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thepremedthatwrites · 4 years

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May I request a smut/fluff where Peter and his wife finally sleep together! They have been married for 6 months and never did it since their marriage was arranged and Peter use to have many mistresses (before marriage). His wife and him barely speak but respect/love! Can it be when Peter is the High King of Narnia and where the wife asks him to sleep with her since she heard the court is talking about her because she still isn’t with child and Peter consoles her that he doesn’t care about that.

Get to Know You

I’m so sorry this took so long! College just started so it took some time for me to get adjusted to the new schedule. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

warning: smut below the cut

I turned over to my side, watching the sleeping man next to me. The soft moonlight that poured through the large windows gave the room enough light that I could just make out his features. Even after six months, I would still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, confused as to where I was until I saw the mop of blond hair on the other pillow. I wasn’t in Telmar anymore. Instead, I was in Narnia and the golden band on my left hand reminded me why I was here - an arranged marriage.

I turned so my back was to Peter, not wanting him to wake up to the sight of me staring at him. I had to admit, I was lucky to have been married off to such a handsome man. I had heard horror stories of girls my age being married to men who could be their fathers. I slowly climbed out of bed, not wanting to wake Peter. I felt goosebumps start to rise from my skin as my body left the warm blankets and now only had the thin silk nightgown as a barrier from the cool night air. I winced as the large door creaked open, stopping momentarily to glance at Peter who was still fast asleep, his soft snores barely audible over the sound of my heartbeat.

I slipped out of the door, careful to quietly close it behind me. I wandered the halls, not entirely sure where I was heading. My eyes wandered the ornately decorated halls, admiring the beauty of the castle. I continued walking in silence, enjoying the seemingly empty castle which allowed me to think. “Six months,” I heard a voice say. I stopped in my tracks before pressing my body against the cool stone wall. I was sure that if someone caught me wandering the castle alone at night, they would scold me for being so careless or even worse - assume I was on my way to meet another man.

“The King and Queen of Archenland announced their pregnancy within three months of their marriage,” a second voice said, this one much deeper than the other.

“Do you think she’s infertile?” the first voice inquired. They seemed to snarl the word infertile as if just the thought of it was repulsive.

“Perhaps they never consummated their marriage.” The voices lowered for a moment and I strained to hear anything else they might say. Was this truly what Narnians thought of me?

“What good is she if she can’t even produce an heir to the throne?” I heard one of them say. I wanted to scream, to turn the corner and confront whoever these people were. But I couldn’t because I knew they were right. My job was to give Peter an heir but how could I do that when we’ve never even had sex? While I had been grateful that he never pushed to do anything in the bedroom, I couldn’t help but feel some guilt. I quickly spun around and made my way back to my shared bedroom with Peter.

My vision had become blurred by the times I reached the mahogany double doors. I blinked, releasing the first set of tears as I opened the door slowly. I wiped away the set of tears only for them to immediately be replaced. I wrapped myself in the blankets, the sound of Peter’s snoring the only thing able to be heard as I quietly cried myself to sleep.

I woke up to Peter’s arms around me. He must have moved in his sleep as I didn’t remember falling asleep like that. Although I was practically in the arms of a stranger, the feeling was comforting. His body was pressed against my back, his scent finding its way to my nose. His arms were tanned and strong due to hours of training underneath the sun. I craned my neck to look behind me. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open. When asleep, the features of his face were soft unlike how they were in his usual day-to-day affairs with diplomats and other monarchs. When consciousness left Peter, you could still see a hint of the scared 13-year-old who arrived at Narnia all those years ago.

I hesitantly moved my hand to his forearm, allowing my hand to rest gently on him. It felt natural cuddling with him. I felt Peter’s body move behind me, the arm that had been around me slowly leaving me. I moved my hand from Peter, turning to face him. “Sorry,” he murmured as he started to get up, the blankets falling from his upper body and collecting around his hips.

“For what?” I asked, slowly getting up as well.

“I didn’t mean for you to wake up like that.”

“In your arms?” He nodded.

“It’s just I heard you crying last night and I guess that’s all I could think of to make you feel better,” he replied. “I guess that was stupid of me.”

“No, it’s not,” I said quickly, embarrassment settling in as I realized he heard me crying. We sat there in silence, lost in our own thoughts.

“Why were you crying?” His voice was gentle as he asked, his blue eyes watching me, gauging my response.

“It’s nothing,” I replied. “It’s stupid.”

“(Y/n),” Peter said, his voice stern and his body now fully facing me. “We’re husband and wife now. I know that these conditions probably weren’t what you pictured when you dreamed of your picture-perfect marriage but if we’re gonna make the best of what we have, then we have to communicate.”

“It’s just,” I started, feeling my throat get tight as I fought back the tears, “Last night, I overheard some people talking about how I’m not with child yet. I can’t even do the one job that I have as your wife.”

“Who said that?” Peter asked. His voice was sharp and there was a fire behind his eyes.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see them,” I said, turning away from him as I felt the beginning of my tears fall down my face. I couldn’t let him see me like this.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer. “Look at me.” I slowly turned to Peter, my (e/c) eyes meeting his blue ones. He reached towards me, wiping away my tears. “I don’t care about whether you have a child or not. What I care about is you. I want you to be happy (y/n).”

“How can you care about me? You barely even know me,” I mumbled, studying my hands.

Peter sat quietly for a moment, lost in his thoughts before speaking again, “I have an idea.”

“A cottage in the middle of the woods?” I questioned as the carriage slowed to a stop. Peter had cleared both of our schedules for the weekend before packing our things in a carriage and taking us into the middle of the woods.

“It used to be Mr. Tumnus’ house before he moved into the castle.” We walked into the cozy cottage, one of the castle’s servants bringing in our stuff. “He said we could use it for the weekend.”

“This is so cute!” I exclaimed, looking around. There was a small kitchenette, a cozy fireplace with two armchairs, and pictures of the faun and his family decorating the place.

“Would you like some tea?” Peter asked as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Do you know how to heat up water?” I questioned causing Peter to scoff.

“I’m not completely helpless,” he replied as he searched for the necessary ingredients. I settled into the armchair, looking around the room for any firewood. To my surprise, there was a small pile of it in the corner despite the house being empty for years. I got up before placing a few logs into the fireplace. I grabbed the flint and steel that sat next to the firewood before starting the fire. The room was filled with the crackling of the fire as Peter made his way over with two cups of tea.

The sun had set long ago, the fire now the only source of light in the cottage. Peter sat in the armchair opposite of mine in silence, his body stiff, and his eyes glazed over in thought. I chuckled. “Is His Majesty having difficulty starting a conversation with his own wife?” His face held a soft pink tint as he gave a sheepish smile.

“I’ve never really been on a date before.” I raised my eyebrows. Everyone knew that Peter was notorious for his mistresses before we were married. Someone had once told me he had three girls in his room in one night. “I never really had to talk to the girls I slept with before,” he added as if reading my mind.

“Well, you usually start with something easy. Like how was your day?”

“Well I woke up next to this gorgeous girl,” Peter started, causing me to giggle.

“Peter!” I chastised. “Try to be a little serious!”

“Alright, I woke up to my gorgeous wife,” he said causing me to roll my eyes. “But you see, she was upset so I planned this getaway to make her feel better. When I told Susan she freaked out, saying how I was supposed to be going to an important meeting tomorrow with the King of Archenland. But I reminded her that Lune and I are already well acquainted and I was sure he wouldn’t mind talking to her or Edmund or Lucy. Then I had to find people to help clean up the cottage so it would be ready for tonight and let me tell you, this place was a dump before.” I nodded along, a smile on my face as I listened to Peter describe his day. “How about you (y/n)? How was your day?”

“Let’s see, I woke up in the arms of my husband but you already know all of that,” I started, pausing to think, “So after that, I went to the library where I saw Edmund. I played chess with him for a while but it wasn’t long till he beat me. He wanted to play again but I refused, accusing him of just wanting to play another round cause he knew he would beat me again. So then I went to the horse stable where I saw Lucy sneaking some of the horses extra apples. When I asked her why apparently she does this a lot so I obviously helped her by getting more apples and sugar cubes from the kitchen.” Peter and I sat there in front of the fireplace for a few hours, talking about anything that came to mind. Peter was in the middle of talking about a book he had just finished reading when I yawned.

“(Y/n), if I’m boring you, you can just tell me,” Peter chuckled, getting up.

“No, I’m fine. Continue talking, I’m having such a great time hearing you talk about your nerd book.”

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” He bent over, picking me up in his arms and causing me to yelp in surprise.

“Peter, I am totally capable of walking by myself,” I stated as he carried me bridal-style towards the bed.

“But this is so much more fun.” His face held a mischievous smile as he turned to me. I felt my heart start to race as I noticed just how close our faces were. I moved my hand to his face, caressing his cheek as he laid me down on the bed. His body was hovering over mine, our faces still only inches apart. Peter and I hadn’t kissed since our wedding day. And that kiss was so different from the kiss in the cottage. On our wedding day, there hadn’t been any emotions. The kiss had merely been our duty as royals.

This kiss was overflowing with emotion. It was a kiss where tongues danced together and teeth clashed. Where hair was pulled and hands wandered the body. Peter pulled away for a moment, both of us panting from the intensity of it all. “We can stop now if you want,” he said softly.

I shook my head. “I want to do this Peter.” It was all he needed as he expertly untied the knots of my dress before pulling it off of me, revealing myself to him. He took a step back, his eyes wandering my body for a moment. As I stood naked underneath his stare, I could help but start to cover myself. He was sure to have had much more beautiful women in his bed before. I was probably repulsive compared to them. Peter took a step towards me, moving my hands away from my body.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, love,” he said in almost a growl. The way he spoke those words caused butterflies in my stomach. He slowly backed up before ripping off his shirt, revealing his upper half. I subconsciously licked my lips as my eyes wandered his body. I walked towards him as he pulled down his pants, his erection springing free. I put out my hand before slowly wrapping my fingers around him. I had only ever read of this stuff in erotica. I could only hope that I knew what to do, the last thing I wanted was to embarrass myself in front of my husband.

Peter took a deep inhale as I started to slowly stroke him. I looked up at him. His head had fallen back and his eyes were now closed. I knelt down so that my face was level with his cock. I watched my hand travel from the base to the tip and back again. Peter let out a low moan which encouraged me to go farther. I let my tongue touch the tip, the salty taste dancing on my tastebuds. I circled my tongue on his tip before starting to take more of him. I opened my mouth as wide as I could, pushing my face closer to his base before feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat.

I pulled back, letting his cock fall from my mouth before grabbing it in my hand. I looked up to see his piercing blue eyes looking down at me. I licked my lips, diverting my eyes for a second to his cock. I guided it back into my mouth. As I started to bob my head up and down his cock, I kept my eyes locked on his. “You’re doing so good,” he gasped as his tip hit the back of my throat again. I pulled back slightly, allowing my tongue to run along his cock, gauging his reactions. “Fuck,” he gasped as my tongue swirled around his tip. “Get up (y/n),” he commanded. His voice was stern and as I got up, I looked into his lidded eyes to see they were filled with lust and desire.

He pushed me onto the bed, kissing me passionately until I was left gasping for air. He sucked and bit down my neck before stopping at my breasts. He put one in his mouth, his tongue dancing around my nipple causing me to moan. Without warning, he bit down on my nipple causing my back to arch at the sudden surge of pleasure. He went on to do the same with the other breast before starting another trail of bites and kisses down my stomach and to my now wet and aching pussy.

I held my breath in anticipation as I felt his ragged breathing against me. Just as I was about to tell him to stop teasing, he harshly licked my clit causing me to cry out in pleasure and my back to arch. He began to suck on my clit, dragging his tongue along the sensitive bundle of nerves before swirling it around causing me to let out my moans freely. “Peter!” I gasped as he entered a finger in my dripping entrance. He added another before allowing them to go in deeper. He curled his fingers causing them to hit my g-spot. He continued to fuck me with his fingers while his tongue played with my clit.

“Peter,” I gasped. “I gonna…” Before I could finish my sentence, I let out a scream. My eyes were forced closed as my thighs squeezed Peter’s head, my hips rising to meet him. Peter gradually slowed down, leading me down from my high. I cautiously opened my eyes to see his face hovering over mine.

“You did so well, love,” he whispered into my ear before starting a trail of kisses from my ear to the front of my neck to my lips. I kissed him back hungrily, tasting myself on him. “Are you ready?” he asked as he pulled away. My eyes lingered on his hardened cock which was already leaking with precum. I nodded frantically, not trusting my words. He chuckled darkly before lining himself with me. I let out a gasp as he pushed into me, his cock stretching me out.

My hands reached out, gripping onto his forearm as he started a slow pace. “Fuck (y/n). You fit me so well,” Peter praised as his pace started to quicken. I let out a whimper as the pleasure started to spread throughout my body. Peter leaned down, kissing me harshly. My hands became entangled in his hair, tugging on his golden locks causing him to let out a groan. The pace he was at was now merciless, the bed frame banging against the wall.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, the new position allowing him to go deeper into me. I was now a moaning mess underneath him. A layer of sweat covered my body as the cottage was filled with our moans and the creak of the bed. I felt the familiar feeling start to form. “Peter,” I moaned. “I’m so close.”

“Me too, love.” He pulled away so that he was now upright. He grabbed my leg and raised it so that it was now up vertically in the air.

“Oh God,” I moaned as the new position somehow made it even more pleasurable, something I didn’t know was possible. I wasn’t going to last much longer. “Fuck Peter,” I moaned as my walls clenched around him. My entire body shook as my orgasm rippled through me.

“(Y/n),” he moaned, falling forward as I felt something warm spurt inside of me. I was still slightly shaking as Peter came down from his high. He brushed away a (h/c) lock from my face before looking down at me with a smile. He buried his face into the crook of my neck, littering the skin with kisses, before pulling out of me and rolling to my side.

“That was…” I started, not sure how to finish the sentence. Words couldn’t even start to describe how I felt.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. I cuddled closer to him, his strong arms wrapping around me. I was starting to fall asleep when I thought I heard Peter say something. It might have just been a part of my dream that had started to manifest in my mind but I could have sworn I heard Peter say “I love you.”

#peter pevensie #peter pevensie x reader #peter x reader #the chronicles of narnia #narnia #peter pevensie fanfic #peter pevensie preference #fanfic #imagine #preference #peter pevensie fluff #narnia fanfiction

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faustonastring · 4 years

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Could I get headcanons for the main six with mc who is obsessed with stuffed animals?

Thanks for requesting I hope you like it :)

Request are open! :))

Main six with an mc who is obsessed with stuffed animals

Asra

He thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world

Every time he travels away from you, he always brings you one back that represents where he traveled (a modern day example would be a teddy bear with a sombrero to represent Mexico, (just so you get the picture)) he also gets to them as presents for birthdays and holidays anniversaries

In a modern au, you both more or likely have a beanie baby collection hiding somewhere in the shop, you both probably brought another beanie baby snail so you could recreate the “snesbian”(snail lesbian) wedding you saw on tiktok

Early in you’re relationship (pre-upright) before he can take you on trips with him he finds it really comforting to know that you have a cuddle buddy or two to keep you company while he’s away, but after you’ve been together for a while (post-upright) don’t be surprised when you wake up and all your stuffed animals are on the floor (that is if you sleep with them of course!)

I also really like the idea of asra trying to make you a stuffed animal for your birthday or anniversary, or any other celerbration (something a like his Faust trinket you can get from the wheel, just a little more improved, )

Apologies in advance for the angst BUT If you’ve had this obsession pre-memory lost, when you’re,,,, y’know (trying to keep this as spoiler free as I can for some of the new guys!) he clutches on to it every night while he’s trying to sleep, crying out you’re name, (and probably uses it in his studies to try to get you back,) and post-y’know, he brings it with him during all his trips because of how much he hates being away from you, and if you’ve grown fond of that one, he’ll bring another one you like a lot, he feels bad but he can’t help it, he just misses you so much

Also some of you are gonna hate me for this but piggy backing off of that angst I just wrote, imagine Julian and asra in the shop, doing...their....studies..(if you know you know) and Julian just sees the stuffed animal in the bed and asks why asra has it (and being himself try’s to make a joke about asra needing to sleep with a stuffed animal, when he can just sleep with him instead-) and asra just kicks him out, and they never talk about it again.

Nadia

She’s on it. She’ll ask you a million questions, “what kind do you like, do you need to sleep with any, do you want a custom one, or a spefic kind?”

Her room is so cluttered with stuffed animals by the end of the week, that she makes you pick out you’re favorite one (which quickly turns into ten or twenty) and the rest go to their own separate room in the palace, where they’re put on display, and easily accessible for you to switch out with any of the ones In you’re too, that you’re bored with

In a modern au I feel like Nadia would also be on bored for collecting beanie babies, but unlike asra who’s only in it for the snesbian wedding she wants all of the rare ones doesn’t matter how much they cost, she has them, it’s not even about you at this point, when Nadia gets a kick you just gotta let her ride it out.

I think it’s canon (or atleast close to canon) that Nadia loves to design clothes, I mean we all know she loves to tinker, but I think she’ll find it really relaxing destining new stuffed animals with you and clothes for some of the ones you already have if you’d want (and yes. She makes matching ones for you and you’re favorites)

If you do sleep with them, Nadia might find it a little hard to sleep with all the clutter around the bed so she’ll thoss the ones your not cuddling off the bed (or if she’s having a real sleepless night, she’ll throw them across the room) but nonetheless if you’re happy she’s happy, she’ll never get agitated at you for having your own interest (despite tripping over like three of them while trying to start her day)

Also I feel like atleast one of Nadias sisters had that stuffed animal phase as a kid, if you know baby....then you know so I feel like it’s really refreshing for her to be able to keep stuffed animals around without having to hear someone scream and whine because they couldn’t get the one they wanted

Julian

The day after you tell him he brings you a doctor teddy bear, wearing a hand-sewn eye patch witch Portia more or likely helped him make (note that I said helped he wanted to try to make it on his own... but surgical stitches are a lot diffrent from things such as cross stitches,,,, and the fabric is just a lot more flimsy then human flesh)

He likes to bring you ‘fun’ ones as he calls them, teddy bears dressed as pirates, doctors, flappers, any kind that matches you’re faveroite animal, pigs decked out in fancy clothes (the vesuvia verson of Miss piggy) espically if he knows you like them, he would do anything to see you laugh and smile, especially if it’s from one of his gifts, it makes his heart jump

In a modern au, you could spend your quality time making fun of the ridiculous beanie baby prices, but for the love of god please don’t say you find a beanie baby who’s highest bidding price is over one hundred dollars cute, because HE WILL bid on it and the price DOESNT MATTER (also- self indulgent but If you have a furby espically the older ones, it will freak Julian the hell out, and he will quickly turn it so it’s not looking at him every time he enters a room)

Every time you travel together he checks all the touristy gift shops for a stuffed animal you like, and will happily buy you any type you like, and it doesn’t matter how big it is. He WILL make it fit in his suit case, even if it means he has to leave a couple pairs of shoes behind.....

If you sleep with any of you’re stuffed animals he doesn’t mind, I mean sure he ends up laying on a couple of them, and the do end up getting tangled in his limbs, but he finds it cute and is willing to make a sacrifice, and if he were to come in late from working overtime and caught you sleeping cuddling the doctor teddy bear he gave you....with the eyepatch that he helped make....he wouldn’t want to disturb you... so he pulls up a chair and watches you sleep in the least creepy way possible

If you two are ever trying to do the do and your stuffed animal is In the room... or even better facing towards the bed... I think it would make Julian the slightest bit uncomfortable but would just laugh it off and say something along the lines of “I didn’t know we had and audience” or “looks like we have a guest” which would be terrifying if he were to say that mid-ya know

Portia

You two vibe so hard

Out of everyone I feel like she is definitely the most enthusiastic and chill about having stuffed animals in her cottage, and I mean sure they’re everywhere and she’s tripped on atleast six of them... but as long as pepi doesn’t get too any of them( again) you’re fine

I like to imagine she has something (other than Julian) that survived the ship wreck with her, wether that be a blanket or a stuffed animal (for the sake of this head canon it’s a stuffed animal) that she holds very close to her yes this is very unlikely given, well all the factors but she deserves something, and if your really against that idea, a little stuffed animal Julian gave her when she was a kid before he left

I can’t keep headcanoning that every one has a thing for beanie babies in a modern au, even though she has a snesbian wedding in her garden with a snesbian officiant which she photographs and gets tiktok famous off of.... she’ll be more into anything Sanrio related, like don’t leave this girl alone in round one because she’s already spent 150 trying to win the rilakkuma stuffed animal that’s riiiiight over the edge (after many many try’s, she does win it, and gives it to you)

She is the type to sew, or crochet, or even knit you stuffed animals, and those are usually the ones she ends up giving you, if not? They definitely were handmade from somewhere, probably a small shop or from an old lady selling them at the heart district

If you sleep with stuffed animals....well good news because so does she! Throughout the night not only are you to fighting for the blanket (if it’s during winter) but now you’re fighting over the stuffed animals, and every night as soon as one of you says you’re going to bed, it’s a race to see who can get to bed first and hog all the stuffed animals, (which may lead to a pillow fight if you’re lucky)

One time pepi tore up one of you’re faveroite stuffed animals and Portia felt so bad about it that she not only made pepi her own toys to play with, but sewed up your toes up one, and if it was beyond repair, she would make you an identical one

(Also Portia is the type to spend 100 dollars at a carnival trying to knock the milk bottles down so she can win her s/o a cheap stuffed dog that pepi is gonna claw into anyway...but it’s the thought that counts :’) )

Muriel

Does. Not. Understand. But hey! He’s trying~! A+ for effort right?

