touch. As soft and gentle as their kiss was, it fired up everything, probably even his kidneys and liver. He brushed his hands up to Harley's neck, softly pulling him down a bit more, deepening the kiss and... Time stood still.

Let the world end, Peter didn't care. Kissing Harley felt like nothing Peter had ever felt before. Even Liz agreeing to be his homecoming date couldn't compete, it didn't even come close.

Only when they broke away, Peter realized that he hadn't been breathing for the last how ever long they were kissing. Wide-eyed, he and Harley looked at each other, until he started chuckling.

How the hell was Peter supposed to take this? “What is so hilarious?”, he demanded to know.

“I'm sorry, but I'm kissing a guy that looks like my father figure... That's kinda weird, isn't it?”

With that skew grin Harley shot him, Peter couldn't help but laugh along. “Yeah, it is. Should I have wiped off the beard before?”

“I mean, it's not like there's too much of it left.” Harley's thumb brushed Peter's chin, his lips, before he stilled immediately. He looked like he just woke up from a dream, which in all honesty was what Peter felt like, too. “How about some punch?”

“Yeah”, Peter nodded, broke the embrace and grabbed Harley's hand. It felt almost empty, without Harley touching him, but with their fingers entangled, it wasn't that bad anymore.

.-.-.-.-.

Oh damn. That went so much further than Harley had ever planned it'd go. But once he and Peter were close like that, embracing and dancing... He still felt Peter's hair brushing against his chin, felt the way his hand rubbed up and down his back, still felt the fire lighting up when Peter nodded his agreement to be kissed, still felt the emotional blackout when their lips met, how they seemed to burn against his skin, even now, some fifteen hours later, Harley felt Peter against him. It was only when Harley cupped Peter's face and was just about to kiss him again that he remembered that all that was fake. It wasn't real, it was all pretend.

Was it, though?

It felt so real, all of it. Even now, as they worked side by side in the lab, it was so easy, so normal to slip into flirty banter, only cutting it out when Tony shot them a look, just to start flirting again a few minutes later.

“Hey Tones, you called me?” Rhodey walked into the lab.

“I did.”

“You did?”, both teens asked simultaneously, similarly confused. “When?”

“Ten or so minutes ago. Come here, honeybear.” Tony waved at the other man, who didn't look too sure what to make out of this right now as well.

“What do you need?”

Beaming up, Tony wrapped his arms around Rhodey's waist. “Someone to make googly eyes at, because if I have to watch those two lovebirds any longer, I'm gonna be sick.”

“Tony, I got a job to do.” Even though he rolled his eyes, Rhodey didn't make any move to leave and instead put one arm around Tony's shoulder. “Couldn't you call somebody else to flirt with you?”

“Well, Happy can't flirt, and neither can Rogers or Banner. Thor is a bit too... well, Thor. Of Natasha I'm scared and even if I called her, Pepper wouldn't drop her work for me. Maybe I should marry you instead of her, you always come when I call”, he grinned up.

“Well, you did just save me from a discussion with Ross, so I should probably thank you.”

“What did he want this time?

“The usual”, Rhodey shrugged and Tony's face turned rockhard immediately.

“You alright, Tony?”, Harley asked, even though he was a little worried to interrupt.

“I swear to whoever will listen, one day I'll send that fucker to the moon.” The rage did drop a little from his face, when Rhodey gently squeezed his shoulder.

“What's his issue, then?”

“Spider-Man is”, Rhodey explained. Peter turned suddenly to Rhodey, almost worried. Harley got that, he knew that Peter really liked Spidey, he was always ready to defend the hero, probably knew who was under the mask, judging from the way he always blushed when someone brought it up.

“What is his issue with Spider-Man?”, Peter asked, looking from Tony to Rhodey. No, it wasn't worry on Peter's face, it was fear.

“He wants to know his identity”, Mr Stark explained, “desperately so, since he, Daredevil, The Iron Fist and Moon Knight are pretty much the only heroes in NYC with a secret identity. I can't remember how often I've told him to shove his curiosity where the sun don't shine...”

“And I've told him just as often.” Rhodey sighed deeply. “All we unfortunately can do about this is to assure Spider-Man that we'll do everything in our power to keep his identity save.”