He wants to make it clear that it’s NOTHING to do with you, he finds it ADORBALE! He really really does and he’s trying hard to express that but depending where you are in your relationship with him....makes a little bit of a difference, so for the sake of the headcanon muriels headcanon is gonna be soon after his upright endeding so expect some assumptions about his character but I do know that people just don’t change over night so one things for sure....he still doses to fully understands soft nice things

I think Muriel likes to hear you talk, like sure he prefers the quiet, but out of everyone in the world, your the only person he doesn’t mind listening to (how sweet! ) so he probably asks you a lot of questions, but not necessarily like Julian, more questions that ask why you like them, because he wants to like them too, and you want him to like them too, but you do still have some work ahead of you

In a modern au.....build a bear dates @lisa-frank-cave did a headcanon on it a while back that I REALLY liked, it is a little buried so if you’re having trouble finding it lmk and I can reblog it for you, but atleast visits their page and look for it because their stuff is super good! :) so for sure go check out their head canon for it if you want something more in depth but to just elaborate my thoughts on it, it’s just something the two of you could do together (and I feel like Muriel loves spending time with you no matter what activity it is) I also feel like he’d like being able to make something with you, which works out great if you can’t whittle to save you’re life,,,and I dunno,,,it just makes me soft,,,,

I don’t like the head canon that Muriel has bug clumsy hands, he can whittle for gods sake! And used to make masquerade masks for asra to sell pre-plague times, (and made his own in every route but his own) so I feel like Muriel would atleast attempt ONCE to sew or crochet you a stuffed animal, it’s a little tragedy looking, and over time it starts to fall apart at the seams, but he made it for you, and seeing you love it so much let’s him know all his hard work payed off, and he’ll make you another one or two

He doesn’t mind if you sleep with stuffed animals, but he apologizes in advance if they get crushed (the bed is barley big enough for the both of you) and gets a little jealous if you’re cuddling you’re stuffed animal instead of him, he won’t say anything but he’ll for sure get pouty about, and as cute as he is when he’s pouty make sure you don’t cuddle you’re stuffed animals more than him, because if you do it will start to get to him if you know what I mean

Also refuses to have sex if stuffed animals are on the bed or facing the bed, if they’re on the bed, he’ll throw them off, facing the bed, he’ll turn them around, he just doesn’t like the idea of being watching while being intimate with you

Lucio

If I’m being honest will make fun of you a tiny bit at first (he’ll stop he he strikes a nerve) but soon finds the appeal

Mama morga didn’t let him have stuffed animals growing up, for a while there she didn’t even want him sleeping with a blanket, so he’s alllll over this, but yeah you’re stuffed animals are cute, but he wants a spefic type of stuffed animals.... next thing you know Lucio says he got some stuffed animals for you two to share, and it’s just about 30 diffrent variations of goats. But hey! Atleast he offered to share!

In a modern au I feel like lucio would be overly enthusiastic to go to build a bear that he nearly crushes a kid with his knock off red bottoms trying to get in there, dragging you behind him, then impatiently rushes the whole process not making too enjoyable for you (depending on who you are of course) but lucio just seems to be having fun! (Also goes on a Saturday afternoon and they are like four kids celebrating their birthday and a line that goes out the door, unlike Muriel who goes early Sunday morning or Tuesday night to beat the crowds)

He personally likes anything goat related, but also likes custom made ones made with red velvet and and gold stitching, and will happily buy you or get any kind you want customed made, and on you’re birthday? When you wake up in the morning the room is covered with all diffrent typed of stuffed animals, and lucio is beaming proudly in the middle of it

If you sleep with them then no problem! Lucio would too! But if he catches you cuddling a certain stuffed animal more than him then it might just....disappear for a while...but if he sees you upset or worried that you can’t find it, don’t worry! It will reappear again.... or something very similar to it.....

One time Mercedes and Melchior tore up one of you’re favorite stuffed animals (again) so lucio had them kicked out of his bedroom...or so he said, what really happened is while he was waiting for your replacement to come in, he wanted to act all tuff and kick Mercedes and Melchior our to assert his dominance, but secretly still played with them and let them back in you’re room when you weren’t around. You know. But you pretend that you don’t

Thanks for reading if you would like something more spefic welll.....

My request are open! :)

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imlostinsantacarla · 4 years

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How do the gang (individually) react to a SO who's affectionate and supportive

heya hun! i’m so glad you’ve requested this, it was fun to write. i added tim and curly too bc they deserve some love also. i hope that you like what i came up with! - admin kat 🌙❣

HOW THE GANG REACT TO HAVING A S/O WHO’S AFFECTIONATE AND SUPPORTIVE:

Darry: doesn’t always seem like it but he doesn’t ever take your affection and support for granted, although he may come across as cold. he’s a tad bit overwhelmed when he comes home and you plaster yourself to him like glue, he can even appear irritated but he knows that you’re just showing you love him in the only way you know best. he just wishes that you’d give him a minute to get through the door and shower first before you latch onto him. nevertheless, darry is genuinely over the moon when you support him, his brothers and the gang. his hearts wells up like the grinch when he finds the meaning of christmas! it’s in the little things like when you patch steve and soda up after they’ve gotten into a fight with soc’s. helping ponyboy and johnnycake study on the living room floor. talking dal out of some real dumb shit. even by sitting at the kitchen table with him and sifting through all the bills. he turns into the biggest sucker ever when you do this stuff. all the little things you do never get’s overlooked by him. it definitely helps ease his stress knowing that his partner supports him no matter what.

Sodapop: genuinely loves you even more for both of these endearing qualities, if that’s even logically possible??? he loves that your affection and attention is on him 25/7 and when you give it to him... boii is like !!!!!!!!!!!!!! he just knows you love him so much and he’s so excited by it. your support really reinforces it all the more if i’m honest. soda actually balled once about you supporting him bc he opened up to you about a dream of his which was to open up an auto repair shop with steve and you were like “cool stuff man let’s do this!”. and he was believing you’d knock his head in like dar would, but he just was star struck with you. steve had to calm his ass tf down bc soda’s a gREASER AND GREASERS DON’T CRY IDK WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!!! but yeah, he thinks he’s so dumb and stuff, but to have you support him and lift him up makes him unbelievably happy. 11/10 a happy boiii.

Ponyboy: totally gets all blushy when you get affectionate with him in front of others (namely the gang) bc they tease tf out of him. those boys never let him live shit down like that. it only makes you pinch his cheeks and wiggle his face in your hands and that’s when two-bit can’t stop laughing and has to tell the others. he’s a bit sour afterwards but there’s no hard feelings. boii is s o f t as hell for you and loves your affection and support. you never fail to brighten his day tbh. he wants your attention on him 25/8 like soda and becomes a pouty baby when you don’t give him it. and your support? *chef kiss* makes his whole world better bc despite the fact he’s not tough and all, but more sensitive, you’re there for him through it all. did i mention he get’s butterflies and his heart gallops- pls don’t shoot me it had to be said!

Steve: loves it even when he says he hates it. steve loves your hugs, kisses, the way you play with his hair when you cuddle, you name it. just not when the guys are around. gotta keep up the greaser image *finger guns*. you tend to show up at his work with lunch and he’s got complete heart eyes bc you’re all over him. there’s no way in hell soda lets him live that ish down lmaoo. you support him more emotionally and mentally though, which he’s so grateful for because things with his old man can get pretty bad at times and he needs someone like you to bring his big butt down to earth when he’s all high on anger and frustration. like, he’s super hurt when it comes to his dad, so he’ll be ranting and raving up a storm and you’re listening but bleary eyed bc he woke your ass up as 3 in the gODDAMN MORNING and he’s talking about how his life is so shit and you come out with “well i’m not going anywhere but if you don’t get into my bed and let me sleep i’m gonna beat your ass with my pillow”. he’s stunned? bc first of all, you’re a freaking pip squeak compared to him who can’t even hurt a fly, but there’s another part of him that’s taken aback bc you’ve literally opened up your world and door to him for anytime. would 10/10 recommend this joyful boi.

Two-bit: honestly, can’t seem to get enough of you, particularly your affection, but namely your support. it’s kinda a tie can’t you see?? he’s not even annoyed or abashed when you go heavy on the affection, even in front of the guys, if anything, he’s gloating about it and hanging off of you just as much, if not more! if anyone teases you guys or makes a comment he’s got some snazzy comeback, two’s riddled with them. i swear they fall from his mouth like casual small talk. kinda starts fist fights with steve a lot when he does bc our stevie-boi is a bit sensitive. he literally somehow falls in love with you even more bc you’re supporting him positively to cut down on his drinking, get on with his school work a little more, etc. like how can he possibly deserve this literal angel that is you? he probably cries when you’re not looking. i’m not even kidding. probs just bursts into tears and pony and johnny are like you ok mannn???

Johnny: blushes the most out of everyone when you give him affection, especially when anyone’s around. he’s such a happy smol bean and he just loves you with his whole heart and universe like omg! your support means the world to him, he’d cry and be so messed up without you. but you still make him cry nonetheless. but they’re happy tears, i promise!! like he’s so astounded bc you let him stay at your’s bc your parent’s understand the situation and let him come round whenever he wants. you make sure he’s well fed and get’s a good amount of sleep in a place that’s not the lot? you complete him. you make him see that he’s more than just some kid with a bad home in a bad neighborhood... he can be anything and anyone as long as you’re by his side. the little butterflies he get’s when he sees you- !!!

Dallas: not so happy about the affection part in front of others (unless he’s jealous and wants to prove to everyone you’re his) just bc it’s uncomfy for him and he ain’t used to it. but that’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy having you all over him! bc if it was up to him he’d have you all over him every second of every day if he could. ;) in private though he’ll gripe about how mushy you are, reluctantly leaning into your embrace or letting you kiss him. like you’ll want to cuddle or hold his hand and he’ll eventually relent, muttering about broads and stuff. he only makes it seem like he hates it but he actually loves it to pieces. and when you play with his hair??? mmmmmmmm boi is putty in your hands. but seriously, your support means a lot to dal, it shows that you’re loyal to him and if you’re loyal to him he’s loyal to you. like the way you show up at the cooler to visit him brings such a huge smile to his face. no broads done that for him before. treat dally with care bc this boii is sensitive. 12/10 a happy duck.

Tim: kinda iffy about the affection. he’s a tough son of a gun and can’t have everyone knowing he’s got a partner that hangs onto him like a fly does to honey. he loves it though, really, especially when people are looking at you in interest, it serves a purpose then. he’s also in love with when you do it to freak out curly. it honestly made him cry of laughter once bc curly was about to yack in a garbage can. fun times man... fun times. anyway... your support is super wonderful for him. you visit him in the cooler a lot when he goes in, which he didn’t expect bc most people he’s dated never did that or were too mad to even show up. but here you are. you also take care of curly and angela like your own, opening up your door to them and him. he’s got a soft spot for you okay? it’s especially so bc his home life is so bad with his step dad and mum chucking things left right and center, then everyone else joining on in. it’s a tiring place. if he looks back... he doesn’t know how in the hell he survived without you before you came along and wouldn’t know how to go on without you by his side to help. but tell no one that okay? s o f t b o i v i b e s

Curly: mad happy like. until someone fucking mentions it that is. then he’s all talk and trying to get you off him. you roll your eyes bc curly’s really more talk than action and most people know it. but nevertheless, he wants everyone to know you’re his so loves it when you hang onto him like a vice. he’s not really had much affection in his life, so it’s new but he can’t seem to get enough of it. deffo a happy puppy when he gets the affection and attention. and curly’s not all that smart either, but having your support helps him to see that he just see’s things differently from other people and that school isn’t everything. and that’s okay tbh. however, you don’t support his bad behavior but you also know that you can’t change him unless he wants to change himself. he’s only just starting to get these boundaries, just give him a chance. loves your cuddles bc he can fall asleep and he always has a tough time falling asleep bc he doesn’t feel like he can trust anyone other than his brother and sister. and now he’s got you. thank god! literally the sweetest chick ever

If you enjoyed this please heart, reblog and follow for more. 🌙❣

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Name Calling (21)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION - In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

Current Word Count - 61,976

MASTERLIST

Chapter Twenty-one - A Kitten In A Birds Nest

It was kind of a relief to realize that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. You may have handed your virginity over on a sliver platter to him and enjoyed every second but make no mistake, You absolutely hated Bucky Barnes.

“Bucky, get up!” You hissed at him.

Yes, waking up in his arms had been the most transcendent experience of your life. His warmth had surrounded you all night so even deep in sleep you knew you were safe and protected. His arms, one metal, one flesh had cocooned you perfectly, never too tight. Seeing his sleeping face, his expression peaceful and his hair spread over your pillow when you opened your eyes had made a warm fuzzy feeling blossom in your chest.

Then you had looked at the time. It was past dawn and since most days you were woken up by someone walking into your room, he could not be here. He was awake, there was no way he wasn’t. You’d been whisper shouting at him for the last few minutes as you raced around the room, picking up his clothes.

“I swear to god Barnes!”

Still nothing. He was defiantly ignoring you and you’d had enough. Standing over him you attempted to shove at his shoulder but suddenly there was a sensation of falling and the whole room was spinning. You blinked at Bucky in surprise. You were flat on your back on the bed, his forearms resting on either side of your head while his body hovered over yours.

“What the fuck Bucky?”

He didn’t answer, just lazily nuzzled into your neck. You realized with a start that Bucky Barnes was adorably sleepy and was trying to buy your silence with affection.

“You have to go to your own room.” You whined half heartedly.

“You got shot doll, nobody is going to want to wake you up this early.” He groused, his voice thick with sleep.

“But if they do...” You stuttered, his stubble was rubbing against the skin of your neck and it was distracting.

“If they do, what?” He asked.

“They’ll see you.”

“And?”

“That would be bad, very very bad.” You sighed.

He lifted his head to look at you. There was a flash of hurt in his eyes.

“James...”

“I get it, can’t have people thinking you don’t hate me.” He said and rolled off at you.

You were suddenly very cold and it wasn’t just because of the loss of his body heat.

“Nobody can know this happened, because of Tony’s parents.” You stated and he stilled.

It was something you had never discussed or brought up with him before.

“Because I killed them.” He said sadly, resignedly.

“Because Hydra killed them and they used you to do it.” You corrected.

“It was still me. And Tony Starks daughter could never be with the man who murdered his parents.”

“He knows it wasn’t you, he does. He’s not angry, he doesn’t hate you. But the last the last thing his parents saw was your face and thats something he can’t forget. Every time he look at you he remembers it and it hurts him. I can’t risk him feeling that way when he looks at me Bucky, I can’t.” Your eyes were wet as you pleaded with him to understand.

“Don’t worry doll, Tony will never know you’ve been tainted by me. I’ll just be your dirty little secret.” He snapped, pulling his jeans on.

The tears spilled down your cheeks when you heard the way he said those words. Such anger and loathing but it wasn’t aimed at you, it was all for himself.

“Buck wait that’s not what I, Bucky stop!” You yelled the last part when he headed for the door.

You didn’t know what to say, you had just wanted to stop him leaving like this. So you tried honesty, you let your feeling pour out, unfiltered.

“Tony didn’t have to rescue me, he could have let the X-Men do it. He didn’t have to keep me or give me a home, he didn’t have to be so fucking patient with me. He never once snapped at me when I was asking him benign questions every five seconds or when I followed him everywhere, he didn’t make me feel weird when I crawled under his desk or wouldn’t go into a room without listening at the door first. I was freak, a broken thing and he took me in and he didn’t fix me, he stood by me and helped me fix myself. I can’t hurt him Bucky, I just can’t. But I never meant to hurt you either.”

He looked back at you and his eyes were so full of pain it knocked the breath from your lungs.

“You deserve better than me anyway sweetheart. No hard feelings.”

And then he was gone. You wanted to chase after him, to scream at him for saying such things about himself, to kiss him and show him how much you cared. But you just sat on the bed and cried because sometimes, when you hurt someone, you can’t fix it.

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Eventually hunger drove you from the sanctity of your room. Your heart was aching and you felt heavy with regret and grief. You dragged yourself to the kitchen with a blanket round your shoulders, the soft cotton acting like a shield between you and the world. You raided the cupboards for some protein bars and grabbed a bottle of water before trudging back to your room.

You were so distracted by your grief you didn’t even notice Natasha watched you from the sofa, noting your dejected body language. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as you waddled away. Something was wrong with you and she was going to figure out what.

“Post mission blues?” She called out.

You paused before poking you head back through the door, you eyes red and puffy.

“I’m fine. Just tired.” You croaked and scurried away before she could call you out on your lie.

You heard her get up knew she was following you so. Natasha could read someone with a single look, she was like a ninja Sherlock Holmes. You couldn’t face her right now so like the brave super soldier mutant you were you ran away, your blanket flapping behind you like a cape.

You raced along the corridors searching for somewhere to hide, you obviously couldn’t go back to your room now. You couldn’t go to the lab, your dad would want to know what was wrong. In fact you couldn’t hide out in someone else’s room for the same reason.

“Psst.” Someone said.

You craned your neck back to see Clint leaning out of the vent in the ceiling.

“Hiding from Nat?”

“How did you know?”

“Nat’s the only one who could put such a fearful look on someone’s face.” he explained, offering you a hand.

You only had a few seconds max before Natasha caught up but if you accepted you’d be stuck in the vents with Clint. Who was much more gullible and easier to lie to. Or threaten into silence. You shoved your water and protein bars into your pockets and jumped up to grab his hand, letting him pull you into the vents. He replaced the grate and held a finger to his lips to silence you. You peered out of the grate to see a silent red head walk underneath it and internally breathed a sigh of relief.

Clint grinned and gave you a thumbs up, pointing behind himself and motioning you to follow. He crawled away and since you didn’t have many other options you followed him. When had your life become this strange? You were following a killer archer through a ventilation system to hide from a deadly former assassin because you didn’t want her to know you’d slept with another deadly former assassin. You couldn’t make this stuff up, It was like some lonely, depressed maniac with an overactive imagination and too much time on her hands was in charge of your decisions……

You followed him for a few minutes before he led you a corner that he’d made a nest in and you snorted. He looked back over his shoulder at you with a raised brow.

“Sorry, it’s just you have an actual nest.” You chuckled.

It’s my man cave, where I come to hide from Natasha. And keep my stuff where Wilson can’t mess with it.” He told you.

Sure enough, there were arrows scattered around and piles of magazines and books.

He settled down and waved around.

“Make yourself at home, me nest su nest.”

“Thanks.” You replied, sitting cross legged and pulling your blanket cape around yourself tightly.

You dug your protein bars out of your pocket and ripped one open with your teeth but before you could take a bite Clint snatched it out of your hands with a look of disgust.

“No. Bad Kitty.” He admonished, bopping you on the nose.

You were close to biting his finger off if he tried that again when he shoved a bag of M&M’s into your hands. You cooed happily and tore them open, digging in. Clint grabbed a handful and settled with his back against the wall, watching you thoughtfully.

“So what’s got your panties in a bunch?” He asked.

You almost flinched at his phrasing but caught yourself. You couldn’t tell him everything but you had to tell him something so you opted for a watered down version of the truth.

“I think I might want something I can’t have and I went after it. Now I’ve hurt other people and I don’t know how I could have been so selfish or stupid.” You admitted.

“Is this about you going after Docherty alone?” he wondered, perplexed by your vague problem.

“Yes…..” You lied.

“Well, it was stupid. You messed up but you know you did and you can’t take it back but you can try to do better next time. But it’s a complicated situation and you did what your heart was telling you to do. That doesn’t make you a bad person, even if people got hurt in the process. Those people you’re worried about love you and would do anything for you, they’ll forgive you.” He said.

You were both talking about very different problems but someone what he said applied to your situation with Bucky. At least you hoped it did.

“If one of your kids did something they knew would hurt you but they didn’t do it because it would hurt you, could you forgive them?” You asked.

“It depends on what it was and whether it hurt them I think. I just want my kids to be happy and safe, that’s all that really matters.”

“So if it made them happy, really really happy and it would hurt them not to do it… You’d forgive them, even if it hurt you.” You clarified.

“As a parent there’s very little your kids could do that you wouldn’t forgive. Even if it breaks your heart, it’s very hard to stay angry at them.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m scared of Tony hating me, being mad at me but I’m more afraid he’d just keep loving me, even when I was causing him pain.” You admitted.