“I'm sure he really appreciates that”, Peter smiled, but the fear, Harley noticed, was still there. Not knowing what else to do, Harley grabbed Peter's hand and squeezed it; and almost immediately, some of the fear dropped and the smile Peter shot him looked almost real.

“You see, that's why I need you, honey bear”, Tony groaned gesturing at the intertwined fingers.

“Don't listen to the old man over here, guys”, Rhodey winked.

“You're older than me.”

“So what... Don't fret to show the entire world how much in love you are, and you both know this one well enough to know that, deep at heart, he's a hopeless romantic.”

“Et tu, Rhodey?”

As the grown-ups continued their bickering, not unlike that of an old-married couple, Harley completely lost all sense of space and time. 'How much in love you are.' Rhodey's words replayed over and over in Harley's mind. How the fuck could they be in love, if they weren't even properly dating? Was he in love with Peter? He only knew the guy for two months and a bit, that was way to fast wasn't it?

Yes, he had a crush, that much he could admit. After all he watched Peter, when he thought nobody watched him, especially when he was working. He watched, when Peter crinkled his forehead in frustration, when something didn't work out the way it was supposed to. He watched, when Peter scrunched his nose up, when he was met with any kind of affection, be it a hair tousle or a compliment. He watched, how Peter's eyes went big in curiosity, when Tony explained something or other to them. He watched, how Peter's lips twitched, every time he tried not to laugh after somebody made a snarky or sassy joke. And he watched, when Peter's entire face lit up, when something worked out the way he had imagined it, even when Harley was successful, Peter enjoyed it if he had just climbed Mount Everest.

So yes, Harley definitely had a major crush and he was falling, probably harder than he'd like to. And that's why, once this whole pretend-fake-thing would eventually end, Harley would just crash and burn. And all that in the knowledge that it had been his own fucking stupid idea and fault.

.-.-.-.-.

When Harley walked into the lab, Tony was already (or still? It was hard to tell with the mechanic) hard at work, surrounded by tools, while Dum-E and Butterfingers whirred through the lab.

“Harley!”, he called out in greeting when he finally saw him. “How was Lego time with Peter and the nerd-herd?”

“Was awesome”, he grinned and tossed his bag in the corner. “Peter said to say hi, but May is unexpectedly home earlier today, so he went home instead.”

“Right.” (Tony was quite aware of the fact that Aunt Hottie was on a date with Happy, because his head of security had been gushing about her and what to wear all day long, so Peter was probably busy with his extracurriculars he still hadn't told his boyfriend about.) “Well, get in here, then.”

Tony waved him over and before long, Harley was buried just as deeply in wires and stuff as the mechanic was. It was late afternoon when Harley had gotten back to the compound; when he eventually looked up from his work, prompted by FRIDAY, it was already dark out. “Boss, Spider-Man is calling.”

“Put him through”, Tony waved and immediately the heavy breathing from the other line filled the lab.

“Missark?” The weirdly familiar voice was weak, only a quiet mumble.

“Shit, what happened?” Immediately, the mechanic jumped up. “FRI, KAREN's log.”

“So, Ninjas, right?”, Spider-Man slurred. “Really long swords. An' sharp.”

Damnit, that voice was gutwrenchingly familiar! It was masked somehow, but not enough, Harley was one hundred percent sure that he knew who they were talking to. Harley was worried, yes, but Tony looked like he was gonna lose himself in his fear for Spider-Man and already his Ironmansuit pieced itself together.

“Kid, where are you? FRI, tracker!”

“New York...”

“Alright, kid.” Tony's voice rose in panic, but he tried to sound steady enough not to freak Spider-Man out any more. “I'm on my way, you just need to hold on, you got that, Pete?”

“PETER?” Shit, that's why he knew the voice, it was his damn boyfriend!

“'s Harley? Missark, please don' tell, he'll worry. Don' worry him.” The voice went softer, as did the already shallow breathing.

“You stay here”, Tony made clear with a pointed look that did not hide his fear. “FRI make sure that Harley stays here. Peter, I'm coming, just stay awake.” And with that, Tony ran for the window and flew off.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

“FRIDAY, tell me everything about Peter and Spider-Man.”

After FRIDAY recapped Peter's story, losing his parents, being bitten by a radio-active spider, watching his Uncle die, meeting Tony, meeting and fighting the Avengers, the Vulture-business... Harley just started bawling his eyes out and dropped to the ground, where he balled himself up.

Peter was Spider-Man. Spider-Man was Peter. He had lied to Harley for months! They'd been dating, well, sort of at least. But clearly Peter didn't feel like it was real, if he kept the most important things in his life away from Harley.

And now he was what, impaled by a sword, lying in a ditch somewhere and there was nothing Harley could do, absolutely nothing.

“FRI, where's the medbay?” He needed to be there once Peter got here, Harley just needed to be by his side. All the pain, anger or whatever at being kept in the dark didn't matter at all, he just needed to be there.

“I am under orders not to let you leave.”

“FRI, I'm not gonna run away and into the city, I'm not even gonna leave this building and you're gonna keep eyes on me all the time. Please”, he begged, “please, FRI, I need to be there. He's my boyfriend after all.”

“Fine.” As begrudgingly as she sounded, FRI instructed him where to go and he got there just as Tony put Peter on a bed that was immediately wheeled away.

“WAIT!”, he cried out and started to run towards where Tony stood in front of a door, that closed behind Peter.

“Harley, I told you to stay in the lab.” As stern as Tony tried to sound, his voice was wavering and now that Harley got closer, he could see that the red all over him was not his Ironmansuit but instead... Oh fuck. As realization hit, Harley felt all the colour draining from his face.

“No, no, no, please tell me this isn't...” He didn't await an answer, something between desperation and determination took hold of him and he stormed on, intend on pushing past his mentor and into that operating theatre, because clearly they had to talk about a different Peter here. It couldn't be his Peter, because his Peter wouldn't secretly fight fucking ninjas with swords!

“Harley, stop. Please, kid”, Tony tried to reason with him, but all reason went out the window the moment his boyfriend was impaled by a fucking sword. The fact that Peter technically wasn't his boyfriend didn't matter; for all Harley cared they were in a relationship and no Ironman could stand in his way.

“Kid, please!” Tony grabbed Harley's shoulder, holding him back, but Harley fought with everything he had. He was gonna see Peter! Nobody could keep him from his Peter!

The mechanic's hold tightened, he wrapped an arm around him, trying to push him further away from the operating room.

“No, NO!”, Harley cried, fighting tooth and nail, “I NEED TO SEE HIM! LET ME GO!”

“I know you want to see him, but you can't right now. We just need to wait for Dr Strange to finish the surgery.”

“NO!”, he kept on yelling over and over again, “PLEASE! LET ME GO!”

By now, Harley was pressed tightly against Tony's chest, but he couldn't dare to let the rage drop just yet, he couldn't give in, couldn't give up. “Please!” As hard as he tried, his cries gave way for what was more whimpering as he boxed against Tony's chest, he just needed to be stronger, he just needed to keep pushing and he could be there and, if nothing else, at least to see he was still alive...

What if he wasn't? Oh fuck, what if this... What if all this was the last time that...

From one moment to the next, all strength drained from his body and he fell against Tony. If he weren't holding him as tightly, Harley would have probably dropped to the floor. He clawed into the shirt, hard, holding on for dear life, for Peter's life. His face pressed against Tony's chest, he just let it all out. One last scream gave way to his sobs and the tears, streaming down his face.

“I got you.” Tony held him close, gently stroking up and down Harley's back. “Everything'll be alright.”

“I love him...” He did, he really did. As much as he had denied it these last few weeks since the Halloween party... Well, Harley shouldn't have. He shouldn't have denied himself the chance to actually say it out loud.

“I know you do. And Peter loves you, too.”

“No, he doesn't”, Harley muttered, cursing himself the moment he said it.

“Of course he does. He's just as crazy about you as you are about him.”

“No, he isn't”, Harley repeated, louder this time, intent on letting all the secrets, the hurt, the pining and everything else that had been bottled up for the last three or so months out, intent on finally coming clean, and he looked up at the mechanic's tear-stained face. “Because it's all not true.”

“What isn't?”

“Me and Peter... We're not really dating”, he admitted quietly, between sobs. “I wanted to get you off my back, you know, setting me up with all of SI. Didn't think you'd know each other and two or three dates and that would be it.”

“Yeah, I know”, Tony shrugged and brushed the hair out of Harley's face.

“You do?” What the fuck?