“Ok I’m lost. What are we talking about again?”

“Nothing Clint, it’s fine.” You sniffled.

“Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. I have faith in you, after everything I’ve seen you achieve.”

“Thanks Clint.”

“Maybe, if you need advice ask Laura. She’s better at this sort of thing. You and Wanda are still coming for the weekend right? I’m flying us to the farm tomorrow morning.”

“You know what? I don’t think this trip could have come at a better time.” You admitted, shoving a handful of M&M’s into your mouth.

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After spending a couple of hours in the vents with Clint, throwing M&M’s into each other mouths and seeing who had better aim (him, obviously) you had finally emerged only to land directly in front of a waiting Natasha. You sighed heavily.

“Please don’t. Not yet. I promise I’ll tell you what’s wrong, but I can’t yet.” You admitted.

“Alright Kotonok, you can tell me at the farm, away from here.” She allowed, offering your hand for you to shake on it.

You shook her hand, sealing the pact and knew you would have to admit everything to her soon but at least you had a little bit of time to process it first.

You waved at her and headed off to your room, changing into your sweats and a tank top. You weren’t allowed to spar or work out for at least a week, until your shoulder healed up but you figured that you could at least use the treadmill. Even if you weren’t supposed to, what Bruce didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. Besides, you really needed a way to release all the pent up energy inside you, you needed an outlet.

The problem was, you weren’t the only one. As soon as you walked into the gym you saw him. He was going to town on a punching bag, like it had personally offended him. Probably imagining your face on it. He stilled as he heard you come in, the muscles on his back tensing. He stood like that for a second before continuing like nothing was wrong.

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t be in the same room as him. Every single cell in your body was begging you to run to him. It was like there a string tied around your heart and he was tugging on it. You turned on your heel and walked back out but you couldn’t bring yourself to just leave without saying anything, there was something he needed to know.

“You said I deserved better than you. That’s not true. Even when we were fighting, when I was being cruel to you, you dragged me away from those journalists. You could have just got me away from them and called it your good deed for the day but you took me to the one person who could help me. You had my back in the field, leaving the main fight so I wouldn’t be alone. You have never once mentioned what you must have seen that day, when you saw Vernichtung. You came after me on a date because you were worried about me. You forgave me for hurting you and held my hand at my mothers funeral. I don’t deserve better than you, I don’t even deserve you at all. But Bucky, I want you. I need you.” You told him, sighing and walking away.

“You have me.” He whispered, but you were already gone.

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

I DID IT! I got the chapter done! WOOOO! Fuck you mean anons, and thank you nice, kind people who helped build my confidence back up. All the private mesages and anonymous kind words made me feel supported.

Next Time On Name Calling - Reader and the girls go to the farm and reader finally meets a chicken.

I write Clint as a weird blend of MCU Clint and comic Clint, I don’t really know why.

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first@chook007@thejourneyneverendsx@thelostallycat@inquisitor-selvala@the-corruptor @iovher@kendrawr-kitkat@phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat@buckitybarnes@fairislesheets@angieptt@meganjonezzzz

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty@memanda17@krystallynx@theonelittleone

@piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard

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wewillwriteyou · 5 years

Text

Friends Will Be Friends || Chapter 9

A few elements from the main plot: A very special group of friends: early days, drama, laughter, booze, success, rock stars life, girl power, friendship, love, sex, music, misunderstandings, some more drama, family. Pairings in the tags

Summary Chapter 9: Some more scenes of the two couples (J&M + R&C). The girls talk.

Word count: 3K

Warnings: Basically fluff, some teeny tiny smut (kissing and touching, but that’s it), FLUFF

A/N: Hello everyone! In this chapter, we have a few different scenes and small jump in time (the chapter begins on Monday morning, the day after John and Melissa’s date, and ends on Friday of the same week) You may not realise how important it is to the story, but trust us, it is. Without further ado, enjoy this one folks and stay tuned for the next ones lovesies 💖😏 As usual, if you like what you read, comment, like, reblog and share this with others! For everyone who follows and supports this story, thank you guys (you know who you are)! You are real stars! ⭐💗

Heaven. That’s what it felt like waking up next to him.

He still had an arm around her and was sleeping so peacefully, she didn’t want to wake him up; she just laid there, admiring his handsome features. Handsome. She couldn’t find a better adjective. His brown curls were framing his face and she instinctively intertwined her fingers in a strand: he smiled in his sleep and she could feel her heart filling with love.

Love. Melissa was not quite sure if that was love, or just a crush or physical attraction. She was never good at telling those things apart. All she knew in that moment, was that she could have easily stayed like that forever. John tiredly crinkled his eyes open, as his sight focused on the smiling face he found a few inches from him. He smiled widely and slowly got closer to place a kiss on her nose.

“Morning” he croaked in a husky voice.

“Morning” she grinned “I didn’t mean to wake you”

“It’s alright honey, I’d have to get out of this bed sometime”

“You do? I don’t think so…” she smirked and leaned in to press her lips against his.

“Well, you’re quite convincing…” he chuckled “but I have to get home before noon. I have to meet with the band in the early afternoon… you know, I thought I’d change clothes… the ones I was wearing last night are all scrambled up on the floor”

Mel giggled “Too bad… Really bad thing to happen to your poor clothes” she kissed him softly again.

“Do you want some breakfast before you leave?” she asked him between the kisses.

“Sure” he smiled and watched her get up and head out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. He let his head fall on the pillow let out a soft chuckle: is all of this even real?

Mel quietly tiptoed to the kitchen to put on the kettle.

“Well good morning, dear” Mel literally jumped up, not expecting to hear Brian’s voice.

The brunette had a smile from ear to ear “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

Mel would have wanted to disappear there and then, as she slightly nodded in agreement, giving him a small smile.

“And may I know – even if I kinda have a feeling – why was your door-” Brian’s words died on his tongue when he heard Mel’s door opening and he saw John coming out of it stretching his spine “-locked?”

When John’s eyes landed on Brian, he composed himself before smiling slightly at him and saying “Ehm… Hey mate”

Brian thought he should have seen it coming… He had hoped his ‘intervention’ would have stopped all the drama from crashing onto their lives, but as soon as he had witnessed the way those two were looking at each other during the concert some days before, he knew that everything would have led to where they were. And he was somehow happy they had found each other: he had met John just a week prior but had known Mel for quite a few years now, and he could tell, she had never looked at someone like that. He couldn’t help but smile sadly to himself, wondering if he could have ever looked at someone like that and if he could have ever felt the love he found himself writing songs about.

Suddenly waking up from his thoughts, Brian cleared his throat and said hi to his bandmate, before excusing himself into his bedroom.

John brought his hands to his face, softly laughing “Well that was a bit awkward…”

He stepped towards her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders so that they were hugged, but could still look at each other. He placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Yeah, kind of…” Mel chuckled “But that’s okay. I mean I don’t like the idea of getting busted like this, but I guess he had to find out somehow. And thank God it was Brian and not my brother, we need to be more careful” she chuckled again.

“Wait so Brian’s not your brother?” John inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

Mel was confused “Well no… Roger is my brother” she looked up at him “You know, Roger Taylor… Melissa Taylor… I thought you knew…”

“I guess I had it all wrong…”

John did not feel relieved: that only meant he had yet to face the bandmate whose little sister he had just shagged. And somehow, the idea that Roger was that bandmate made him feel more nervous than before. He had only known him for a few weeks, but he had the feeling he was a bit of a drama queen.

“Do you think you’ll tell him?”

Melissa nearly choked on the cup of tea she had poured “Tell him? Uhm… I guess I’d like to… uhm… wait? A little bit?” she put down the cup and took his hands into hers “John, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I’d like to wait telling my brother we have a…” she tried to find the rights words

“…thing,” they said in unison, then chuckled

“Yeah, that… At least until we know we’re serious, you know?” she asked him embarrassed, hoping he would not freak out at her hint of a ‘serious relationship’.

John smiled “I know what you mean” he kissed her on the tip of the nose “and I’m absolutely okay with that” he kissed her on one cheek “take things slow” he kissed her other cheek “I’m good at that” he said at last, properly kissing her on the lips.

She was pressed again the kitchen and when he deepened the kiss, she jumped on the counter, so that they were nearly the same height and she could wrap her legs around his waist.

“Someone, on the other hand, doesn’t seem really good at it” he joked.

Mel chuckled against his lips and then slowly pulled away “It’s just because you’re so irresistible”

She immediately flushed, hearing those words coming out of her mouth and John laughed out loud.

“It’s okay, darling I think you’re irresistible too” he replied, lifting up her chin to kiss her passionately again. He realized that the make-out session was making his trousers tighten around his thighs, so he regretfully pulled away.

“Look, Mel, I love what we’re doing here, but I’d rather not go for round two with Brian in the next room”

Mel could feel her cheeks heat up and discarded the embarrassment with a chuckle “Yeah that seems fair”

She jumped down and they had breakfast – well brunch, actually - together. She told him she had classes in the early afternoon and John offered her a ride before he went to meet with the guys.

As they got back to her room, John, who was already dressed in the clothes he had worn the night before, laid on the bed while Melissa went back and forth in the room to get ready. They chatted pleasantly and John kept his eyes on her the whole time, dazzled by how beautiful she looked at every stage: in her pijamas, with messy hair and no make-up; in her underwear, as she stared at her open closet, trying to figure out what to wear; and then fully dressed, a bit of make-up, hair combed straight and falling on her shoulders. She caught him staring a few times and turned around every time, to hide the red that had sprung on her cheeks.

After a half an hour they already were in the car, heading towards the Imperial. Just like the night before, John had his left hand on her lap, as she held it tight with her own. When they arrived in front of the building, Mel leaned over at him and kissed him softly and lightly.

“Thank you”

“It’s no big deal I was on my way-”

“I’m not talking about the ride…” she snickered “Thank you for everything”

John smiled back “It was my pleasure, love” and leaned in to find her lips again.

She got out of the car and they arranged to talk on the phone in the evening. Mel could not stop smiling, as she waved to the car in the distance, already lost in the streets of London.

***

Chelsea was floating around the house that Friday morning. Well, she had been floating around the whole week, actually. But that morning she was more than excited. Roger called her almost every day and invited her to have breakfast with him that Friday.

She was staring at the open wardrobe, undecided on what to wear. She decided to put on a beige skirt, with black stockings and a grey sweater. John squared her up when she came out of the bedroom and sat on the couch to put her black boots on. Chelsea felt John’s eyes on her and looked up to him; he was sitting at the table in the kitchen with a smirk on his face.

“What?” she asked him smiling.

“Nothing. You look so beautiful and happy this morning” he smiled back and Chelsea blushed, knowing that John was absolutely right. He stood up and slowly walked towards her, while she was putting on her coat.

“I knew it, anyway” he gloated. Chelsea raised an eyebrow.

“You knew what?”

“You’re happy because you solved your problems with Tom, right?” Chelsea felt her heart falling inside her chest. John looked at her so sincerely he almost looked like an innocent kid and she didn’t want to disappoint him.

“Yeah, yeah. Now I’m sorry, but I have to go or I’ll be late for work” she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and left the apartment, with the sensation of a knot tightening her stomach.

The tension walked with her along the streets, following Chelsea like a shadow. But it completely disappeared when she entered the bar and found Roger waiting for her. He was standing near the bar’s counter, sunglasses on and a cigarette between his lips. Chelsea knew she would have noticed him even in the most crowded place.

Only Roger could look good in that furry coat and skinny jeans, as his pink lips were wrapped around the almost finished cigarette, that he threw in the ashtray seconds after.

Chelsea waved at him and he immediately smiled, approaching her. Roger didn’t give her the time to say a word, crashing his lips against hers; Chelsea was melting under his touch and when he pulled away she was sure she had a dreamy expression written all over her face.

“You’re stunning, honey” he finally said when they sat down on their table. Chelsea thanked him, looking to the ground and blushing.

They soon ordered the food and, while Chelsea was talking with the waitress, she could feel Roger’s eyes on her. When she looked back at him, she found him with his elbows on the table and the chin rested on his palms.

“Are you admiring me?” Chelsea joked, assuming the same position as him, to look him directly in the eyes.

“Absolutely yes. I missed you” Roger replied, resting his back on the chair.

“I missed you too, Meddows” she smirked, knowing that he didn’t like to be called like that. He rolled his eyes.

“You know what? Your voice makes this name sound good, so it doesn’t bother me” he scrolled his shoulders and smirked back. Chelsea smiled and, once again, her eyes met the ground.

The breakfast was served quickly and they kept chatting, both with a huge smile on their faces. Roger reached for Chelsea’s hand on the table and he started to caress it.

“I have to tell you something” he almost whispered and Chelsea became serious for a moment, as she started to wonder what he was about to say. He then continued, with a calm voice “I’ve spent my entire week thinking about you. And for me, it’s something new because I’ve never felt like this before. And … I was wondering if you … I mean, if you’d like to be called my girlfriend” Chelsea smiled wider and bit her lips, trying to contain her happiness.

“Rog, I obviously want to be your girlfriend!” she finally said and Roger let out a sigh and smiled.

“But – she added and a shadow of preoccupation travelled down Roger’s spine – I would like to keep our relationship secret for the moment. At least, until I don’t say the truth to John, you know” Chelsea had told Roger about John and their friendship and she had also told him about Tom.

“Baby, don’t worry. No problem on that” he reassured her and Chelsea smiled again “and I absolutely love forbidden things, so it’ll be fun to keep it a secret” he bit his bottom lip and Chelsea felt a heat expanding through her body. They started to flirt and tease each other and they didn’t stop even when they were walking down the streets, hand in hand.

They stopped right in front of Biba.

“I have to go” she said, turning around to face him. Roger smirked and pulled her closer, placing his hands on her lower back. He leaned down to kiss her and Chelsea immediately hugged him, putting her arms behind his neck. It was a passionate kiss and they knew that everyone was looking at them in that moment, but they didn’t care. She caressed his hair, while his fingers were softly rubbing her face. They pulled away and fondly smiled at each other.

“I really have to go” she chuckled when he didn’t want to leave her hand, as she was walking inside the shop.

“I’ll call you later” Roger said. She nodded and she saw him wink at her, before lighting up a cigarette and walking away.

When she entered the shop, Chelsea found Mary looking at her with her arms crossed on the chest.

“So, I see things are going great with Mr. Handsome” Mary teased her and Chelsea felt her cheeks flushing.

“He asked me to be his girlfriend” her voice sounded so childish, that Mary let out a laugh, before hugging her tight.

“I’m so happy for you, doll!” when she pulled away, she saw Chelsea’s preoccupied gaze and, following it, she understood she was looking at Mel, who was helping a client on the other side of the shop.

“Oh c’mon! You two are impossible! You need to talk with each other, it’s not a big deal!”

“Well Mary, it is! She’s his sister!” Chelsea said, between her teeth. Mary rolled her eyes and without adding anything, she took her by the hand and dragged her towards Mel.

“Hi Mel! Listen to me” Mary said, taking her by the arm to pull her closer “you two need to talk. You know about what. So, you both are officially invited to have lunch with me and I’m not taking a no as an answer, because I also have big news to tell you” her tone was so resolute that all the three girls giggled. Chelsea looked up to Mel and arranged a smile. Mel smiled back and she agreed with Mary’s offer.

They soon came back to work, but both, Chelsea and Mel, couldn’t focus on it; they were too busy thinking on what to say and how to behave and, even if they didn’t know, in their minds there were the same twisted thoughts.

The pressure reached its peak when the three girls found themselves sat on the little rounded table at the pub across the street. An awkward silence was filling the air and, when Mary noticed the shy gazes Mel and Chelsea were sharing, she puffed and abandoned herself on the chair.

“Okay, since you two are behaving like two children, I’ll lean with my news,” she said a minute after. A wide smile appeared on her face and Chelsea, who knew her very well, was already imagining what she was about to say.

“I went out with Freddie this week” Mary finally said, covering her mouth the second after the words rolled out form her lips.

“What?” Chelsea slammed her hands on the table and remained with her mouth open for the surprise.

“Oh my God, I’m so happy for you Mary! I knew you were a match when I saw the sparkle in Freddie’s eyes” said Melissa, laying her hand on Mary’s and smiling at her.

“Thanks, girls! And, not to sound cheesy or anything, but I find it quite great that we’re all hanging out with three guys that are in the same band! It’ll be so much fun!” Mary sounded so enthusiastic, that when Chelsea met Mel’s sight, they both smiled at each other. Deep down they knew she was absolutely right.

They were only halfway into their lunch when both Chelsea and Melissa confessed to each other what was going on with, respectively, Roger and John; all of this under Mary’s proud eyes, while she was sipping her cola in amusement.

“I can’t believe Roger asked you to be his girlfriend! And I can’t believe he called you!” admitted Mel, before eating a little bit of her salad.

“And to be honest I can’t believe John was so … you know, bold with you. He had never been lucky with girls and those stuff in general” Chelsea giggled after finishing her meal.

“So? Was it so difficult to talk about it? I told you it wasn’t a big deal if you’re shagging those two handsome boys!” let out Mary, making the other two girls laugh and blush.

“I just think it would be better to keep it a secret. At least until I find the right moment to tell John about all Tom’s situation. And I think he’ll need time also to digest my new relationship with Rog” Chelsea said, almost whispering, afraid of Mel’s reaction. But she just nodded along.

“I strongly agree. I mean, I know Roger too well and I’m one hundred percent sure that he would just freak out if he finds out that I’m hanging out with his new bandmate”

Chelsea felt so relieved. She smiled and they both made a deal: they would have done anything possible to hide their relationships from the boys.

Mary looked at them grinning, as they were shaking hands because she was sure that a big storm of feelings was coming for them. And because, deep down, she couldn’t help herself, but be impatient to tell everything to Freddie.

Chapters: ⤎ previous | next ⤏

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queen-of-the-avengers · 6 years

Text

Terrible Secret Keeper

Characters: Peter Parker x Reader, Ned, MJ, minor characters

Word Count: 1,758

Warnings: drunk!reader, fluff peter

Summary: You and Peter are a part of the Avengers and you are terrible when it comes to keeping secrets. Peter must watch out for you especially when you get drunk.

Author’s Note: I was scrolling through Instagram and found this post with their permission, I am turning it into a oneshot! I hope you all like it! If you have any requests, please send them in! I would love to hear what you have! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

“Come on, this is the party of the year. So, who cares if Flash is throwing it? It’ll be fun,” You tried to convince your boyfriend, Peter, to just have fun.

“You know I don’t really like parties. I’d rather hang out with you at my place where we can watch movies all night long.” Peter sighed, stopping at your locker first. You faced him and put your hands on his shoulders, staring deep into his eyes.

“Peter, I love you but I think this could be good. What’s the worst that could happen? Huh?”

“You remember the last party you went to? The one where you almost got caught coming home drunk?”

“That was one time. It’ll be different this time. We’re going. I already asked MJ to drive us since she’s the only one with a license. Ned is going too.” You opened your locker and got out the books that you needed for your next class.

“Aren’t Flash’s parents going to be there? He was bragging at lunch about the alcohol he was going to get.”

“I don’t know. An older sibling maybe? It doesn’t matter. As long as the cops aren’t called on us.” You joked.

“That’s not funny. It’s underage drinking.” Peter said in a deadpan voice.

“Then it's a good thing we’re specially enhanced humans. You heal pretty quickly which can prevent you from getting alcohol poisoning and I’m the youngest person to get injected with a super serum. That means I won’t be able to get poisoning. Being a superhero has its perks.” You chuckled as you closed your locker and walked with Peter to his.

The whole reason you two met in the first place was because Tony wanted to see what you could do while Peter was there with Happy, checking out his new suit. You liked what you saw and decided to go for it. Peter liked how confident you were and decided to roll with it. Best decision you ever made.

The whole reason you were at Tony’s place was because you were injected with a chemically imbalanced serum which made you able to do a lot of things. One of those is self-healing. It’s pretty amazing. You can get a cut and almost instantly it’s gone. You’re also stronger than Steve which amazed you at first since he’s Captain freaking America.

The place that gave you the serum brought you to the Red Room where you met Natasha. You trained there to be a killing machine. With the serum, it made you better than everyone there. You didn’t want to fight or to even carry this serum but your parents forced you.

Your parents were the head of this secret organization that specializes in creating superhumans. Each year, they had someone younger to test out their failed serum. You say failed because they could never get the perfect balance of their ingredients. All the subjects died within 24 hours.

Then they saw you playing in your room with your barbies and action figures. They wanted to test the serum on you to see if someone your age would be able to take it. Your parents never really cared about you so you weren’t surprised when they stuck needles in you and injected the bright blue serum.

Low and behold it worked but before they could make an entire army, their facilities were raided by S.H.I.E.L.D and in the process, your parents died. It’s how you met Nick Fury. You were just a child and he wanted to make sure you were in good hands. You owed everything to Nick Fury because without him, you probably would have been found by someone worse who wanted to use you for evil. Nick taught you how to use your powers safely and for good.