“I know you. And I know Peter. And in the beginning it just didn't all add up completely. But over time I figured you two got your heads out of your own asses and realized that you were actually falling for the other. Halloween I figured, that yes, now you've got it. Well, soon as Peter wakes up from his op, you can get it sorted out.”

Tony sounded so sure of himself, but what... What if Peter didn't wake up anymore?

“You know, one of the great thing about his being Spider-Man is that he has superhuman healing”, Tony explained, when the next round of sobs took over and Harley pressed his face against Tony's chest again. “A few months ago he broke his leg. Healed completely in a couple of days. He can accidentally cut his finger during breakfast and by dinner it'll be healed without a scar.”

All that sounded too good to be true. But then again, Spider-Man could lift tons of weight, could climb up walls... considering all that, super-healing didn't seem all that improbable...

Eventually, Tony pushed him towards a bank and there they waited. Harley never left the mechanic's embrace, even when Pepper checked in, and when Happy and May arrived. Peter's aunt looked similarly worried and grabbed Harley's hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

And together they managed to make it through what was probably half the night, until the door opened and Dr Strange walked out.

“Wow”, he smiled, “Peter will be really glad to see that so many people care about him once he wakes up.”

“Does that mean that...”

“Everything went perfectly”, the doctor nodded, “and with his spider-healing, I don't think he'll need to be in the medbay all that long.”

That sounded ok so far. But Harley was not gonna let the relief wash over him until he saw Peter with his own eyes and had actual, tangible proof that Peter was alright.

“Come on”, Strange waved at Harley, who really could not sit still anymore and after a gentle push from Tony, he got up. “The rest of you can come, too.”

Harley didn't give two fucks who joined, and he didn't really realize any of them once Dr Strange opened the door to a patient room, where Peter lay in a big bed, tubes and shit running from and to his arm. Even though Peter wouldn't feel it, Harley took his hand and gently brushed his thumb over it, careful not to interfere with any of the needles and cables that were stuck in there.

Peter was quite pale, but his breathing was steady and so was his pulse. There was an ugly purpleish bruise on his forehead, one of those fucking ninjas must have hit him there. But other than that, he was just sleeping. He looked almost peaceful, as his chest rose and fell, which in turn helped Harley calm down again too.

No matter what, Harley wasn't gonna leave until he knew that Peter was really ok, before Peter'd wake up, he would not leave. Not when Tony left after a little while to take a shower and change out of the bloody clothes, not when a few Avengers came in and left, no one would be able to pry his hands from Peter's.

.-.-.-.-.

Peter woke up to a very mushy feeling. It was weird, it took him longer than usually to open his eyes, and even then, things around him weren't all that clear. He wasn't in his own bed, that much he could tell. He also wasn't by himself in this strangely big bed. Turning his head hurt like nobody's business, but slowly he managed to make out the figure by his side. It was Harley that held tightly onto his hand, lying half on the bed, half on a chair. His head rested against Peter's shoulder, hair hanging down his forehead and he snored softly. Alright.

As he turned his head further, he saw Happy and May, also sleeping soundly, cuddled up on a chair in one corner. On his other side was Mr Stark, who had his feet up on Peter's bed, not just softly snoring. Pepper was on his lap, her head resting on his chest.

Peter looked down himself, maybe this way he could figure out where he was or what happened. There were plenty of tubes running in and out of his arm and his left hand was bandaged up.

This was a hospital. Not just any hospital, it was probably the infirmary at the Avenger's. The way the sun was shining in through the window, it was probably late morning, maybe early afternoon already.

What had happened? The last thing he remembered was the Lego date at Ned's, with Harley and MJ. As usual, MJ was sprawled out on the couch, nose in her book, making her usual snarky comments. Peter was sandwiched between Ned and Harley, but mostly pressed against Harley's side. The same side against which Harley was now cuddled.

But then... Harley had asked Peter to come along to the compound, work some more on the robot they had been tinkering with for a while, but Peter decided to go Spidermanning instead. So he lied to Harley. To his fake boyfriend, he just wanted so much to be his real boyfriend. Said something about dinner with May, some lame excuse, like he had so many times over the last months.

And then there were the ninjas... There were too many of them, Peter was outnumbered, not even his Spidey-sense was enough to get him through this. They only dispersed when the police sirens came close. It wasn't until Peter was up on a roof after all the ninjas had disappeared, that he realized the pain in his side. And the hole in his suit and all the blood, so much blood that trickled down his side, his leg.