Your life has always been a roller coaster that seemed to only go down until you met Peter. He made you feel good about yourself and the things you did. He made you feel special without the serum.

“Fine, we’ll go but we won’t stay for long.” Peter sighed.

“That’s fine with me. I just want to have a fun time on Friday.” You smiled, already picturing yourself dancing the night away.

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” Peter said sarcastically.

“We’ll stay for a few hours and then we’ll go home, okay?” You said to Peter as you walked up the steps to Flash’s house. The party was already booming since MJ picked you up later than discussed. You were a little late but you didn’t care. You were here.

“Wait, you’re going to leave early?” Ned asked, not wanting to stay here without Peter.

“Peter wants to be a buzz kill and leave early.” You teased him.

“Hey, don’t make me the bad guy here. This is all illegal just so you know.”

“So, when the police show up, I’ll know who to turn to.” You smirked and walked inside the house.

“Come on, I want to see what kind of drinks they have,” MJ said, taking your hand and leading you to wherever Flash was. Peter sighed as he watched you leave with MJ.

“Dude, what’s going on? You’re usually not like this.” Ned asked.

“I know what Y/N is like when she drinks. I shouldn’t since she’s 16 but she likes to ramble a lot. And I’m just scared she’ll tell people I’m Spiderman and she’s Scarlett Swan.”

“How did she get a name like that?” Ned asked with a chuckle.

“Have you seen her fight?”

“No.”

“You’ll know too if you see it. Come on, let’s go find her.” Peter said, walking through the crowd of people until he found you. “Great.” You were playing beer pong with Flash and you were winning.

“Come on Flash, you can throw better than that.” You chuckled, watching as Flash bounces his ball into one of your cups. This game was a lot more fun since the cups weren’t filled with beer, it was filled with vodka. You grinned and removed the ball from the cup before downing the contents.

“This could be fun to watch,” Ned commented and Peter chuckled, watching you have fun. As long as he kept an eye on you, everyone should be fine.

About halfway through the party, Peter lost sight of you. He didn’t know where you were or how much you had to drink. He and Ned split up and Peter went to go check outside for you. He hated that he had to treat you this way but it was hard enough for you to keep a secret while sober. He just didn’t want to anger Mr. Stark or ruin yours and his life.

Dude, come back inside. You have to see this.

After seeing the text from Ned, he walked inside. He hoped you weren’t embarrassing yourself. He didn’t even have to ask where it was because everyone was crowding around the living room table. The speakers were booming with sound and it was hard to hear your own thoughts, let alone another person. But there you were, on top of the table, dancing your ass off with a drink in your hand.

Because of your serum, it was hard for you to get drunk which is why you didn’t pay attention to the number of drinks you had. They kept piling up and before you knew it, you were getting on the table and dancing in front of everyone. At least you were dressed this time. Everyone else was dancing around the table but you didn’t have a care in the world.

“I love this party!!” You yelled, spilling your drink a bit. You giggled at the round of cheers before tossing back whatever was left in your cup.

“Peter! Hi!!” You waved once you saw your boyfriend. Peter stared at you, not believing why he saw.

“Let’s hope she hasn’t told anyone yet,” Ned said in Peter’s ear.

“Ooo you guys keeping secrets from me?” You yelled with a grin, seeing the two boys close to one another. “I got some secrets. Hey everyone! You know that amazing Spiderman? And that badass Scarlett Swan??”

“Shit, come on, Y/N, it’s time to go.” Peter immediately spring into action. You giggled and was about to say the biggest thing you were hiding but you lost your footing and fell off the table. You expected to bust your ass on the floor but a pair of strong arms caught you.

“Hey, Peter! Tell them about Spiderman!” You laughed, clearly too drunk to do anything.

“We need to go. This is what I was trying to prevent.” Peter sighed. You giggled as he set you on your feet and helped you walk to the front door.

“I’ll get MJ,” Ned yelled and was about to go find her but Peter stopped him.

“Don’t worry. You two stay. I’ll get her home.” Ned nodded and Peter walked with you out of the house.

“I’m Scarlett Swan.” You blurted and Peter quickly looked around him to see if there was anyone there but no one was there to hear.

“We seriously need to work on your secret keeping skills. Come on.” Peter held most of your weight and walked down the street with you. The whole time, you were rambling but that didn’t faze Peter. He loved you anyways.

“Okay, let’s get in the bed,” Peter grunted, trying to get you under the covers. He got you changed into one of his shirts and now he just needed you to stay still.

“This isn’t my room. Where’s my room?” You asked a little too loudly.

“Not that loud! Aunt May is sleeping! I’m not taking you home, your grandma will kill me if I showed up with you drunk like this. I texted her saying you’ll be spending the night here.”

“You’re too good for me. I love you so much, Peter.” You pouted, lying on the bed.

“I love you too. This is why I didn’t want to go to the party. You almost told the entire school our secret.”

“I think everyone should know. We’re fucking badass.” You giggled and laid your head on his pillow.

“Well, Mr. Stark doesn’t see it that way. Come on, sleep time. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I’m glad I don’t get hangovers.” You giggled yawned. Before you knew it, you were passed out on the bed. Peter chuckled and sighed, wondering what he was going to do with you. He loved you but you definitely gave him a challenge.

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bevioletskies · 7 years

Text

sweet child o’ mine

characters: peter/gamora, peter & meredith

summary: peter has a bit of an out-of-the-box idea for his one-month anniversary with gamora - visiting his mother for the first time since returning to earth.

word count: 11.7k

a/n: if you haven’t read the main fic, all you need to know is: a) the guardians attend a superhero school on earth, b) therefore they are in their early-to-mid 20s (except for rocket and groot), c) peter and gamora were fake-dating but are now dating for real, and d) they’ve been playing an “endless” game of twenty questions since they started fake-dating as a way of getting to know each other. however, very little of those plot points are brought up in this particular fic.

all i know about peter's hometown is what i got from google, so apologies for any inaccuracies. there are also lots of headcanons about meredith mentioned here, including her middle name and birth year, which I don't believe are given in the mcu or the comics.

fic title is from the song sweet child o’ mine by guns n’ roses.

ao3 | tag | masterpost

“Peter, for the love of everything, will you please stop pacing outside my door and just come in already?”

Sheepish, Peter slowly opened Gamora’s bedroom door, gingerly peering around it like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Only, she couldn’t see his hands, because for some reason, he was holding them behind his back. She vaguely wondered if he had been playing around with Rocket’s odd arsenal of knick-knacks and accidentally handcuffed himself (again). “He-e-ey, Gamora,” he drawled. Clearly, he was aiming for nonchalance. Personally, Gamora thought he looked a bit constipated. “What’re you up to?”

“Wondering what’s wrong with you this time,” she teased. She set her book aside and sat up in bed, folding her arms across her chest. This ought to be good, she thought.

“Well - uh, it’s our one-month anniversary. And before you freak out on me, I wasn’t expecting anything from you. Or that we have to do anything. We don’t even have to talk about if you don’t want, like, what anniversary, am I right? Why would we talk about it, it’s not that big of a deal, and - ”

“Peter. Sometime today, please.”

“I was thinkin’ over the weekend about doing something nice for you, y’know, just ‘cause, and remember the bake sale during homecoming week? Anyways, I got other Peter to get his Aunt May to make you more of those chocolate muffins you liked.” With a flourish, Peter presented what he’d been hiding behind his back - a tupperware container, holding a dozen of the aforementioned muffins. “I swear, I just wanted to preface this with our anniversary so you know I wasn’t trying to make these a part of it. I just wanted to get you chocolate. Because I know you ran out of the Hershey’s bars you keep stored in that box under your bed.”

Gamora blinked, stunned. “You knew about that?”

“Groot and I were playing hide and seek,” he shrugged. “Anyways, um, you want these, right?”

Laughing softly, she finally moved aside, ushering for him to join her on the bed. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Peter, that was sweet of you.” She accepted the container, setting it down on her nightstand so she could move closer to kiss him. “Has it really been a month?”

“One month, yeah. Or according to everyone else, seven months,” he chuckled. “Think we’re good to go for another?”

“I think so,” she hummed, giving him a sly smile. “Although our last outing made me question things a little.”

“In my defense, that karaoke bar was total false advertising - when they said oldies, I thought they meant Earth, Wind & Fire, not the freaking Backstreet Boys - ”

“I meant your awful choice in ‘greasy food’,” she interrupted, though she was grinning as she said it. Peter was pleased to see her using air quotes, something she had never understood prior to arriving on Earth. It was rather sweet, seeing her pick up Terran mannerisms, especially ones that Peter was fond of using himself. “What did we learn about suspicious-looking food trucks?”

“To take Yelp reviews more seriously,” Peter nodded. She fixed him with another stern look. “To actually check Yelp first.” Gamora rewarded him with another kiss, allowing Peter to wrap his arms around her middle and pull them down onto the bed, their heads landing softly onto the pillow. She deepened the kiss, glad to finally have some alone time with Peter for the first time all day. Reluctantly, however, Peter moved away first, his hands sliding upwards to gently cup her jaw. “Hey,” he said quietly. “I also had a favor to ask.”

“You’re not going to surprise me with an anniversary date, are you? Because I have a midterm tomorrow,” she said, frowning.

“No, not that,” he promised. “I, uh...we’ve got a long weekend coming up, and I was thinkin’ about…” Peter let out a slow exhale, his breath trembling slightly as he did so. Concerned, Gamora brought her hands up to rest over his, rubbing soothing circles with her thumbs. It was rare to see him so unnerved. “...I was thinkin’ about...going home.”

“Home? As in your hometown?”

“I feel like it’s the right time. I’ve really settled into who I am and who I wanna be, you know? And I think now’s the time to go back and see who I was,” he said, giving her a rueful smile. “But I don’t...I don’t wanna be alone. I was thinking about asking Mantis, since she could keep me from getting over-emotional, but then I realized it would be missing the whole point. I mean, I’ll take her eventually, but I think the kind of emotional support I really need is from you. If you can. And only if you want to, of course.”

“Of course I do,” she murmured, her eyes warm. “I’m here for you, Peter. Or at least, I’d like to try my best to be. My only condition is that I pick where we stay. I don’t trust you to check reviews anymore.”

“Deal.” Peter buried his face in her neck, enjoying the comforts of her touch, her presence, her affections. “Thank you.” ______

The rest of the school week was spent rather anxiously - it was, indeed, midterm season, and the Guardians didn’t see much of each other outside of hellos and goodbyes if they happened to be on the ship at the same time. Peter and Gamora were sleeping separately as well, since they had very different study schedules and didn’t want to disturb the other. They were pleased to find their worries of recurring nightmares had come away unfounded - aside from one nightmare in which Peter had been eaten by a UFO shaped like a pepperoni pizza (the sketchy food truck experience had really stuck with him), they slept as peacefully as they always did, though admittedly a little better when they were together.

Peter also spent the week nervously anticipating what it would be like to return home. For lack of a better word, it would be weird to walk the streets of St. Charles, take in the sights and smells of a place that he’d known when he was a different person altogether. He was also a little worried about how Gamora would react, or how people would react to her. He had cautioned her about it beforehand - after all, there were people who didn’t take kindly to the word ‘alien’, let alone actually seeing one in person. But Gamora had insisted on not concealing her appearance - she would be wearing a hat and gloves, of course, given the crisp bite of October weather starting to settle in, but she wasn’t about to wear oversized sunglasses or a balaclava anytime soon.

On Thursday afternoon, the Guardians said their goodbyes to their leaders as they got ready to leave on their private plane (on loan from Stark, as always). Mantis was shocked to find that Peter was putting her in charge while they were gone, though he and Gamora had previously reasoned she would be the only one who could literally keep everyone’s emotions in check, and prevent them from killing each other in their absence. “Just don’t forget to make sure all the appliances are off and the windows are locked every night - and remember that Groot’s got that special soap since the other stuff makes his bark itchy - oh, and I’ve left a mixtape for him, it’s all the songs that he can fall asleep to - ”

“Peter, they’re our teammates, not house sitters,” Gamora sighed, tugging on his arm. “Come on, the pilot’s getting impatient.”

“Or maybe it’s just you,” Rocket snickered.

After several rounds of hugs (even Nebula accepted one from Gamora, awkwardly patting her on the back as she did so), the two of them boarded the plane, waving goodbye out the small windows as they took off. “This’ll be like the New York trip all over again,” Peter grinned, leaning forward as the seatbelt light switched off. “Except we weren’t dating at the time.”

Gamora shrugged as she knelt on the floor and began rummaging through her backpack for something. “We were fake-dating, so that counts for something. We also spent a lot of that trip sightseeing, so I suppose there will be some similarities.”

He watched her, curious as to what she was looking for. “Do you remember the last night of trip? When we danced in the hotel room?”

“Yes. Why?”

“We almost kissed that night.” Peter leaned back, reminiscing. It felt like years had passed since that moment, but it had been less than four months ago. “What do you think would’ve happened if we did?”

“I know what I would have done,” she said quietly, pulling out the item she’d been looking for - the tupperware container. “I would have thought it to be a mistake, because I didn’t really have romantic feelings for you then. Romantic curiosity, maybe. And then we would distance ourselves from each other out of self-doubt, and never realize our potential as a couple.”

“You think so?” She nodded, a bittersweet melancholy in her eyes as she sat back in her seat, holding the container almost protectively in her lap. “Well then, I’m glad it didn’t turn out that way after all. I like this outcome a lot better. We spent way too long being stupid about our feelings, but we got there in the end, hey?” He paused. “Gamora, did you eat eight muffins already? It’s been four days!”

“Midterms were stressful and combat practice wasn’t enough to blow off steam. I can hear the judgment in your voice,” she retorted, the evasiveness in her expression fading away in favor of playful mirth.

“That’s because I am judging you - can you get pimples? Or nosebleeds? Wait, no, you have a super good healing factor. Never mind, that was a dumb question. But geez, Gamora.” Giggling softly, she picked up one of the remaining four, broke it in half, and held it out for him. “You’re offering me half of one?”

“You did get them for me,” she teased, though she did hand him the other half. “Only because you asked so rudely.”

He shot her a mock expression of hurt, holding it for all of ten seconds before he began laughing with her. Peter could feel the somewhat dreaded anticipation of the trip and the tension in his shoulders melt away as he took his first bite, watching Gamora as she did the same in near-perfect synchronicity, her eyes twinkling. His heart beat a little faster at the sight - he would never quite get used to how natural it felt to be with her. It might’ve only been one month, but there was something about her that made him feel like they had been together forever - like he wanted to be with her forever. ______

They landed at the St. Charles County Airport about three hours later, just in time to pick up a quick dinner before heading to their hotel (“Are you gonna make me check Yelp for McDonald’s?” “Don’t sass me, Peter.”). They sat on the floor of the living room instead of at the table, eating and chatting about how chaotic their respective weeks had been. When they finished, Gamora moved closer to curl up against Peter’s chest as they watched reruns of a sitcom that they had never seen before, nor could they name.

“Your heart’s beating really fast,” she commented a few episodes later, lifting herself up so she could properly examine his face. “Is something wrong?”

“If you can believe it, I think I’m overthinking things,” he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Just getting kinda worked up about going around the old haunts again. Even going to that McDonald’s was kinda weird, since I went to that one a lot as a kid. I mean, what’s it gonna be like when I visit my school? Or the park?”

“You also put the hospital down on the itinerary. I found that rather morbid of you,” she said, biting her lip. “I wasn’t going to ask, but...you aren’t going to go...inside the hospital, are you?”

“No, definitely not.” He began raking his fingers through his hair vigorously, as if he’d found an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. Before he could agitate himself any further, Gamora grabbed his hands, pulling them away from his scalp, pressing her thumbs against his fingers so she could force them to relax. She then brought his open palms against her own temples instead, staring up at him inquisitively. Smiling softly at her, he began running his fingers through her hair instead, and as she’d hoped, in a much gentler manner than he had been with himself. “I owe you one. For being here with me.”

“I’m still not very well-versed in dating protocol, but I’m pretty sure it’s not based on an exchange of favors,” she said, winding her arms around the back of his neck. “Although...since I got my fight clinic finally approved by the Director, I’ve been seeking a male demonstration partner.”

He furrowed his brow. “Me? I’m not a bad fighter or anything, but I’m definitely not the best. You could probably find someone more experienced.”

“But we already know each other’s fighting styles and instincts. You also tend to be my opposite, which would help greatly in showcasing different techniques,” she explained. Leaning in closer, brushing their noses together, she whispered, “I also happen to know your body quite extensively. That’s useful, don’t you think?”

“And you accuse me of sexual innuendos,” Peter muttered, though secretly he was proud. Also, if he was a little more turned on than he had been fifteen seconds ago, Gamora didn’t need to - no, actually, she would definitely know, considering she was sitting on his lap at this point. “Bed?” he said hopefully.

“Mm,” Gamora hummed, deliberating a little longer than he’d like, a mockingly thoughtful expression on her face. “We’re brushing our teeth first. Then yes, bed.” ______

Gamora woke up earlier than Peter, as she often did, scrolling through the plan Peter had cobbled together on his holo-tab. It wasn’t as detailed as she might have liked, but she supposed a trip like this didn’t necessarily call for structure. They weren’t making appointments or meeting with other people, the way they did when making supply runs. From what she could tell, they would be spending most of their time simply walking around, taking in their surroundings. Peter was probably going to tell her extensive details about everything in town, stories about what he’d seen or done here as a child, memories he’d shared with his mother.

She suspected if it wasn’t for Peter’s mother, he probably would have no desire to come back at all. It had barely registered to him when she had inquired about the rest of his family. “You don’t want to see the others? Surely, they must have seen or heard about you on the news,” Gamora had reasoned.

“If they were still around, they either don’t care about me or didn’t try to contact me. Or both,” he had shrugged. “Grandpa, he’s...he’s probably dead.” His voice had gone a little off on the last word, cracking with emotion, and she decided to drop it from there.

The morning was spent half-awake, a little restless from adjusting to a new bed and a new environment. Gamora had adapted quickly as always, but Peter grumbled about the mattress being too soft as he brushed his teeth, before they went out to get some groceries. His mood brightened a little upon seeing Gamora’s new ensemble - along with her typical leather pants and boots, she was also wearing a cable-knit sweater she had stolen from him that practically swamped her in fabric, a leather cape jacket that made her look every inch the badass that she was, and a thick wool hat, complete with fluffy pom-pom.

“You’re staring,” Gamora said without looking up as she pulled on her gloves.

“I’m wondering where you’re hiding your sword?” Peter tried. Gamora reached down to reveal that her smallest blade was tucked inside her boot. “Right. Also, you just look really gorgeous right now. That’s not to say you aren’t usually beautiful, I mean, you’re always beautiful, not that that’s the only thing about you that matters, because you’re just awesome all around, but like - ”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, except to the grocery store on schedule,” she snarked, grinning. “Come on, let’s go.”

While the hotel had been informed ahead of time who Peter and Gamora were (the owner had very generously offered a discount for their “hometown hero”, but Peter had declined, feeling oddly weird about the title and its implications), every other person and place remained oblivious, and therefore, surprised upon seeing them in the grocery store. A couple families in particular pulled their children a little closer when they saw Gamora, and if Gamora’s grip on both the shopping basket and Peter’s hand was a little tighter than normal (which admittedly wasn’t great for Peter’s blood circulation), he didn’t comment on it.

She relaxed once again when they arrived at Blanchette Park, armed with deli sandwiches and juice boxes on Peter’s suggestion. “I spent a lot of my childhood here,” he told her as they settled down at one of the picnic benches. “There’s a waterpark, and baseball fields, tons of open space for kids. My mom also enrolled me in daycamp here, too.”

“What’s that?” Gamora asked. She kept a wary eye on a group of children sprinting by, shrieking happily as they chased each other around the field. Some of them glanced over at her and Peter briefly - one even waved “hello” - before resuming their play.

“Daycamp? It’s a program that’s kinda like school, except there’s way less learning involved,” Peter chuckled. “We played sports, made art, did games and team-building exercises, storytime. That kinda thing.”

She nodded, lost in thought as she began eating, her eyes still roaming across the large open areas of the park. Peter had shown her the few old photos he had in his possession of him as a young boy, and she remembered wondering what he had been like. She could picture him, boisterous and buoyant, running across the park with the others, his long shaggy hair whipping about in the wind. She could also imagine him sitting quietly with his Walkman, watching the other children go by as he hummed along to his favorite song. “Question,” she said after they’d been eating in silence for ten minutes. “What’s your favorite memory here?”

“I dunno if I have one favorite memory,” he mused, taking another bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. “It’s just a lot of good memories, you know? Runnin’ through the sprinklers, sittin’ under the tree and listening to music, people-watching. That kinda stuff.” He paused. “You’re smiling weirdly. What’s going on?”

“I was learning about accents in my espionage class the other day, and I was admittedly quite curious about yours,” she said, smiling a little shyly. “You sound almost like the others we’ve encountered - the hotel desk manager, the grocery store clerk - but you’ve picked up a little bit of dialect from being with the Ravagers, yes?” He nodded, wondering where she was going with this. “Since arriving here, it seems that your original accent is getting stronger. It’s kind of...cute.”

“You like the accent, huh?” Peter grinned, leaning across the table.

“Don’t exaggerate,” Gamora smirked in return, popping the last bit of her food in her mouth. “I only said ‘kind of’.”

After they finished lunch, they walked through the park at a leisurely pace - they were in no rush, this being their only stop of the day - hand-in-hand, enjoying the gentle breeze of the mid-October air. Peter began pointing out different spots he frequented, certain park benches he’d preferred or trees that he had tried to climb (the operative word being ‘tried’). “Broke my arm fallin’ outta that one,” he said cheerfully, when addressing what looked to be the largest tree in the entire park. “Tried again the next week after I got my cast off, on my seventh birthday. Only sprained my shoulder that time!”

“I worry about you sometimes,” Gamora sighed. “And by sometimes, I mean frequently.”

“Oh, and I kissed Kimberly W. under that tree. Or maybe it was Kimberly F.,” he wondered, eyeing an oak tree with a particularly low overhang.

“You’ve kissed many Kimberlys in your lifetime, it seems.” Gamora reached around to grab Peter’s other hand in hers and began walking backward, guiding him towards the aforementioned tree. “How old were you?”

“Does it matter?” Peter murmured. He swung their joined hands around to tuck them behind her back, slowly pressing her against the tree trunk, tipping his head in consideration. “I just wanna kiss you right now.” He bent down to meet her halfway as Gamora tilted her chin upwards. Just as their noses began to brush, eyelashes fluttering closed in anticipation, Peter suddenly found himself embracing empty air, as she’d slipped out from under him and was now jogging away, glancing over her shoulder at him with a wickedly devious smirk. “You’re the worst,” he called after her, though he sounded just about as fond as he felt.

“Lies and slander, you speak too frequently about how I’m your favorite person in the universe for that to be true,” she shouted back, beaming giddily. “Keep up, Peter, I’d like to see this ‘waterpark’ you speak of!”

They didn’t return to their hotel room until dark, having spent the entire day wandering the park and its adjacent areas. Peter offered to cook dinner, with Gamora supervising while she did some homework. She dragged one of the dining chairs over to the kitchen counter and sat down, bringing her knees up against her chest, her hair still damp from her shower. She was wearing another one of Peter’s shirts, her nose still flush from the heat of the hot water.

“I’m getting better at this, okay?” he protested, brandishing a wooden spoon at her when she chastised him for not paying attention to the stove, and nearly flicked her in the face with boiling hot chicken broth in the process. “Shit - sorry, babe.”

“Drax has been teaching you how to cook quite adequately, but I think it’s the kitchen safety you’re lacking,” she teased. “I’d like to take a look at the mission roster we have lined up for November, but your short attention span is making me nervous. If I go into the bedroom to get my tablet, do you promise not to set the kitchen on fire while I’m gone?”

He made a face. “Here.” He passed her his own holo-tab, already open to their mission docket, and returned to the stove, stirring vigorously. “What’d you have in mind for us?”

“I think we should discuss the potential dangers of the embassy job, but it would be the most lucrative in more than just units. Our reputation would benefit greatly as well,” Gamora said thoughtfully, beginning to scroll. “And speaking of units, I have a list of recommendations from Pepper regarding mattresses, so we should finally place an order next weekend, and then the others will stop bothering us. Oh, this is unrelated, but Janet’s requested we do dinner with her and Stark on Friday to go over the details of that Avenger-Guardian coalition. Are you available?”

“Should be, my only plans for Friday were to watch Back to the Future with you. Again.” Peter turned and carefully poured out two even portions of chicken noodle soup into bowls. “Hey, I did it!”

“It was from a can, Peter,” she chuckled. “But I’m very proud of you. So proud of you. So incredibly - ”

“Sarcasm’s a weird look on you,” he commented, handing her a bowl and spoon as they both walked over to the dining table. “But I can’t say I hate it.”

They were about two minutes into the meal when Peter paused to watch Gamora, a smile beginning to grow on his face. She wasn’t doing anything particularly interesting - eating absent-mindedly, her phone in her other hand as she checked her emails - but he couldn’t help but be enamored with every little thing about her, as mundane as it was. It was nice to just be around her, to not have to squeeze in a quick make-out session between training and dinner, to talk about everything and nothing at all without getting interrupted by their nosy friends. Getting to be completely alone for four whole days seemed more than ideal to Peter, even if it wasn’t under the best of circumstances. He was quite certain now that his decision to bring her instead of Mantis was the correct one - he loved his sister beyond compare, but her overly frenetic energy would likely stress him out even more. “I like this…this, domestic thing we’re doing.”

“Domestic?” She set her spoon down in her bowl, folding her arms neatly on the table.

“Me cooking while you’re looking over our plans, talking about how we’re gonna spend our money this month and the dinner dates we’ve got lined up...seems pretty domestic to me.”

“I suppose,” Gamora said, chewing her lip thoughtfully. “As I’ve said before, I have no basis for romantic relationships aside from pop culture and our classmates. But I’m very much enjoying this...us.”

“As am I.” Peter grinned, reaching across the table to briefly squeeze her hand. “Though that thing you did in the park? Not cool. I was really liking the idea of kissing you where I’ve kissed someone else before, replace it with a better memory.”

“Nice save,” she said dryly. “And were you not kidnapped when you were eight? How have you kissed so many people before then?”

“I knew that was bothering you,” he exclaimed, triumphant. “What can I say, I’m just that good. Ow.” Gamora had pelted him with a balled-up napkin and hit him square in the forehead. “Right. I’m just gonna shut up while I’m ahead.” ______

Peter woke up the next morning later than usual, feeling pleasantly warm and pliant. He rolled over to snuggle up against Gamora, only to find that the bed was empty. “Gamora?” he called, wondering if she was in the bathroom. When he didn’t get a response, he slowly walked out into the main living space to find her curled up on the couch, her back to him, on the phone.

“We aren’t coming back early unless it’s a real emergency, Nebula,” she was whispering, exasperated. “I couldn’t do that to Peter. This means a lot to him, okay?”

“What’s going on?” Peter asked, sitting down next to her. She only held up a finger to hush him, though she reached over to pat his arm reassuringly to satiate him for the time being.

“Just get Mantis to keep it safe for now,” she continued, a little louder now that she knew he was awake. “Check in with me tomorrow and don’t let him get his hands on any of it. Yes. Yes. No, shut up.” Peter’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Okay. Bye.” Groaning, Gamora hit the end button and promptly slumped over face-first onto Peter’s lap, an unusually child-like reaction on her part.

He automatically moved to push her hair out of her face, his fingers tracing her jawline. “What was that all about?”

“Yondu somehow found the money and went on a rant about how it’s way more than we said it was, but I don’t recall ever disclosing the full amount,” she mumbled. “Nebula was actually quite mature about it, in her own way. She told Yondu I would kill him if he spent a single unit, provided she didn’t slit his throat for betraying me first.”

“I...guess that’s Nebula’s way of proving she loves you?” Peter wrinkled his nose. “We really are the mom and dad of this team, aren’t we? When the parents are away, the kids will play. Except in this case, the kids are stealing mom and dad’s money and threatening to murder each other.”

“Sounds about right,” she snorted. “We should have left the money with Mantis in the first place and gotten her to hide it, but I suppose it’s too late now.”

He bent to kiss her briefly. “Nothing we can do. Breakfast?”

Gamora suddenly got to her feet, half-sprinting towards the kitchen. “I’ve got it!”

“You can trust me to cook, you know,” he called after her.

“Omelettes don’t come in a can, Peter, so you’re out of luck,” she gleefully yelled back.

Once they had eaten and dressed for the day, they headed out for their next stop - Peter’s elementary school. Peter was adamant they would only be able to sit outside for a little while before it looked suspicious, but he did want to spend at least a little time there, maybe take a lap around the field at most. It was quite a clean, attractive building, albeit a little run-of-the-mill, with its mix of traditional brick and large, modern windows. Gamora could practically picture a young Peter running up and down its halls, his face peeking out through the glass, rambunctious and cheerful and innocent as could be.

He told her stories about what school for young children was like, how it compared to their experiences at the academy now. As always, he was a little all-over-the-place in his storytelling, skipping over the pieces that would have put together the puzzle, sometimes forgetting Gamora didn’t understand certain Terran customs she had never encountered before. He spoke of the subpar cafeteria food, saved only by pizza Fridays. He talked about how holidays were celebrated in school - turkey handprints for Thanksgiving, candy hearts for Valentine’s Day, and Secret Santa for Christmas. She could barely keep up with what he was saying, but she didn’t really care - Peter was so enthusiastic in sharing things with her, she didn’t have the heart to interrupt him.

However, her mind did start to wander a little once he began detailing the importance of the buddy system. She couldn’t help but think about why he had put together their little “tour” in the order that he did. The park clearly held nothing but happy (if a little shallow) memories for him. Today, it was Peter’s school and then later, the recreation center, places he had spent much of his formative years in that he had mixed feelings about, due to his unsavory interactions with other children, the bullies he’d encountered. Tomorrow, it was going to be the hospital, where all the kindhearted doctors and good nurses in the world would never fix what had happened the last time he was there.

And Monday? They would be visiting Meredith’s grave.

They sat on the curb of the school’s parking lot, eating granola bars that Peter had specially picked out at the grocery store, claiming they were his favorite lunchbox treat as a child. He sounded cheerful as ever, but Gamora could see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes were becoming more born of worry than of laughter. Why has he insisted on slowly upsetting himself over the course of this trip? Gamora thought, her gaze settling over his face. As far as she knew, Peter took no pleasure in sadness. He avoided showing her sad movies, didn’t like listening to sad songs. He wasn’t numb to the feeling, of course, she had seen him tear up a handful of times, but what could he possibly have to gain out of doing it this way?

“Do I have something on my face? Wait, no, don’t answer. I bet I just look really good from this angle or something,” Peter chuckled, waving a hand in front of her face.

She blinked, slightly confused, before recovering quickly. “It’s better than my angle from yesterday. I don’t like having to look up your nose when I’m kissing you,” she retorted easily. He laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in a bit closer. “Is this making you happy, Peter? Being here?”

“Y’know, it’s weird being here, seeing these places that I haven’t been to in years, but...it’s not really hitting me yet. That this was once home.” He swallowed loudly. She leaned into his touch, though she turned away from him so he wouldn’t be nervous. “Home was a ship for so long, I forgot what it meant to be in one place. To live in one house. Go to one school. Have one favorite restaurant, have a neighbor that I see every morning, pickin’ up the newspaper while I’m runnin’ to catch the bus.” His eyes flickered towards his shoes, fixating on the dirty laces of his boots. “Have...have Saturday dinners with Grandpa. Hear stories about how my mom was just like me when she was a kid.”

“That must have been lovely,” Gamora said quietly.

“It...it was.” His voice broke, and he let out a watery chuckle, head bowed. “Hey, I...I think it just hit me.”

“I’m sorry.” She felt guilty, though she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t anticipated such a response from him. She had always admired Peter for his emotional openness, his willingness to display his feelings to others so easily. She was trying harder each day to be that way as well - she found that it saved her the trouble of trying to verbally communicate the things she internalized at times - but admittedly, she still wasn’t very good at it. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” He brought his other arm up around her, shuffling closer so he could press his face into her neck. “I’m just...I'm always gonna be a mess when it comes to my mom, I think. It’s just who I am.”

“That’s because she was clearly so instrumental in who you are. She was the most important person in your life. She still is.” She could feel him trembling against her, shamefaced, the shoulder of her jacket becoming damp with his half-shed tears. “You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about your love for her. You can be honest with me, Peter, that’s what we’re here for.”

“I know, and I’m not embarrassed, I just feel like...” He sighed, lifting his head slightly so she could see his red-rimmed eyes, the splotches on his nose and cheeks that weren’t a result of the cold. “You know how, that one time, you said you felt like your emotions were in someone else’s hands? That’s how I’m feeling right now. Like being here has opened up my brain to some other dimension or something dumb like that, and now it’s just flicking all the switches on and off in my head at random.”

“You’ve been quite, for lack of a better word, predictable. What makes you think you’re out of control?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Peter said carefully. “It’s like...I’ve been almost...too happy. Like I’m trying to gloss over what happened the last time I left this place - how I left this place - by pretending this was some great utopia. Like, I love this city and what it meant to me as a kid, but it’s like my brain also told me to forget that the first time I ever threw up was at Blanchette Park. Or that I got beat up in this parking lot trying to save a frog from being squished by a bunch of big kids. And I’m worried that the reverse is gonna happen when we go to the bad places, you know? That I’m gonna go to the hospital and only remember that one nurse that always bought me ice cream from the vending machine whenever my mom was doing chemo. Or...the cemetery, and remember when my mom and I walked by it one Halloween while she was telling me her favorite ghost story.”

Gamora was quiet for a moment, contemplative, her palms rubbing soothing circles over the knots in his shoulders, urging him to relax. “It’s not about compromising your memories, I don’t think,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s restorative balance to the universe, or in this case, the city you’ve built up in your mind. You want to remember it the way you remembered your mother. With joy, and with sorrow. Besides, your emotions don’t have to make sense all of the time.”

He sniffled, cracking a weak smile. “And you say you’re not good with words,” he teased, kissing the side of her head. “Hey, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think I wanna go to the rec center anymore. I kinda just...need to recharge. Go back to the hotel, get some work done, maybe. It was never really a necessary stop, more of a checkbox on a list than anything else.”

“Okay,” she replied, getting to her feet. “Then let’s go.”

The rest of their Saturday was spent quietly, with Gamora spending her afternoon in the hotel gym, while Peter worked diligently on his persuasive essay on superpower legislature in their room, typing with vigor on his holo-tab. By the time she returned, he was half-asleep on the couch, his fingers sliding across the keyboard lazily, no longer at work. “Hey,” he mumbled drowsily when she patted him urgently on the knee. “Wha’s going on?”

“Just making sure you’re alright,” she replied, eyeing him suspiciously. “I still feel a little bad about what happened earlier.”

“I promise, it wasn’t your fault.” He held her hand between his, solemn. “C’mon, Gamora, you know me. I cry when my favorite Top Chef contestant loses.”

Smiling beatifically, she sat across from him at the opposite end of the couch, swinging her feet up onto his lap, tangling their legs together. “Question. When was the last time I hurt you?”

“I’m guessing you don’t mean physically.” He scratched a little at his neck - Gamora’s fascination with leaving bites was definitely a turn-on, and he thought that her possessiveness of him was rather hot, but they did kind of sting in the process. “Probably way back to our last major fight, when you asked if the only reason I wanted to be friends was because I wanted to sleep with you. I couldn’t believe you still thought I was that kind of guy.”

“That was almost two months ago,” she exclaimed, astonished. “Have there really been no other occurrences since then?”

“I can’t tell you how much I hate that you still think you’re a ‘bad girlfriend’ just because you’ve never been one,” Peter said fiercely, leaning forward to rest his hands on her legs, rubbing her reassuringly. “Gamora, would a bad girlfriend be here with me? Would she be interested in my life, enjoy spending time with me, help me feel better when I’m down? If so, you’re the worst girlfriend I’ve ever seen.” She giggled softly, shaking her head, allowing him to pull her onto his chest, laying on her front. “Do you think I’m a bad boyfriend? Since I’ve never been one either?”

“Of course not,” she protested almost immediately. “I’m just overthinking it, okay? Let me feel guilty.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her midsection and pulling her in closer. “Fine, but only because we’re both stubborn as hell, and this conversation is gonna go nowhere, fast. But if you’re still thinking about this tomorrow, I’m gonna give you a stern talking-to. Or at least a pep talk. Yeah, that sounds better, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever excuse you need to continue talking,” she teased. ______

The next morning, Gamora woke to find Peter sprawled out on top of her, his hands warm against the bare skin of her belly, having pushed her tank top up to her collarbones to expose her entire upper body, his lips making their way along her jawline and down the column of her throat. “Is this part of the pep talk?”

“No, but it can be.” He smiled into her neck before leaning back so he could look at her. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better. But I should be asking you that.” She wrapped her arms around him, her thumbs kneading gently at the top of his shoulder blades. “We’re going to the hospital today, after all. But we’re not going inside.”

“No, we’re not.” He hesitated. “We’re gonna go out to the field in the back. Sit in the spot where I was taken.”

Her breath hitched. “Peter…”

“I know. I have mixed feelings about the Ravagers, too. But I gotta face it head-on, right? Confront my fears and all that motivational crap?” His eyes flickered away from hers, downcast. “I spent my years with them never wanting to return to Earth, let alone to the place where I watched my mom die. And yet, here we are, livin’ on Earth. So I’m done running and hiding. Like, what kind of leader would I be if I never faced my demons? I could never be an example to you guys if I did that.”

“You’ve taken great leaps in maturity since we’ve met, and we all appreciate that. But wanting to avoid reliving your worst memory is reasonable, Peter,” she said adamantly, sitting up a little, readjusting her top as her back came to rest against the headboard. “We expect you to walk across hot coals, not run into a blazing fire. But if this is something you need to do, then I’ll be by your side.”

He squeezed her hands tight, eyes suspiciously glossy, though wisely, Gamora decided not to push any further this time. “Breakfast, then,” he decided. “You’ve still got some muffins left, right?”

An hour later, the two of them were sitting cross-legged in the open field at the back of the hospital, Peter staring down its doors like he was expecting them to burst open. He was probably visualizing what he must have looked like all those years ago - all of eight years old, a scrappy, skinny little thing, sprinting outside with tears in his eyes, blurring away the image that had already been seared into his brain - his mother’s hand falling lax as he failed to take it one last time.

Gamora knew she had no need to be anxious, despite the waves of nervous energy Peter was emanating himself. Her line of sight was clear, there were civilians (or in her mind, witnesses) everywhere, and the skies showed no signs of impending doom. Still, she couldn’t help but think about what had happened the last time Peter was in this very spot. She was also a little disturbed he remembered it so precisely.

They were silent for several minutes, eating quietly, enjoying the gentle breeze that nipped at their ears and noses. Gamora shuffled a little closer into Peter’s side, as he’d been stubborn about not wearing a scarf and was now pink in the face. He often commented about how her higher body temperature made her feel like a furnace sometimes, how he’d wake up to find himself sweating from her heat. Gamora didn’t find it all that fair - she was the one who had to deal with his literal cold feet in the morning.

“There’s this...memory, that I have, and Yondu doesn’t like to talk about it, but it’s one of my favorites of him.” Peter’s gaze was still firmly fixed on the hospital, squinting occasionally as if he’d seen something despite the building’s frosted glass obscuring his view. He sounded far away, despite his fingers dancing absentmindedly on her arm. “It was my first birthday on the Eclector, my ninth birthday. I got real excited and told Yondu the night before - wanted to celebrate, somehow. He didn’t really get it, though - he never learned when his birthday was.”

“But...we’ve had birthday celebrations for Yondu before.”

“Wait, lemme finish. Yondu got all weird about it, and I kinda regretted telling him. I didn’t know it would make him upset! So I went to tell Kraglin instead, thought maybe I’d do something fun with him instead of rubbing it in Yondu’s face. But then the next day, my birthday, I woke up and found a little glass figurine next to my bed. It’s a dancer, with long spiky hair, thick arms and legs, some sort of alien race I’d never seen before. But what it really reminds me of was the Troll dolls that I carried around with me. And I knew for sure it was from Yondu, because he’s crazy about that kinda stuff. Then, when I went to breakfast, he stuck a lit match into my food because we didn’t have any candles. It was also the first time he sat down with me to listen to my Walkman. He told me that ‘Terran music ain’t that half-bad’.” He chuckled at the memory. “At the end of the day, he told me what I kinda already knew - that he didn’t really have a birthday since he was sold into slavery as a baby, and once Stakar saved him, they never bothered ‘picking’ one for him. I had a couple old newspapers in my backpack, the one I had on when they took me, so we stayed up all night, using those newspapers to look at horoscopes and figure out a birthday for him instead.”

“That’s so sweet,” she murmured, resting her chin on his shoulder. “You should know that...your stories always remind me of why I’m so fond of you. I wasn’t charmed by your confidence or your charisma, though I’ll admit it works on me now. It was your kindness.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, turning slightly to look at his face, smiling at the warmth in his eyes, that twinkle that he always only ever reserved for her. “During your debate a couple weeks ago, though, there was one thing you said that rather bothered me. You said you prioritized being happy, but never thought about the importance of being good. I find that doesn’t really align with your personality at all. Am I wrong?”

“It was hard to think of myself as a moral person in my thievin’ days,” he countered. “What would you call a guy who lies, cheats, and steals for his own gain? Because I wouldn’t call it ‘good’.”

“In the grand scheme of things, I would certainly think of you as the lesser of many evils. No one is ever truly good or truly bad. Except, perhaps, our respective fathers.”