The last thing Peter managed to remember was to ask KAREN to call Mr Stark.

And now he woke up in the hospital, with Harley by his side. He found out. Did Mr Stark tell him? Or did he see Peter coming in, hurt like that? It must have been pretty bad, given that his side was hurting like hell and really everybody was squeezed into the room.

Peter tried to move carefully, not to wake Harley, but his 'boyfriend' held on tight enough, that even the smallest movement woke him.

“Peter?” He glinted at him, but as soon as he saw that he was awake, his eyes flew wide open. “Peter, omigod, you're alive and you're awake and...”

“Shhh”, Peter gestured at the grown-ups, “don't wake them.”

“Sorry”, Harley whispered and helped Peter to sit up. “You need anything?”

“Water.”

“Here.” Harley held a glass of water out to him and with a weak smile Peter took it. And half a glass later, his throat didn't feel like sandpaper any more.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not sure yet”, he answered honestly.

“But you remember what happened?”

Peter just nodded.

“Great. Dr Strange said that this is a good sign; I'll get him right away.”

“Stop.” Peter held him back by his arm. “Before chaos breaks out...” He looked up at him, hopefully as sincere and heartfelt as he intended. “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for never telling and...”

“Peter, we can talk about this once you're rested and alright.” Harley moved out of Peter's hold and left the room.

“I know you're up”, Peter eventually mumbled, without turning towards Mr Stark.

“I'd like to brush your hair back or something, but I'm scared to wake Pepper”, he explained his inactivity. “But boy, am I glad you're awake.”

“Yeah, me too.” Peter slowly turned and was relieved to see his mentor's warm smile. It was reassuring and safe.

“Are you in pain?”

“A bit”, Peter nodded. “Side is pretty bad. And my head.”

“That I believe. But lucky you got that spider-healing, huh?”, Mr Stark grinned before stifling a yawn.

“Yeah... You alright?”

“Now that you're up, I am. Scared the shit out of us, kiddo. And got me another five hundred grey hairs.”

“Pepper prefers the silver fox look”, Peter shrugged with a bit of a grin.

“I'm not thanking you”, Tony made clear, but grinning as well. “Right, as soon as Harley and Stephen get back, all hell's gonna break loose. You ready?”

“As I'll ever be. But...” He took a deep breath. “How's Harley doing?”

“For the last twenty or so hours all that mattered to him was that you're alive and would not leave your side for a moment. Everything else you two have to figure out.”

“Right.”

It was the look that Harley tried to hide as he walked out of the room, that bothered Peter. At first it had been relieve that Peter was alright, but then as soon as the worry dropped, there was room for hurt and anger. And Peter felt it as clearly as the pain in his side: he had fucked up and now he was gonna lose Harley. And only thinking about that was already so much worse than being impaled by a fucking sword.

When moments later Dr Strange walked into the room, he was not quiet about it, which in turn woke up everybody else.

“Pete! Oh, you're up!” May jumped off Happy's lap and to Peter's side, before Peter really had the chance to realize she was awake. Pepper and Happy thankfully kept their distance, though they also smiled at him, clearly relieved that he was more or less ok.

“Hey, Aunt May”, he smiled and softly squeezed her hand. “I'm alright.”

“I'll be the judge of that”, Strange grinned. “Could I please have the room to do just that?”

“Sure thing.” May leaned over and kissed Peter's forehead. “We'll be right outside and back as soon as the doc's done.”

Everyone followed suit, patting his leg, his arm before motioning to walk outside, but just before he could follow, Peter grabbed Harley's arm. “Can you stay, please?”

A little unsure, Harley looked from him to Tony to Dr Strange, who nodded.

“Uh, ok...” A little awkwardly, Harley shuffled back to the chair, he had spend the night on and let Peter hold his hand.

“Thanks”, he mumbled, just before the door closed and Dr Strange came to his left, his impaled side.

The check-up went up and down Peter's side, his face where apparently he had quite the bruise and his contused leg. What exactly the doc did, Peter didn't really notice, didn't care about. He kept his eyes locked onto Harley's and tried to read him, tried to figure out what he should say to make him feel better about being lied to.