“Our dads are far beyond ‘truly’ bad. If anything, that’s a damn generous description for both of ‘em,” Peter said through clenched teeth. She could feel his shoulder shifting beneath her head, tensing.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this to you, of all people, but you should really stop thinking so much,” she said. “This weekend is in honor of your mother. Don’t tarnish her memory by thinking about your father’s ill will.” When he didn’t respond, she frowned, increasingly worried. Peter really did have a knack for talking himself into emotional despair, didn’t he? “Why don’t you tell me about the things you took with you when you were visiting her in the hospital? The newspapers, for example,” she suggested.

He cleared his throat harshly, causing her to sit up a little straighter. “Yeah, um. Newspapers from the house. The hospital gave her the morning paper every day, but I thought that it would be more personal if it was the subscription we got at home. It’s not like I wanted anything but the comics section, anyways. The picnic blanket we used to watch the stars - the one we used on our ‘six-month’ anniversary date? And uh, books she read to me as a kid, VHS tapes of her favorite movies. I would’ve taken a lot more on the day that she...that I...well. If I’d known.”

“Like what?”

“My mom did ballet when she was a kid, and she kept her first pair of shoes in this little box in her closet,” Peter nodded. His voice was slowly getting stronger now. “She had a lot of recipe books, but she liked to experiment with ‘em, so she handwrote her changes on index cards, those were in that box, too. She also...she also liked fixing her own car, loved being able to tell off the jerks at the auto shop for thinkin’ she couldn’t do it herself because she was a woman. She said she’d teach me someday, even bought me my own screwdriver that I...that I never got to use. She also wrote notes on post-its and stuck ‘em around the house for when I was having a bad day, or if I was stuck at home, sick. Just little things like, ‘I love you’, or ‘have fun at school today’, or ‘don’t forget to smile’. Cheesy stuff, I know.”

“I love hearing about your mother.” Peter finally turned to look at her again, giving her a tiny, but grateful smile. “Aside from my jokes about you never shutting up, I’m always curious to know more about the woman who made you who you are today. Your stories about her are endearingly sweet.”

“Good, because I like telling ‘em.” He began pulling at the grass, twisting the blades between his large fingers absentmindedly. She couldn’t bear to chastise him for doing so. “It’s weird, huh? This one spot in this entire field. Looks like any ol’ patch of grass, and yet. Changed my whole life.”

“Do you wish otherwise?”

“No,” he said almost immediately. It was the most confident he had sounded the entire conversation. “If my dad had just been a typical deadbeat dad, I would’ve never gotten picked up by the Ravagers. I’d be livin’ with my grandpa. And don’t get me wrong, I...loved him, but I think I’d be so different if I stayed here. Quieter. Shyer. I wouldn’t be confident, I wouldn’t be excited about life, I wouldn’t be...happy. I’d probably just hide out in my room, spending the rest of my life wonderin’ what could’ve been.” He smiled ruefully. “In a way, it’s like the Ravagers made me get over feeling sorry for myself. Like, I still thought of my mom every single day I was with ‘em, I just...they gave me purpose. Not the greatest purpose, but something to do. Something outside of sittin’ around and crying. So, yeah. Mixed feelings about the Ravagers, but at the same time, kinda grateful. Also gave me Yondu, and Kraglin, and eventually, all of you guys. So, no, I don’t wish it happened any other way.”

As always, Gamora felt as if she had a million more questions. It was strange, wanting to know so much more about another person. She had never wanted to look so deeply into another’s soul before, never wanted to know every last detail about their existence in tandem with her own. Then again, she never shared her life with someone before becoming a Guardian, never intertwined herself with another before becoming Peter’s best friend, and subsequently, his partner in more ways than one. And of course, she knew Peter had secrets he would never tell, things he didn’t want her to know about, and she respected that. But it was foreign to her, understanding someone so thoroughly and still knowing there were surprises to uncover. It was also a comfort, knowing she had found constancy in her life after years of a different kind of unknown.

Still, she could sense it was time to stop. Even Peter had his limits when it came to exploring his emotions, and there was a reservation to him, an impending sense of doom and gloom in his posture, that told her he wanted to spend the rest of their time at the hospital in silence. Gamora could only hope she was being the support he needed, that he wasn’t regretting taking her instead of Mantis. Much of their relationship had been improvisation on her part - a push-and-pull, a give-and-take, of what they wanted and what they needed, and where they could meet in the middle. Then again, she suspected Peter was very much doing the same. However, when it came to them, it seemed that instinct was winning over inexperience, considering how well they understood each other already.

They spent the next several hours walking around town, ducking into little shops and boutiques every now and then, finding trinkets to bring home to the Guardians, especially Yondu, Mantis, and Groot, who adored any little knick-knack they could get their hands on. Peter walked a little lighter, held his chin a little higher, and was more openly affectionate the way he usually was, kissing the top of her head while they were waiting in line, or insisting they take at least one selfie by the town’s welcome sign.

When they returned to their hotel room by late afternoon, they fell into their little routine again - Peter secretly thrilled at the thought of him and Gamora having a ‘routine’ of any sort in comparison to the utter chaos of living on the Milano with the team - where Peter began making dinner, while Gamora went to shower.

After she emerged from the bathroom, he could hear her footsteps approaching, though he knew she would scold him if he looked away from the bubbling pot of pasta. To his surprise, he felt her strong arms wrap around his waist, squeezing him briefly, before patting him on the stomach and stepping away. “Hey,” he said without looking at her, though as he moved across the counter to grab the strainer, he heard the sound of paper crinkling below him.

Glancing down, he realized Gamora had left a sticky note on his shirt.

He moved the pot off its element and switched off the stove before peeling the piece of paper off, his heart pounding elatedly. He held it up to his face, and there, in Gamora’s neat handwriting: thank you for sharing your life with me. He quickly blinked away the sudden wetness in his eyes before turning towards the living room. Gamora was lounging on the couch with her back to him, wearing yet another one of Peter’s sweaters (had she packed any tops of her own?), braiding her still-damp hair as if she hadn’t just done one of the sweetest things he’d ever had the fortune to receive.

“I’d like to reiterate that you’re the best girlfriend ever and I really wanna kiss you right now,” he informed her.

“Finish making dinner and I’ll consider it,” she replied without looking up, though she was smiling as she said it. ______

Unlike the previous morning, in which Peter had been entirely on top of her, this time Gamora woke to find him wrapped around her side, fingers digging into her hips, her face half-smushed into the pillows from the sheer weight of his body pressing against hers. At first, she suspected he wanted something - her, to be specific - but there was nothing suggestive about his body language. In fact, he seemed almost a little too clingy. “Peter?” she whispered.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

Her heart broke a little. He sounded like a small child, lost, forgotten, left behind. She slowly turned over so she could look at him. “Peter...you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Came all this way to turn back around? That’d be pretty cowardly of me,” he mumbled, angling his face away from her, petulant.

“It’s not cowardice. If you’ve taught me anything in our time together, it’s that choosing to prioritize your heart over your head isn’t inherently a bad thing.” In a reversal of their usual roles, she found herself running her fingers through his hair, slowly twisting his curls between her pointer finger and thumb. “Take it from someone who has thought many times over about looking into records of her long-dead parents, only to turn away out of fear of what she might find.”

That seemed to startle him. “Really? You’ve almost tried?”

“Yes. And maybe someday I’ll be ready. But right now, I’m not. And I’ll admit to that. I’m quite happy right where I am. Maybe that’s you too.” She removed one hand from his scalp, resting it over his heart. “No one will think less of you, Peter. So what do you want to do?”

He fell silent for a few long minutes, contemplating. He began sliding his hands over her body, along the bare skin of her waist, soft, open, though there was nothing sexual about his touch. Rather, it was a steady reminder that she was there, keeping him afloat as she so often did. He knew she was constantly worried about how helpful she was being, how she managed to think herself in circles until she was convinced she was more of a hindrance than anything else. They both had that in common - that ability to bring themselves down with one simple thought spiral. But in all honesty, she had been nothing less than perfect.

His mind then wandered to his mother. Oh, how badly he wanted to see her again. Hear her voice, feel her arms around him, her hand ruffling his hair. Sit with her at the dining table and talk about school, lay down side-by-side in the truck bed with the Walkman between them. For all his talk of her, it was then that he realized he never got to say goodbye, not really. And that’s what this was all about in the end, wasn’t it?

Peter gave Gamora a simple, half-hearted smile. “I want to try.”

“Then let’s try.”

After a slow, mostly silent breakfast, the two of them bundled up and made their way to the cemetery. The atmosphere in the car was somber, unusually tense after the light-hearted nature of their first day. Neither of them were in good spirits, though understandably so. Peter usually liked to combat the mood with a joke or two, but now was not the time. “There’s a lot of cemeteries here,” he said quietly. “But I had a feeling this would be the right one.”

As the car pulled up the drive into the parking lot, Gamora caught a glimpse out the window of the small plaque mounted on the front entrance - St. Peter Catholic Church Cemetery. Yes, she knew exactly what Peter had meant.

The paper wrappings of the flowers that Peter had purchased rustled loudly as they started crossing the lawn - his hands were trembling. Considering he was known as one of the best gunslingers on campus, perhaps one of the very best in the galaxy, it was unnerving to see them so unsteady. Gamora reached to take one of his hands, intertwining their fingers together, shooting him an encouraging smile before they continued in silence, eyes traveling across the ground as they searched. It was another six minutes before they found the name they were looking for.

Meredith Elizabeth Quill - Mother, Daughter, Friend, & Dreamer - 1957 - 1988

“She was too young,” Peter whispered, as if she could hear him, moving to set the flowers at her gravestone. His heart sank a little at seeing there were no other offerings around - had all his family gone, left town or worse, died too early? He knelt on the ground, motioning for Gamora to join him. Somewhat clumsily, she settled down beside him, watching as he pulled the Walkman from his belt and set it down in the space between their knees.

After a full minute of uncomfortable silence, he seemed ready to speak again. “Uh, hey, Mom. I don’t know how to do this, exactly? I feel kinda stupid talking out loud, but I’ve seen people do it on TV all the time, so, uh, here goes. I’ve been back on Earth for two years now, but I haven’t come to see you until now because...I wasn’t ready. Actually, I don’t really feel ready now, either. But I wanted to be brave. For you.” He swallowed. “I think about you all the time. I talk about you a lot, too. I’ve always been a mama’s boy, hey? And I...I met Dad. Um. I might’ve killed him, too.” He let out a watery laugh. Gamora looked around warily to ensure no one was nearby to listen in on Peter’s confession. “I don’t know what you saw in him, Mom. He was a real piece of work. The biggest asshole in the entire damn galaxy, even. He saw people as pawns, treated ‘em like dirt. He talked about how disappointed he was in what he found, and I just...I don’t get that. How do you look at other people, and not want to...to know them, to understand them, to love them? Because that’s all I ever want. You deserved better than him. You deserved the whole world, but...you were taken too soon. Because of him. It’s really...so freaking messed up that he killed you because he loved you. Or at least, he thought he loved you. It doesn’t make any sense to me. How someone could do something so cruel to someone they loved. None of what he said or did made any sense at all.”

“Peter.” Gamora clutched at his arm anxiously, desperate to get him back on topic.

“Right, I didn’t come here to talk about him. I’m so freaking done thinkin’ about him. Um, maybe I can tell you what I’ve been up to. I, uh, got kidnapped by these space pirates called the Ravagers. They were s’posed to take me to Ego, but another kid, Yondu, convinced their leader to keep me instead. Spent my whole adolescence with them, basically. Then I wanted to cut and run. Start a new life over, by myself. Be independent, you know? The way that you were. You never needed anyone, Mom, but you were always there for everyone else. And I wanted to be like that. Anyways...it didn’t exactly go as planned. I ended up running into more trouble, because you know that’s how it always goes for me. There was this girl - kinda scary, super powerful, intimidated the crap outta me - who I was trying to work with. But there was a misunderstanding, and then she tried to kill me, but then we got arrested, and one thing led to another - and now, she’s my best friend. And my co-leader. And my girlfriend. Also, she’s right here.” Gamora couldn’t help but laugh a little at the oversimplification of their first meeting. “We haven’t been together long, and we fight - a lot - but she means so much to me. And I’m so freaking grateful to have her in my life. I don’t think I’d be the same person with her.”

“We run this team called the Guardians of the Galaxy. I know, it sounds super over-the-top, but I think it rolls off the tongue, don’t you? We’ve got Gamora’s sister, Nebula, who still scares me shitless, but I dunno, she’s growing on me. And I have a sister, too, Mantis. Long story short, Dad raised her alone on his planet, so yeah, she’s my sister. She can read emotions and she’s super bubbly and friendly and sweet, you’d love her. There’s Drax, this big guy who seems kinda fight-crazy at first, but he’s cool, and he’s got a heart as big as his giant freaking muscles. Rocket, who, I’m not even joking, is a raccoon - well, a bioengineered creature that looks like a raccoon - who really loves weapons. He’s kind of a jerk, but he’s a lot of fun, too. Groot’s a talking tree - well, technically, he’s like a foot tall right now, and Gamora and I are basically his parents, but when he’s older - was older? It’s hard to explain - he’s like, twelve feet tall. Oh, and I can’t forget Yondu, he’s with us too. He’s like a brother, although sometimes he tries to ‘dad’ me. It’s weird, but I'm cool with it.”

Peter began to laugh again, more joyously this time. “I can almost hear your voice, Mom. You’re probably like, ‘what did you get yourself into, baby?’. And you’re right. I sound absolutely insane saying all that stuff out loud. I have a bug-like alien empath for a sister, a baby tree for a kid, and my girlfriend’s the deadliest woman in the galaxy. And we fight to save the lives of everyone we can, while we still go to school. Oh, I didn’t mention that. We go to this superhero school on Earth. It’s got a bunch of kids like us, with powers and abilities and stuff. We have classes on like, combat and espionage, along with normal things like math and history. It’s the strangest thing ever, but I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

“There’s all this music I’ve been listening to lately. Not new stuff, but stuff I dunno if you’ve ever heard. Or maybe you did and didn’t like it,” he chuckled. “Either way, I’ve been making mixtapes of my own. I still haven't really listened to anything past the nineties, but I’ve been trying to find songs that remind me of the people in my life. I haven’t finished all of them yet, but I’ve gotten a pretty good start on Gamora’s. I think I’ll always be adding songs to hers. It’s cheesy, but it’s like...all the love songs became clearer to me once I realized I loved her.” Gamora ducked her head into his shoulder, shy. “Some of them make me think of you as well, Mom. Maybe not every word, but just, the message of love. The feeling of love. Because you never made me doubt how much you loved me. And I think that’s why I sometimes feel like I have a lot to give. Unlike Dad, I like being with people. I like helping people. Because of you.”

He bent to press play on the Walkman before shifting his legs out from underneath him, sprawling them out forwards, leaning back onto his hands. Gamora readjusted herself as well so she was sitting cross-legged, hands clasped neatly in her lap. The early morning clouds were beginning to part, the sun peeking through in small beams of light, bathing the entire cemetery in a warm, hazy glow. It glistened off the dewdrops that had settled on the grass from the overnight rain, illuminating the ground beneath them.

The first time ever I saw your face...I thought the sun rose in your eyes...and the moon and the stars...were the gifts you gave…to the dark and the endless skies…

Gamora briefly glanced around, hoping that they were still alone and would continue to go undisturbed, before turning back towards Peter. His eyes were slightly glazed over, though out of introspection instead of sadness this time, fixated on the inscription of Meredith’s gravestone. “How are you feeling?”

“Peaceful, actually,” he replied, rolling onto his side slightly so he could watch her. “I’m glad I did this.”

And the first time ever I kissed your mouth...I felt the earth move in my hands...

“That’s good to hear,” she nodded. ‘I’ve been...worried about you. Ever since you said you wanted to do this...I didn’t know if I could be there the way you needed me to be.”

“Well, I think this trip has proven a few things to me,” Peter said thoughtfully. “Seeing all these places...I don’t think of this town as home anymore. The only time I’m home is when I’m with people I love. And, you know, my mom might be physically here, but she’s really here.” He patted the Walkman, his fingers lingering on the lettering. “I don’t feel attached to this place the way I thought I would be. I was emotional over what happened here, not where it happened, y’know? So, maybe I’ll come back here again someday with you and everyone else, show ‘em where I came from, but it’s just...buildings to me.”

“Your sentiment has always been in people...things. Never places,” she commented, nodding in agreeance. “You said ‘a few things’. What else?”

“I also realized how solid we are.” He cracked a grin. “I mean, who knew, right? Looks like everyone really was onto something when they wanted us to be together. I can honestly say that this past month has been really amazing because of you. Like being a part of this. I...thank you, so much, for coming here with me, Gamora. It was a lot to ask of you, but I know I can always be myself around you, and I...I needed that. Especially now.”

She crawled a little closer, allowing Peter to envelop her in his arms, burying his face into her neck. Once again, she could feel the dampness on her shoulders, the tremble of his body, and all she could do was hold on. But she knew this time, it was out of happiness, and not sorrow. He was, for the most part, done crying for his mother. As he said, he was at peace.

They sat, loosely embraced, for another ten minutes, before Peter finally pulled away. “Okay,” he said, exhaling. He paused the music and slipped the Walkman back onto his belt, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his coat. “I’m ready to go. Let’s head back to the hotel, start packing.”

“Wait.” Gamora grabbed his arm before Peter could stand up. “Hold out your hand.” Confused, he did as he was told, only to find that she had placed a pad of sticky notes and a pen in his palm.

He smiled at her, awed. Sniffling, he began to write. Another few minutes passed before he was satisfied, sticking the note onto the flowers he’d brought, before he got to his feet, pulling Gamora up beside him. “Bye, Mom,” he said softly. “I’ll come back with the rest of the team someday. We’ll tell you the stories about our crazy adventures then. I don’t think I could do it justice by myself. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, the two of them strolled away, arm-in-arm, ready to return to their reality - an uncontrollable team, a slew of homework and tests, and the strong likelihood of another life-threatening mission or job waiting for them. But for now, Peter had found his peace. He had said his goodbyes.

I felt your heart so close to mine...and I knew our joy...would fill the earth...and last till the end of time…

- Roberta Flack, 1969

(but also Peter Quill, your little Star-Lord)

a/n: i used to read over the epilogue of the main fic and think, "wow, this is peak sappiness". never mind, it has now been beaten by this one-shot instead.

the song they were listening to at meredith's grave is the first time ever i saw your face by roberta flack, which is a song peter has on his "for gamora" mixtape and one of my personal favorite love songs. also, i know i'm certainly not the first person to write a "peter and gamora visit meredith's grave" fic, but i wanted to do one in this universe, since i believe most others are set post-infinity war.

thank you so much for reading! likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. as always, I hope you're enjoying this series as much as I'm enjoying writing it :)

#starmora #peter quill #gamora #meredith quill #guardians of the galaxy #myfic #myfic: 20q #i have a lot of meredith headcanons #also peter cries a lot in this one sorry

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imgonnabeyourbubblegumwitch · 7 years

Text

I Love You, You Pay My Rent: Chapter Two

First Chapter (Prologue)

Previous Chapter (Chapter One)

Nico had been living with Will Solace for almost three days. In that time he’d broken Will’s washing machine, found out Will had an aversion to fortune cookies and, well not much else. Will spent a lot of time out of the apartment which kind of led Nico to question why Will even wanted anybody around unless Nico’s sole purpose was a live, moody burglar alarm. If that was Wil’s logic then he was going to be solely disappointed because Nico was pretty sure Nico would either manage to miss the burglary completely or be too busy hiding under the bed to fight the intruder off.

Will was out again, doing who knew what, which left Nico with time to kill before he went to work. He was supposed to be using the time to come to a decision about whether this thing he had going on was going to be permanent, but he was mostly staring at the wall with an utterly blank mind. He was no longer worried Will was a murderer which he supposed was what the three days had been about in the first place. He hadn't freaked out about the flood, and he let Nico eat his leftover pizza which was a definite plus in a roomate even if Will was a pineapple-person with a questionable taste in toppings. He could always scrape the vegetables off. And most importantly of all, of course, was the fact that living with Will Solace was 100% completely and totally free. He didn't understand why he was still hesitating.

Perhaps it was because Will Solace was driving Nico mad. It wasn't just the mystery of the free room. It annoyed him how untroubled Will was most of the time. He just seemed to breeze through life without a care in the world. Octavian's words about Will being handed things stuck like a sharp object in his mind, uncomfortable and unavoidable. He knew part of his issue with Will's easy-going nature was that he was really jealous about how good Will had it, but now Nico had it that good too. So maybe that wasn't exactly it.

He still had nothing when he had to leave for work. He spent much of his shift pouring out drinks on autopilot and trying to figure out exactly what his problem. Reyna eventually pointed out he was ignoring people with less vitriol but more intensity than usual and asked if there was anything wrong. Nico liked Reyna so he timed his break to coincide with hers and sat with her in the dingy closet that was classed as the staff break-room trying to explain the problem in a way that didn't make him sound like a whiney brat or an idiot for not leaping at the offer the second it had left Will's mouth.