“Right then”, Strange cleared his throat, “looking good, kid. I am endlessly envious of that spider-healing, no signs of inflammation or anything like that, I'm sure that by tonight the wound will start to close up already.”

“Thanks, Doctor.” Begrudgingly, Peter broke his gaze with Harley and looked at Strange. “Thanks for all this and saving my life.”

“That's what I'm here for”, he smiled at Peter. “Let me update your family out there then.” With a nod at the teens, Strange left the room and Peter and Harley by themselves.

“How're you feeling?”

Smalltalk, great. Just want Peter wanted right now.

“You heard the doc. How are you?”

Harley looked down at their entangled fingers, gently brushing over the back of Peter's hand with his thumb. “I don't know”, he eventually mumbled. “I am so fucking happy that you're alive and that you'll be alright. For the rest... I'm really not sure.”

“I'm so sorry, I... I just want to make all this alright for you.”

“And how the fuck do you thing that you could make the last 20 or so hours alright again, huh?” Harley looked back up, tears in his eyes. “In the span of fifteen minutes I found out that you were Spider-Man, everything that happened in the last few years, and that you were currently impaled by fucking ninja swords. Tony wouldn't even let me see you. All night I had to sit there with your Aunt and Tony and everybody else who loves you and wait. There was nothing I could do about the boyfriend I thought I knew everything about. Well, looks like I knew nothing after all, did I?”

The last few words felt like poison and Peter couldn't help but flinch at the harsh sound of them.

“That's not true. I'm still me, Lego-loving, engineering Peter. That's just one part of me...”

“But such a big one! And one that made you keep on lying to me! How the hell am I supposed to believe anything else you told me? I thought you were supposed to be my boyfriend...”

“Right”, Peter couldn't help but scoff, “because all that is so true and not an enormous lie in itself.”

Peter regretted it the moment he said it. Harley went rigid, completely still. “Right. Ok then, I'm really happy you're not dead.” All the emotions had vanished from his voice, he sounded almost robotic. As he got up, Harley pulled his hand away, out of Peter's hold. And without another word he turned and left Peter by himself in the big room, that felt so much emptier the further Harley walked away.

As the door closed behind him, Peter could just have screamed his lungs out. Instead, he let the tears roll silently down his cheek. It was over. It was all over and it was all Peter's fault. So what if it wasn't all that real, it had felt real; it had been real to Peter. And now it was over.

“Hey darling.” The door opened and May slipped into the room. “Hey, it's alright!” As soon as she saw his teary face, she hurried to his side and gently cupped his face. “You're gonna be just fine.”

“But I don't wanna be”, he muttered under his breath, wiping his eyes.

“Honey...” May sat up on his bed, Peter made enough room, so she could sit by his side, put her arms around him and he gratefully leaned in. “You and Harley are going to be alright. I know it. You're both so damn smitten...”

“No, we're not”, he quietly admitted and pressed himself as close to his aunt as he could. “Harley wanted to get Mr Stark of his back, so he said we're dating. But... It was all pretend.”

He waited for being scolded for that lie, so many lies he told the people he was closest to. But instead, May pressed her lips against his temple. “Maybe you weren't dating at first. Those feelings, they were real though, or at least they became real. Neither you nor Harley would be so upset or heartbroken right now, if it were all fake.”

Peter didn't know what to say or think, so he just cuddled himself closer against May and tightly wrapped up in her arms, he soon enough drifted back into sleep.

.-.-.-.-.

When Harley left Peter's hospital room, Tony's outstretched arms already awaited him. Not giving two fucks about the other grown ups around them, Harley trotted right into Tony's embrace and, once he was safely enveloped in the mechanic's arms, he let the tears roll.

“It's ok”, Tony kept on assuring him, “it's all gonna be ok.”

“No, it's not”, Harley mumbled. “It's over, although it never even began.”

“You're such a drama queen”, Tony chuckled before cupping Harley's face. “You two will be alright. Because even if you don't want to believe it, that boy in there is so in love with you, it's almost ridiculous.”

“Then why did he lie to me, huh? Why did he lie to me for months on end?”

“You mean like you two lied to me and everybody else?”

“That's not the same”, Harley grumbled, wiping a few tears off his cheek and chin. It was something else though, right? Sure, he and Peter had told a major lie about a life changing event to all the people closest to them. Whoops. “Fine, maybe it's the same. But it shouldn't be! If it had been real to him too, he would have told me.”

“You know, Peter never ever told anybody about his secret. Not me, not May, not Ned or MJ... All of us found out more or less by accident. That kid is hell bent on keeping everybody away from Spider-Man, as far as he can. You know, Peter's big reason not to tell you was, because he didn't want you to worry about him. That's why he kept it to himself.”

“Right, because it's so ridiculous to worry about someone who goes ahead and gets himself impaled.”

“Well, Keener, you just fell head over heels for someone who's heart is bigger than his appetite. You have no idea how much of a battle it was to get him to call me when he got hurt, because he'd rather stitch up his hand with dental floss in his bedroom than inconvenience me.”

“That example was just too damn specific for you to have thought of it.” Harley looked up with big eyes and just couldn't believe what he heard. That idiot in there didn't even bother to get help?

“Trust me, knowing Peter is responsible for about half of my grey hairs. The other half is on you, kiddo”, Tony added with a grin and Harley actually managed a real grin back at him.

“I'm not that idiotic and self-sacrificial, though.”

“No”, Tony agreed, “but you're a snarky little shit that terrorizes my company.”

“Which, I'm pretty sure, is why you love me.”

“Unfortunately, yes”, Tony smiled back and gently kissed Harley's cheek.

“Well, unfortunately, I love you, too.”

.-.-.-.-.

Peter was in the infirmary for three days. Three days, in which he was swamped with visits from Avengers, including plenty of goodies, to help him recuperate. Thor's cookies, of which he got a fresh plate every day, definitely helped a lot. But so did Tasha's spider-pillow, the waffles from Clint, and Bucky telling him stories of Captain America in his youth was just pure comedy-gold.

The one who kept his distance was Harley. It wasn't that he never came or ignored him. Sometimes, when Peter woke up, he found Harley by his bedside, napping with his head just short of brushing against Peter's arm. They were never alone though, at least Mr Stark and May always were with him, and Peter seldom woke up to less than three Avengers checking in on him.

It was day four post incident, that he and Harley had the chance to talk, just the two of them. Peter's side was healed up well enough that Dr Strange didn't deem it necessary for Peter to be in the medbay anymore, but thought it best if he stayed a few more days at the compound, so everybody could keep an eye on him.

Peter was by himself in his room, after begging Aunt May and Mr Stark to let him be for an hour at least, saying he had school things to read up on (which of course he didn't do, but with this excuse, they backed off), when someone knocked on his door.

“It's me”, Harley announced and Peter shot a web to pull open the door. “Hi.”

“Hey”, Peter smiled back and motioned for Harley to come inside and sit down.

“How are you feeling?”

If Peter had gotten a dollar every time someone had asked him that in the last four days, he wouldn't have to worry about college tuition any more.

“I'm ok. And you?”

“Yeah, me too.” Harley climbed up on the bed, sitting opposite Peter. “Figured we should talk it out before it gets really bad.”

“Yes please”, he smiled relieved. “I really think that it would be good to get everything out in the...”

“I like you”, Harley blurted out. “Like a lot. Like I'm really into you.”

Oh. Peter stared at him, while his brain tried to understand what he just heard. Up until now, he had thought that everything Aunt May and Mr Stark tried to tell him about his reciprocated feelings was too good to be true.

“Can you please say something?”, Harley remarked after a while, blushing red like Peter's spider-suit.

“Yeah. I, uhm, I like you, too. So very much. Like... The last few months, were pretty real to me.”

“So, we were actually dating these last months, without realizing it. We really are geniuses, huh?”

“Definitely”, Peter grinned. “But, before you say anything else, I've been thinking a lot these last few days, and... Don't get me wrong, I would love to be your boyfriend, your real one I mean. But I think that if we want this to work out, we should maybe take it down a notch, at least for a while.”

Peter took a deep breath and, since Harley looked at him with wide eyes, clearly not following what Peter was trying to say, he continued. “I know that I kept a lot from you. And that I lied to you. And that's not cool and not ok and not the proper basis for a relationship. So, until you and I both know that you're cool with Spidey and with everything, I think we should maybe stick with just friends.”

As hard as it was to say, Peter was glad he said it. And, after his reasoning dawned on Harley, he nodded. “Ok. Because as long as there's wariness, dating wouldn't be fair to either one of us.”