"So, the issue is you don't like him?" Reyna asked.

Nico ran a finger around his coke glass, drawing patterns in the condensation.

"It's not that I don't like him," Nico said.

"Coming from you Nico, not not-liking him is a big deal."

Nico shrugged.

“I flooded his apartment and he responded by buying me Chinese. I’d be a real douche if I said I hated him.”

Reyna gave a half smile of agreement and sipped at her lemonade thoughtfully.

"Why don't you make a list of pros and cons?" She suggested. "I mean as far as I can tell the cons are he annoys you occasionally while the pros could go on for days from rent-free-apartment to Will-Solace is freaking hot.”

Nico blushed and tried to hide it behind his glass. Reyna didn't know Nico had had a crush on Percy. Reyna didn't even know Nico was gay. But he suspected she suspected. He also knew she wouldn't care but admitting it would inevitably lead to conversations he didn't want to have like ooh do you like anyone and the extended version of Will Solace is freaking hot.

He thought about Reyna’s suggestion as he made up rum and coke after rum and coke, and eventually came to the conclusion that Reyna was right. Maybe a list would clear things up. So, when he got home, too wide awake thanks to the pounding music and flashing lighting to hope to sleep for at least an hour, he dug an old notebook out of his box of junk and started a list.

Reasons not to like/want to live with Will Solace.

He was tapping his pen against the paper when he heard the front door close.

Will looked tired but he smiled when he saw Nico.

“Thought you’d still be at work.”

“What time do you think it is?” Nico asked, leaning against his doorframe and watching Will for any fresh clue as to what his deal was.

Will looked at him blankly for a moment. Then blinked as though realising he was supposed to answer.

“I honestly don’t know. Dinner time? Bed time? Time to watch Tangled time?”

“No to all of those.”

Will gave a tired grin.

“I don’t know, Tangled is sounding good right now.”

“As long as I don’t have to hear it. Anyway, I’m glad you’re up. I need an extension on this three days thing.”

“Still think I’m a murderer?” Will asked. “Because I promise this is paint.”

He gestured to a red stain on his t-shirt. It was mostly hidden by his jacket so Nico hadn’t actually noticed it before Will had called his attention to it. Will lifted his jacket to show Nico and accidentally hiked his t-shirt up in the process. Nico tried, and largely failed, to focus solely on Will’s face.

“This is blood,” Will added pointing to a tiny rust coloured stain on his sleeve. “I cut my hand.”

Nico raised an eyebrow at him. Will gave him a surprisingly mischievous smile and then shrugged.

“Sure,” he said. He took a slice of pizza from the fridge and disappeared towards his room. At his door, he paused.

“What is the time?”

“Three thirty-two am.”

Will nodded solemnly like this was profound knowledge. He had dark rings under his eyes Nico noticed, like bruises. He wondered how long Will had been up.

“Okay,” he said. “See you in the morning. Or whenever.”

The door shut behind him. Nico stared at it for several seconds and then went back to his list.

Will Solace is too chilled out about everything.

The next morning Nico woke to singing. He threw his pillow at the wall and then groaned because that, surprisingly, didn’t shut Will up and just left him without a pillow. He crawled out of bed and snatched up a pen.

Will Solace sings too much.

When Nico eventually decided to leave his room, his found Will sitting at the breakfast bar eating toast.

“You want some?” he asked when Nico shuffled into the kitchen, fully dressed but without a smile.

“It’s too early to eat.”

“It’s one thirty. In the afternoon.”

“Oh, now you can tell the time? But like I said. Early.”

Will gave him a slightly sceptical look but he didn’t argue.

“So, there’s someone coming round to look at the washing machine,” he said. “But I’ve got to go out. If you hear the door can you let them in? There’s money on the counter.”

Nico nodded his agreement, as Will slid off his seat toast in hand.

“You’re the best!”

The door closed behind him leaving an apartment that suddenly felt very empty.

Will Solace is too cheerful.

Will Solace takes up too much space.

Nico’s work schedule had been thrown off by his move across town which meant that while he wasn’t working at the bar, he did have to go into the café. Nico wondered if there was ever going to be a time in his life when he didn’t spend the majority of his time making drinks for other people.

Halfway through his shift a group of twenty-somethings showed up, Will in the midst of them. Will seemed surprised to see Nico. He seemed uneasy when giving his order, even unwilling to acknowledge he knew Nico at all. Nico shrugged it off, or tried to, but he couldn't help but be a little hurt that Will didn't want to associate himself with Nico. But whatever. Why should popular, perfect, air-headed Will Solace want anything to do with him? He was nobody.

He just happened to live with Will.

He handed Will's drink over trying to keep the scowl off his face. He turned without comment to the next customer, a tall girl with dark curly hair who hung onto Will's arm like she was worried he would float away if she loosened her grip for even a fraction of a second. Nico felt his heart drop a little more but focused on her order and tried to ignore Will ignoring him.

He was so focused on what he was doing that he only realised the girl had been speaking when Will cut in.

"Lay off him Drew."

Nico turned to Will in some surprise. Will still looked uncomfortable, doubly so when Drew turned heavily lined eyes onto him.

"Why do you care?"

Will glanced at Nico and Nico shook his head a fraction. Will still seemed indecisive but Drew was already grabbing her coffee off the counter and dragging him away.

Nico watched their group out of the corner of his eye. He may not have liked interacting with people much but there was a time when he'd had to be very good at reading them. The dynamics of Will's group were for the most part boring to the point of being so stereotypical they almost came out the other side and became subversive. The group were uniformly attractive and empty-headed: noisy and boisterous they commanded attention and all talked over each other without listening to what anyone else had to say. Drew sat close to Will, practically on his lap. Will seemed unusually subdued. Nico had to wonder if Will was usually that out of place within his friendship group or whether, for some reason, Nico's presence was making him uncomfortable.

It would only be fair if that were true. Will's presence in the cafe was making Nico uncomfortable. He hated the way Will was acting: quiet and distracted until anyone spoke to him directly. And then the mask went on, or fell off perhaps, and Will Solace acted exactly how Nico thought Will Solace would act before he'd met him: smirking, confident and flirty. He hated it because it was so different from the Will who had helped him clean up the apartment, or even the dorky Will who had turned up in facepaint to ask him if he wanted to move in in the first place.

At home he found his notebook.

Will Solace makes no sense.

He stared at the list and then screwed it up and threw it against the wall. It wasn't getting him anywhere.

He wasn't sure if he would have confronted Will about the cafe thing, but Nico didn't see him for a full two days after that. Nico was almost starting to think that he was dead in a ditch somewhere, possibly dying from alcohol poisoning, or maybe from an attack of Drew. When he eventually came home it was with a half-empty bottle of vodka and sunglasses on, and Nico was suddenly furious: furious at the way Will just came and went, furious at how Will could apparently wander around drunk at midday without a care in the world, furious that he'd actually been worried about him. He raised an eyebrow as Will put the bottle on the counter and sank to the floor, apparently exhausted.

"Is having endless money really that much work?" he asked scathingly.

Will stared at him for a moment.

"It's actually pretty easy," he said dully. He wasn't fighting back and for some reason that annoyed Nico more.

"I don't get it. I don't get you."

"We've known each other for like five days. Didn't think you'd be the instant sharing, caring, soul-bearing type."

"Not entirely sure you have a soul," Nico snarled and he was no longer sure why he was angry but the fury kept coming. He'd bottled up so much rage over his life that it all came spilling out at the tiniest opening. It didn't matter that there was a tiny voice in his head saying that Will didn't deserve this.

"Is this about the cafe?" Will asked. "Because I agree Drew was out of line but -"

"But you didn't do anything about it," Nico pointed out, "because I'm just someone you need in your house. For some reason. I don't think you've ever actually explained why. Or why Octavian was basically telling me to run."

"That's an overstatement," Will said. The set of his shoulders was defensive.

"How many housemates have you had?" Nico demanded.

"Nico-"

"No, I deserve to know."

"It's not what you think."

"How can it be not what I think? I don't think anything because you don't make sense."

Will sighed and dragged a hand through his hair.

"You don't have to stay. I'm not forcing you."

"Fine."

Nico stormed back to his room, feeling strangely hollow underneath the anger. It didn't matter that there was a voice in his head telling him Will didn't deserve this. It didn't matter that this was a stupid decision, that he'd be homeless, that he couldn't afford anywhere else. The anger didn't stop. He threw his clothes into a bag. It didn't take long. The boxes would be awkward, he'd have to come back for those. It wasn't ideal but Will was out so much he doubted he'd have to see his stupid face again when returning for them.

Nico was still seething when he left his room, even if a more rational part of him was making itself louder demanding to know where he thought he was going. Will was sitting at the breakfast bar with his back to Nico. The sunglasses and vodka sat next to him on the counter. For some reason that bugged Nico and he was preparing to throw open the door never to return when Will turned.

"Do you have somewhere to go?" he asked. He actually sounded concerned and that might have annoyed him more because Will shouldn’t be concerned, he should be furious, arguing back. But he couldn’t answer, and he couldn’t move.

"What happened?" he asked when he could finally move his jaw. His tone was brusque and Will winced. Will moved his hand up to his face unconsciously and then put the ice pack back up to cover the angry looking, purplish bruise tainting the skin under his eye.

"It's nothing," he said.

"I should see the other guy?" Nico asked sceptically.

Will laughed a little hollowly.

"No, I definitely came off worse."

Nico felt the anger draining away and was relieved to find he could let it go. The cyclone of rage had been a little scary; he didn't want to end up like his father.

He dropped his bag to the floor and moved to sit down opposite Will.

"I don't get you Will Solace," he commented as he took his seat.

"Oh I'm your typical rich airhead," Will replied. It was a good attempt at carelessness but didn't quite cut it. Will was shaken up.

"You're a terrible liar," Nico commented.

They sat in silence for a minute.

"Three," Will said suddenly.

"Three?"

"Housemates. Before you."

"That's a lot less dramatic than Octavian made it out to be."

Will shrugged.

"Octavian doesn't like me much," he said, but didn't elaborate.

"To be fair I don't like you much either," Nico said, though he said it lightly.

"I don't know why. I'm pretty awesome," Will said. His tone was light, matching Nico's and his shoulders relaxed somewhat.

"You are kidding right? You are the most annoying person I have ever lived with."

"How am I annoying?"

"I literally made a list," Nico said despite the fact that said list had been something of a bust. "Awful food."

"Liking pineapple isn't a crime Nico."

"It is if you choose to put it on pizza. Okay fine, you are too cheerful."

"I'm too - cheerful?"

"Yep it's infuriating. The world really isn't all that great you know."

Will gave Nico a very sceptical look. His eyes were regaining their sparkle and Nico was ridiculously, stupidly relieved about that.

"Is that all you've got? I like pineapple and I'm too cheerful."

"Constant singing."

"Oh come on!"

"Seriously I am so sick of Disney. And that one about the sun. What even is that?"

"No one is ever sick of Disney."

"I am!" Nico said. "I am very sick of Disney. I don't even like Disney."

"Maybe I don't want you as a roomate then. Maybe you should go."

"That's where you are going to draw a line? Me not liking Disney?"

"Yes. It is. Or it would be if I believed you. Hercules? I bet you are a Hercules person. Or maybe Big Hero Six."

"I have seen neither of those."

"Wow you are the worst."

Nico stuck his tongue out at Will and Will grinned.

"I'm surprised you didn't bring up my friends to be honest," Will said musingly.

"They do seem pretty awful," Nico agreed.

"Mitchell isn't all bad. And Cecil and Lou-Ellen are cool, I just don't end up seeing much of them. Really it's only Drew that's a pain."

"If you don't like her -?"

"She's a terrible person. I know that. But I can't just ditch her."

"You are way too soft Solace. Please tell me you didn't get punched over her."

Will laughed.

"No, it wasn't over her."

"But you won't tell me what it was over right?"

"It's nowhere near as exotic as whatever you are imagining. I confiscated the vodka off of Cecil and he punched me."

"This is a guy you just described as cool."

"I don't think he was actually going for my face. He was trying to snatch the bottle back but he was pretty drunk and his aim sucks when he's sober. He was very apologetic."

"Your life is weird," Nico told him.

"But it's not boring."

"No I can't imagine endless partying will ever become repetitive or boring," Nico said snarkily.

Will gave him an odd look, but just shrugged.

"Well I'm getting food. You want anything before you go?"

"Go?" Nico asked, more than a little confused. "I don't have work tonight. It's Tuesday. Though considering your track record with days and time I'm not surprised you don't know that."

It was Will's turn to look confused. He looked kind of adorable and Nico's stomach did odd things, like it was attempting Olympic gymnastics.

"You said you were leaving?"

"I've changed my mind," Nico said while trying to make it seem like this wasn't a big deal at all.

"Oh," Will said.

"Really?" he added.

Nico shrugged uncomfortably.

"It's been pointed out to me that I'd be pretty stupid to turn down free rent. On reflection, it's probably a good point."

"Besides," he said, "if I stay I might get to witness you getting punched for weird reasons. That could be interesting."

Will smiled but it was the small, unconscious one that was rarer than a blue moon or the Hades mythomagic figurine. It made Nico stupidly glad he'd agreed to stay.

"You know offering you this place was never supposed to be some big mysterious thing," Will said thoughtfully as he got up to throw the ice pack in the sink.

"I prefer living with someone else. Percy mentioned you needed somewhere and since I'm not paying anything for this place it seemed unfair to make you pay."

It was an explanation but it also offered more questions, like why Will didn't have to pay rent. Still it was a start.

"I can't believe you wrote a list about how annoying I am," Will added as he picked out a take-out menu and chucked it at Nico.

"It was a thoroughly valid exploration of your personality and limits."

"Can I see it?"

"Absolutely not."

"That seems unfair," Will said. "Maybe I'll have to write a list of all the ways you annoy me and then refuse to let you see it."

"I'd like to see you try," Nico replied. "I'm not annoying in the slightest."

Will laughed. His eyes were really blue.

"Sure Neeks," he said. "If you say so."

Next Chapter

#Writing #fandom #percy jackson and the olympians #Will Solace #Nico Di Angelo #will solace/nico di angelo #solangelo

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a-windsor · 7 years

Note

Here's a nysara prompt, if you're still taking them... 5 times they get walked in on

This got really long, but SO MUCH fun. Thanks, anon!

Five times they get walked in on,or, The Challenges of Maintaining an Active Sex Life While Raising TinyAssassins

It’sbeen a matter of weeks since they settled in here, on this hidden island.

(“Great,” Sara had said on one oftheir first nights here, “Another freaking island.” And Nyssa had simply smilesoftly and said that she would scour the beach for pretty blonde castaways.Sara loves it when she makes jokes.)

They have been struggling to set upa routine amidst the chaos of establishing a whole household. What with a brandnew baby sleeping in their room (when he does sleep), they’ve been strugglingto do a few other things, too.

Even with the crazy sleep schedule,the total mindfuck of taking on the responsibility of a child, and thestress of making a new home, Sara has somehow found the time to be incrediblyhorny. She’d be ashamed that she couldn’t make it a month if she… weren’tso busy being horny.

It doesn’t help that they have stillbeen together often, still sleep every night side by side, and Nyssa does thisthing, in her sleep, that - Anyway.

They just haven’t been awake andalone at the same time, long enough to… relieve the tension.

That’s why, when the opportunitypresents itself in Nyssa’s study, just the two of them and that big, empty,inviting desk, Sara pounces on it.

Literally.

“Habibti,” Nyssa chuckles, lowly,throatily. It hums through Sara. “We have-“

“Time, for once,” Sara says, pushingforward, until Nyssa’s feet have left the ground, the desk bearing her fullweight. She turns her attention to Nyssa’s neck, feather-light kisses, whileher hand finds its way down the front of Nyssa’s pants. “Let’s not blow it. Or,I mean-“

“Sara,” Nyssa groans, melting intoher. “Pl-“

The all too familiar wail at leastgives them a little warning before Umm Saleem and Damian barge into the study.That gives Sara just enough time to get her hand out of Nyssa’s pants.

“Ah, apologies,” Umm Saleem says,but she doesn’t sound very sorry to Sara’s ears. “You asked me to-“

Sara doesn’t hear the rest over theblood still pounding in her ears, increased by the flush still spreading overNyssa’s cheeks, neck, and chest. Sara blows out a frustrated breath, but beforeshe can compose herself enough to rejoin the conversation, she finds Nyssa’slips on hers.

“I bought us half an hour,” shesays, then, hauling Sara back towards her.

Sara grins wolfishly.

“Well, that’s a start.”

Sin should be used to it, really sheshould, but goddammit, she’s done it again. She slams a hand over hereyes and then spins away so that baby Damian isn’t subjected to the sight. Notthat the sleeping fifteen-month-old can, y’know, see, but still. Just in caseSin’s startled, strangled cry has woken him.

“This is my house now, y’know,” Sincroaks.

Thankfully, Nyssa seems to havegotten over her strong desire to murder Sin in the moment of coitusinterruptus, so Sin is still alive.

“Yeah,but right now it’s our bathroom,” Sara calls cheekily, unfazed.

“Ugh,” Sin groans, back stillturned.

“Is everything alright with Damian?”

Nyssa asks.

“Yep, no, definitely. You know,diapers are not really my thing, but given the alternative, yep, gonna just doit myself,” Sin rambles.

“Everything you need is on thedresser,” Sara says, and Sin can just imagine the shit-eating grin on her face,but nope, nope, don’t wanna imagine that.

“This poor, poor child,” Sin lamentsas she flees, picking up diapers and wipes as she should have all along.

“He’s fine!” Sara yells after her.

“I am so sorry your moms are likethis,” Sin tells Damian, who still dozes, drowsily, on her shoulder. “I thinkI’m gonna invest in a bell for you.”

It’s a particularly beautiful day onParadise Island. The sun is bright, the breeze refreshing, the water extrasparkly.

Sar’ab has been given the task oftaking six-year-old Damian up a nearby rocky hill for the afternoon.

Sar’ab was the first assassinallowed to take Damian alone: a father in another life, his loyalty beyondquestion. And while, in those first couple years, parting from Damian, even foran afternoon, had been difficult, it is now a welcome reprieve. Damian is safeand well-cared for, his mind and his body being well-exercised.

Taer al-Asfer is sunbathing on theirveranda.

Her sunglasses are comically large,the sun runs amok in her golden hair, and her freckles seem to have thrown aparty to greet the light. When she notices Nyssa in the doorway, she lowers herglasses slightly and grins in a way that sends a shudder through Nyssa.

“There you are.”

Nyssa loves Paradise Island, and sheloves the days that the sun and surf are Sara’s allies.

(Those days are so many, now. Sarahas told her of her detente with the ocean. But she still taught Damian to swimas early as humanly possible. Drowning is still the only thing that scares her,even though Nyssa frequently reminds her that the ocean tried to swallow her twiceand was thoroughly unsuccessful.)

“Here I am,” Nyssa replies.

Sara’s grin grows.

“Care to join me?”

Nyssa slips in beside her on thelounge chair: built for one but frequently accommodating two (or three… humansand a dog). She relishes the contact of Sara’s warm skin at her belly andshoulders and feet, which remain exposed in her training clothes. Sarastretches languidly against her.

“I was worried you wouldn’t makeit.”

“When you summon me, habibti, Icome.”

“That is the idea.”

“Sara…”

Nyssa feigns annoyance, pretendsdisapproval, but the buzzing that started when Fatima delivered the message hasbeen building towards a fever pitch. It crescendos as Sara touches her lips tothe pulse point on Nyssa’s neck, and then all is blissfully silent: no gulls,no waves, no bustle of life in the villa. The sense of hearing completelysacrificed, in favor of sight (Sara’s eyes, half-lidded, drinking her in), ofsmell (Sara always smells of citrus, this time with sunscreen for goodmeasure), and of touch - Nyssa’s hand burying in sun-warmed hair, Sara’s softlips pressing against hers, Sara’s fingers at the knot of Nyssa’s pants, athrill tingling up her spin.

Until…

Thwack.

Sounds come rushing back, and asecond clunk is closely followed by a “Nice shot, Faris!” from down on thebeach.

Nyssa growls and stands abruptly, nowvisible to the offenders below. Sar’ab has the decency to look sheepish.Damian, a third rock in hand, smiles broadly and waves.

“Hi, Khala!”

Sara laughs.

“He’s getting an extra round ofsparring tonight,” Nyssa murmurs to Sara, who is taking her sweet time gettingup. “Scratch that. They are both getting an extra round tonight.”

“Or,” Sara says lowly, waving toDamian as the boy jumps for her attention. “You could end at the usual time,send them off for a Japanese calligraphy lesson, and meet me back here to pickup where we left off.”

“Your plan is better.”

“They usually are.”

This eye roll is real.