“Right. So, for now I'd say we go back to normal. We meet at Ned's for Lego, we screw around in the lab, I'll go patrolling, but will definitely tell you about it, and every time there's something Spidey you need to know or vent or shit, you can let it all out. Ok?”

“Ok”, Harley smiled. “That is so super considerate of you that I don't even know what to say. I've been thinking the same thing for the last few days, but was worried that you'd think I'm not interested in you any more. Romantically, you know?”

The way Peter's heart skipped a beat and send the butterflies in his stomach to work, Peter did definitely know. And hopefully, by his heart eyes, Harley could tell as well, because right now, Peter had no idea how to communicate his feelings any other way.

“'kay, then”, Harley cleared his throat after a while. “I should probably let you rest up. Thor's already in the kitchen again, and I think this time he and Loki are making a cake for you and yeah, you need to be rested for that party.”

“You can stay though. If you want”, he quickly added, worried he already crossed a line in their weird not-really-dating-but-not-just-friends-either-relationship. “I mean, I was just gonna read the comics, Ned sent and you can chill too, if you'd like.”

“Yeah.” Harley blushed a bit, before the smile took over. “I'd like to.”

When later that afternoon, Tony glanced into Peter's room to invite him to the god of thunder's chocolate cake, he could only smile at the scene in front of him. Peter and Harley, side by side, their noses in the same comic book as they silently read the story.

There wasn't particularly much cuddling going on, but they were finding their way to get back in sync and Tony was sure that before they'd know it, they'd officially be a couple.

.-.-.-.-.

“Parker, you in there?”

“I'm almost ready!”, Peter called back to Harley, who knocked on his door. “You can come in, though.”

He walked out of his bedroom's ensuite, just having given his outfit the once over, before he'd head out to the Avenger Christmas party. Unlike Halloween it would only be the inner circle, Avengers and his family, all people that he held close and loved so much and Peter had been looking forward to it all month.

Harley stood a little awkwardly in the doorway, a big bag in his hands.

“You alright?”

“Yeah”, he nodded, blushing ever so adorably, “I just wanted to give you your Christmas present.”

“But it's only Christmas Eve! We're doing presents tomorrow morning with everybody!”, Peter protested. “Your gift is under the tree already, we can't exchange them just yet!”

“Just shut it, Parker. This is sort of for the both of us and I really want us to have it now.” He held the paper bag out to Peter, who was too damn curious to argue it any longer.

The bag felt soft, squishy, had to be some fabric. “Please tell me, those are matching Christmas sweaters”, he giggled as he opened the bag and yes, they were.

“Omigod, Harley, I love Christmas sweaters!” He got the red and blue sweaters out, hppy to see his Spider-Man colours. There was a smaller one, that had to be his. Framed by stars and baubles and shit it said: 'SUPERHERO'. The bigger one, probably Harley's then, said: 'HIS DAMSEL IN DISTRESS'.

“Please, like you'd need me to save your ass, Keener”, he grinned over after reading them.

Harley just looked completely exasperated and somewhat aghast.

“What? Did I miss something?” Why did Harley look like Peter was an idiot?

“Yeah, you did”, Harley rolled his eyes and walked up to Peter, closer, until they were almost touching. “You're a superhero fan, you figure it out.”

The way Harley stared into Peter's eyes, he could barely think a proper thought, well, any other than fuck, I'd like to kiss him now. But he could figure this, apparently very obvious thing, out. Superheroes and their damsels... There was Superman and Lois Lane, The Flash and Iris West and oh.

Harley was saying he was Peter's damsel, his love interest.

“Really?” Peter beamed at Harley, who smiled back even wider.

“Yeah. I officially want to be your damsel. And...”

Peter didn't really bother waiting to hear the rest of the speech, not now at least. With all the white noise in his head, he wouldn't be able to grasp any of it anyway, so instead he got on his toes and pressed his lips against Harley's. After a shocked moment, Harley's lips twitched into a smile as he kissed Peter back, lighting up all the fire works.

It took them another fifteen minutes, but finally they made it to the common room, in their matching sweaters, fingers intertwined. The knowing grin, Tony, May and all the Avengers shot them was clear enough an indication that they didn't need to bother with an explanation; their get-up was enough of a statement. And so was, when Peter pulled Harley under the mistle toe.

The new year was gonna be just right.

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