Azra is preternaturally brilliant,and that is definitely a challenge to parent. However, Sara will take that anyday over Soraya and her never-ending, supernova energy. She’s never met anotherthree-year-old who literally hangs from the rafters. (And why does thisvilla have so many rafters?) She’s never met another three-year-old whorequires an entire cadre of elite assassins to corral and amuse her and thenmanages to exhaust them all.

Soraya spent all day creating havocin the villa, and it still took Nyssa and Sara, together, over an hour to coaxher into sleep.

Thankfully, it seems to be one ofthose nights where Rocket has chosen to sleep with one of the children (Damian,tonight), so they don’t even need to worry about attempting to distract her sothat they may relax together after a stressful day.

“How could she stay awake so long?”Sara marvels as Nyssa applies her strong hands to knots in her back. “Shedidn’t even take a real nap.”

“If falling asleep on the awningoutside the kitchen does not count as a nap, then Soraya no longer naps,” Nyssacounters.

Sara begins to agree but that isburied in a grateful moan as Nyssa finds a tender spot.

“Was having one just way easier orwas D a weirdly good kid?” Sara asks, burying her face in the pillow.

“I suspect a little of both. Though,we could also be remembering only the good things. Damian had his moments ofterror.”

“Soraya has moments of peace,” Saracomplains, though it is muffled by the pillow.

“She will calm as her trainingincreases. League discipline will channel her energy into more productivepursuits.”

“Or at least I’ll have someone inthe family that hates meditation as much as I do,” Sara quips.

“Yes, you and Soraya do havevery much in common,” Nyssa teases.

“I think I’m supposed to be offendedbut your hands are doing the thing,” Sara whimpers.

“This ‘thing’?” Nyssa asks softly,fingers trailing up the inside of her thighs.

Sara hisses and flips over, pullinga grinning Nyssa down on top of her.

“You’re the worst,” Sara lies.

“You love me.”

“Mhmm,” Sara agrees, reaching up tokiss her.

Things are really starting to getinteresting when…

Click. Click. Click.

Shake.

Leap.

Sara buries her head in the crook ofNyssa’s neck and groans:

“Did you close the door all theway?”

“I thought so, but I would not putit past Sarookh to know how to open it.”

Sara flops back dramatically, andRocket starts to lick her face excessively. Sara throws a hand over her eyes.

“I thought you were with your boy,”Sara complains.

“You are still her favorite,habibti,” Nyssa says, producing one of Rocket’s favorite bones from the bedsidetable, showing it to the dog, and hen tossing it over the side of the bed.Rocket follows. “We have that in common.”

Sara grins and peeks through herfingers:

“C’mere.”

Sara feels bad.

It isn’t really the kids’fault.

That totally empty training room,after a very sweaty, invigorating, sparring session, just the two of them, hadbeen just too tempting. But they should have let it stop at some teasing makeouts, a few roaming hands.

The mats were so inviting, though.

At least they kept most of theirclothes on. Otherwise, they might have had to bring in some serious therapy forfifteen-year-old Damian. (Seven-year-old Soraya and ever clinical Azra arepretty indifferent.)

So yeah, it really isn’t thekids’ fault.

Nyssa makesthem run laps around the villa anyway.

—

fin

#nyssara #nysara #nyssa al ghul #sara lance #rocket lance #exile #damian (lance) al ghul #soraya (lance) al ghul #azra (lance) al ghul

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theunaccomplishedwriter · 7 years

Text

Breaking the Surface - Chapter 1: Cold Awakening

Hello there! Apologies I've been absent for quite a while with my writings but I've had a severe case of life happening. That and writer's block. I've been reading a lot of other people's fics though and this is something I've been thinking about writing for a while. Just glad I've finally got something published after so long! I'll try and keep this updated regularly since life has given me a break for the moment. Please leaves comments and tell me what you think! Any feedback will help me make this work the best that it possibly can be! So, without further ado, enjoy!

"Lance!" Becky yelled, causing Lance to groan and pull the covers over his head as if they could protect him from his already irate girlfriend, something which was becoming a default mode for her, even at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning.

"Lance!" Becky called again. "Lance if you don't get up right now I will come up there and kick you out myself! You know I will!"

With the memories and bruises still fresh from Becky's last gentle attempts to get him out of bed, Lance reluctantly tossed the covers off and groggily got out of bed. Lance still wasn't sure why he had to get up at the same hour that Becky did, it wasn't as if he had anywhere in particular he had to go anyway.

Grabbing a towel and heading towards the shower, he pushed the bedroom door open and mechanically headed towards the bathroom, his brain going on autopilot so he didn't see or hear the despairing look and exasperated sigh Becky tossed at him as his dishevelled frame trudged passed her.

Twiddling with the shower knobs and tentatively placing his paw under the water, Lance stepped into the small cubicle, allowing the water to flow over him as he stood there passively. While Lance knew, and had been reminded by Becky several times that he constantly looked as though he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, Lance did try to make himself somewhat clean and presentable. But, with things going the way they were, there didn't really seem to be too much point in worrying about his general hygiene too much.

Without paying too much attention, Lance went through the motions of lathering his fur with shampoo, rinsing it off and spending an inordinate amount of time drying his fur and spines. He really needed to get fur dryer but he accidentally busted Becky's the other week and Becky wasn't about to lend him his new one, so he'd been stuck with a towel dry for a while now, which was hellish and all but impossible to get his spines done.

Eventually giving up, shaking the excess water off his quills and allowing them to drip dry again, Lance wrapped his towel around himself and chucked his dirty clothes in the washing basket, not wanting another argument about the whole cleanliness thing this early again.

Heading back into the bedroom, with Becky too preoccupied with getting ready for work to give him anymore disparaging looks, Lance rummaged through one of his boxes for some clothes. He didn't blame Ash for dumping his stuff in those boxes and shoving on the street. Well, at the time Lance remembered a lot of colourful words being shouted at the impassive front door but he'd been freaking pissed then.

"She's overreacting." Lance had thought. "It's not like I was going to do anything. She was just jealous. So some other girl likes me. What a fucking surprise! Had she not met me? I'm me! I'm the fucking bomb! Who wouldn't be interested in me! Hell, if I weren't me I'd been interested in me! She just can't handle the fact that she may have some competition. That's it. Just can't hack someone friendly competition. She'll be crawling back soon. This was all temporary. Just a bump in the road. It's not like I'm gonna do anything with Becky. I mean, she's nice and all but, I mean come on! I'm not that fucking shallow! This was all just temporary. Just temporary…"

But she didn't come back. The door remained firmly shut and no matter how loud Lance would shout, no matter how often he texts or called, Ash remained as silent as the grave. Day after day he'd turn up and the same silence was his only reward for all his loud efforts.

He'd been rooming with Becky since he was kicked out. Sleeping on the sofa, obviously. He wasn't in to her. She was nice and liked to play at being a musician, but that's all she was, just someone to play along with. Nothing serious. Nothing permanent. Then he saw the concert.

Becky left but, disparaging her efforts but, as soon as she was out the room, Lance scrambled to the remote to watch her play again. She was… amazing. Her voice. Her guitar skills. Her power. That's what it was. Her sheer, unbridled, unadulterated power. She had those mammals on their feet cheering. Cheering for her. Just her. He watched, jaw slightly dropped until he turned the TV off, walked over to the kitchen, and pulled a bottle of Glenfiddich.

"How can she do this to me?" Lance had thought, chugging down another mouthful of whiskey from the bottle, the bottle nearly empty and an hour being lost to his internal venom. "She fucking needs me! I made her! What's she without me? A two-bit guitar player and I fucking showed her how to play! Could barely strum a G chord when I met her and now she's thinks she's Jimi fucking Hendrix or something! Those people they… they don't know talent if it appeared in front of them with a massive neon sign and a firework display spelling it out with a choreographed display happening round it. Fuck them all! Fuck her! Set free? SET FUCKING FREE! Set free from what?! She wasn't trapped! She didn't fucking escape anything! All I did was tell her a few truths! I'm not the bad guy here! She's the conniving bitch here! I'm the good guy!"

Downing the rest of the whiskey, Lance slowly got up from the sofa, his legs nearly buckling from the sudden movement. Looking to the bedroom where Becky had not re-emerged from, Lance stared at the door for what seemed to be an eternity, his mind contemplating his next move as the alcohol sloshed the rational thoughts out of the way, as he moved towards the door and was thoughts and warnings were consumed by the oblivion of the blackout.

Waking up, he didn't remember what had happened, but he could feel the shame and regret hit him like a freight train. Looking over, he saw Becky asleep, her mouth forming a little smile as she lay next to her guilt-ridden partner. He placed his head back on the pillow, staring up at the bland white ceiling. There was no going back. He didn't mean it, but he couldn't undo it now. He'd become the very thing that Ash had sung about. Someone to escape from. To be set free. And now he'd ensnared another in his web. Whether it was the bottle of whiskey or his feelings, he had to run to the bathroom to get all the bile out of him, knowing whatever he brought out of himself, it would be a mere fraction of what lay within him.

The first few days were so beautiful for Becky. She kissed him so loving every morning, played with him at gigs, made dinners just to show how much she cared. She wasn't the best at any of those things, but she tried. Goddamn she tried. He remembered her saying how perfect everything would be. How their life would be glorious and beautiful, not matter what anyone else said. Their relationship was all that mattered and they would have a life and home that matched. She was so hopeful, so caring, so… fucking naïve.

So here he was. Six months down the line on a dreary September day, still living out of the boxes that his ex had thrown out of their old flat while he lived a half-existence with a girl he never loved and turned her love of him into a deformed and decaying thing, it's colour faded from its early bright hues to a near blackened husk of its former self.

Throwing on his usual get-up, Lance wiped away the last vestiges of sleep and cleared his mind of the bitter thoughts and headed out to get some much-needed breakfast. Schlepping over to the kitchenette, Lance quickly made himself some cereal and planted himself on the sofa, mindlessly skimming through the TV channels.

"Urgh, seriously Lance? Can you not do that at the table?" Becky said, still doing her last touch up of mascara with her pocket mirror.

"'Ow elsh am I gonna watsh the TV?" Lance responded slovenly, every word having to negotiate its way round the cereal in his mouth.

"Ew, that's so disgusting!" Becky grimaced, before turning to check herself in her pocket mirror one last time for any defects in her appearance before snapping the mirror shut, satisfied with her work.

"Sorry." Lance replied, swallowing the food and casting his eyes away from Becky.

"Got any more gigs lined up then?" Becky asked, her tone implying it was more to fill the dead air than out of genuine interest.

"No… nothing yet." Lance eventually muttered in response.

It hadn't been hard to get gigs initially. Becky and he got gigs quite regularly, even becoming the favourites at some bars. For two whole months it had been going fine. Even after Ash's rise to fame their bookings didn't dwindle. They all knew she'd been with Lance but just assumed they'd decided to split and both had gone in different directions. At least, that's what Lancer had been saying. He needed the gigs and, so long as they drew in paying customers, the owners were happy to give them time to play.

But then the article happened.

He'd been woken up by the phone ringing, with a very cold sounding manager telling him not to darken his door again. Three more similar calls later and very little explanations as to why all his gigs were being scratched off led him to search the internet. Maybe someone had written a bad review or something. It wouldn't have been the first but definitely the first that cost him gigs like this.

He didn't need to look far.

It was everywhere. An article with Ash promoting her new album and giving the story behind her hit single. A reveal all story. A reveal all story that included him. A reveal all story that included him that did not put him the best light. Or any light for that matter. It was a character assassination except the assassin in question had not only put a bullet in his head, but rather had dropped an atomic bomb over him. There was not a shred of light of him left, just the pit of blackness that was Lance, the ex-boyfriend who belittled an up and coming star's dreams before galivanting off with some seductress of equal ill repute.

It can't be that bad, right? Lance thought. I mean, who hasn't had a bad breakup? I'm sure this'll all blow over soon. Something else will come up and overshadow this. No problem, I just have to wait this out. That's all.

Waiting it out took a bit longer than expected. Booked gigs vanished, door slammed in his face, glares and outright abuse became the norm from animals he's never even met before as well as those he'd known for years.

It was when he was out with Becky on their way to one of the few bars that hadn't slammed its door in their faces that a boar strode straight across the road and stood in front of them, his eyes blind with rage, looking not at Lance, but directly at Becky, into her eyes, as if he was trying to look directly into her soul.

"You are a fucking whore." And then he spat directly into Becky's face and abruptly marched away.

With the boar stalking off, Becky wiped off the saliva off her face, flicked it to the ground, wiped her paws on her dress, grabbed Lance off and led him to the gig, his face still uncomprehending and unmoving. They played the gig, got paid, and went home. It had been their best gig yet. Becky, while not the best singer in the world, somehow broke through whatever barrier that held her back and let her voice soar. Even the mostly hostile crowd softly applauded her efforts. And all the while, through every song, every chord, every note, Becky smiled. A smile so simple, so innocent, so good.

Lance had never heard anyone cry so hard. She curled up on the bed, bawling her eyes out. Those choking, guttural cries were almost primordial. It was if the boar had split her in two, bearing her innermost self, open to the world to judge while she, flayed, could do nothing.

Through all of it Becky had been supportive. She told him not to take notice, held his hand, encouraged him to go out with her to do gigs, even going out of her way to book them for him when he was too depressed or drunk to do it himself. She'd been his support, a lifeline, a compass in this hostile and seemingly unnavigable sea of bile, trying to get him to the shore where her almost saccharine promises lay of everything just being fine. And now she was letting everything seep out and stain the sheets below her, as if everything that kept her up had snapped.

All Lance could do was feebly hold her. He didn't say anything. What could he say? That it would be okay? Even if he didn't truly love her, he couldn't lie to her like that. Couldn't promise those sweet dreams she promised him. It wasn't his way. All he could do was hold her so she wouldn't be alone.

She got a job in real estate two week later. It was good for her, she had always been a kind and chatty person so it suited her. She met other animals, animals who weren't interested in the music scene. Normal animals. Animals into gossip, fashion, TV shows, all that jazz. Good animals. It was just what Becky needed and Lance wasn't going to stop her. She needed something good in her life. Something normal. Something pleasant. Something that wasn't Lance.

It wasn't long later that the seams of their relationship finally started to fray. It was inevitable really, Lance could see it as soon as the headlines were plastered all over the online forums. But neither compelled themselves to end it. Instead, they existed next to each other. They lived their separate lives, said the occasional nice word, though those turned mean-spirited sooner than either had anticipated or wanted.

Becky reached for handbag and, with a last flick of her hair, began making her way to the door. Lance had to admit, for all the bitchiness that had surfaced from within her, she still looked wonderful. Maybe it was because Lance was looking up at her from the sofa, Becky gave out a sigh, and turned towards him.

"Lance" she began tentatively "I think it's time to face facts. You need to get a job."

Lance looked down at his cereal bowl glumly, avoiding her gaze. He knew this conversation had been coming, perched in the backgrounds of both their minds for a while like an unwanted guest. He didn't want to face it, but he knew he would have to silence its incessant cawing at some point, and it seemed the time had come.

"I… I know, but it's hard Becky."

"Have you been looking?" Becky replied with a bit of sharp directness in her tone.

"Well, you know" Lance said, rubbing his paw against the back of his head "I'm not exactly the most qualified person in the world…"

It wasn't a lie per se, Lance had good qualifications behind him, but they were just from secondary school and thinking back to the days when he tried to get a job to help him while getting into the punk scene, many saw his GCSE's of all A's as being someone who wouldn't exactly be there in a year's time, so they all turned him down.

But Becky wasn't buying it.

"Come on Lance, I know you're not stupid and you're not a teenager anymore. You've got some brains in there somewhere, so get using them and get a job! Anything Lance! Shop Assistant, Waiter, Janitor, bloody well anything!"

"You think it's that easy!" Lance returned hotly. "You think I can just turn up somewhere and go 'Hi, I'm Lance, that guy who broke what seems like the world's favourite singer's heart? Can I start Monday?' I'd be lucky to get out of there with all my quills on my back!"

Lance was stood up now and seeing red now, the bottled-up rage built up within him threatening to explode. "Half the world crosses the street to avoid me and the other half to shout abuse or worse! What chance do I have Becky? What fucking chance…" The anger left him, his legs giving way as he slumped back down on the settee.

"Hate to break it sweetheart" Lance continued dejectedly "but no-one's hiring a cheating scumbag, and especially ones whose only accomplishment in his field of choice was managing to strum the guitar without setting it on fire."

Huffing slightly and looking at her watch as if it was worth her time responding to Lance's mini-tirade or whether she should get going to avoid being late. Looking up, Lance saw the determination in her eyes. She wasn't finished.

"Look Lance, I don't want to deal with your self-pitying shit right now. I've got to go to work and it's getting old now. I got shit too, remember? A life that doesn't revolve around the pity show that is Lance Morgan." Lance winced. She only used her last name when she was making a point.

"Rent's not cheap you know" Becky continued, her voice rising in anger "and it's about time you started paying me back. Do you know how much time I've missed going out with friends? Buying things just 'cos I want them? Going to the pictures? Having fun?! It feels like an eternity and I've got a schmuck of a boyfriend who won't try anymore because of a few bad words!"

Becky's paws were trembling with anger and Lance's could barely keep eye contact with her, the shame tasting like bile in his throat.

"Do you realise how I feel? Being with someone I have to mother just to get him to do basic stuff? Jesus Lance, I'm younger than you! I don't need to be doing this shit! I know the world's been unkind to you but whoop-dee-fucking-do! I've not had an easy ride either you know? I've had the abuse, the comments, the looks, but look at me! I've got a job, I've got friends, I've got a life! You, you're just… a fucking embarrassment…"

Becky marched over to the front door, swinging open forcefully and stared out into the empty corridor. She seemed to stand there for an age before, she slowly shook her head. Not looking back to see Lance's face, Becky said quietly, anger still on the edge of her voice. "I don't care what it is you do Lance, just do something. Anything. You can't coup yourself up in here forever. I won't allow it. If you don't, then I'll…" Leaving the sentence unfinished, Becky left, slowly letting the door click shut behind her, leaving Lance with a pained look and cereals starting to go soggy.

#sing 2016 #sing #lance #becky #fanfic #new story #hope you like it #fanfiction #fanfiction.net #ao3 #archive of our own #breaking the surface #chapter 1

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boredsingaporean · 5 years

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Chapter 11: Ghosts and Their Fears

I had just finished my conference call when my MSN Messenger popped out. I had got a message from Dawn. “hi, do u find anything wrong wif Sally today?” Sally was behaving strangely indeed. Usually she would be either talking avidly on the phone or typing stodgily on her notebook with her eyes glued to the screen. But when I turned and looked at her, I found her staring into blank space instead of into the Euromoney magazine that she was holding. I replied Dawn on the MSN Messenger. “yeh, she seems strange today. Why dun u ask her whether she’s ok?” “ok, I’ll msn her” After I finished writing one slide for my presentation, Dawn sent me a message. “hi, I think we better go to her desk” “why?” “she said she had some spiritual encounter last evening” Before I could relate “spiritual encounter” to “ghost”, Dawn, Nicky and Ju had already gathered at Sally’s desk. Dawn had once again proven that her mass communication skill was undisputed and uncontested. “So what exactly happened?” the concerned Ju asked. Sally clasped her hands together nervously and took a deep breath. With a pair of watery eyes, she stared at Rose and said: “I think there was a ghost here in the office last night.” This time round, everybody else around Sally took a deep breath. “Sally, are you sure it was not an illusion?” a wide-eyed Ju asked. “No, I don’t think so,” Sally shook her head. “What did you see?” Nicky asked. “You know, last night I worked late to prepare for the coming Marketing event right? So after all of you went back, I was all alone in the office at eight plus. Then suddenly I heard some papers flipping sound at the other side of the office behind that partition there. I thought some document files fell so I walked over to take a look. But even after I walked all the way to the furthest end of the office, I could not find any document file or paper on the ground. And I didn’t hear the flipping any more as well.” “Maybe you were too tired and you imagined that flipping sound,” suggested Ju. “No, it can’t be! After I walked back to my desk and sat down, that flipping sound started again!” Sally hollered and clasped Ju’s arm. Everybody stood frozen and stared at Sally. “So I tried to call my boyfriend on my mobile phone but there was no signal strength.” ”No signal strength? You kidding me? My mobile phone’s reception here is great!” Nicky blurted. “I’ve never had any reception problem with my mobile phone too, but last night I just couldn’t get any signal strength at all! And you know what? When I tried to use my desk phone to call him, it’s engaged! He has got a waiting line service on his mobile phone but I got an engaged tone!” By then, Ju’s right hand was clasping Sally’s hands which are on Ju’s left hand, and Dawn was clasping Nicky’s sleeve. “I was really very scared, so I packed up and ran out of the office as fast as I could! When I was outside the building, I tried to call my boyfriend again, and I was so happy to hear his voice on the other line!” “And he came over to pick you up?” Ju asked. “Yeh, and when I asked him why his mobile phone was engaged, he said that he was not using the mobile phone, and it didn’t ring at all!” A small pearl of tear rolled down Sally’s left cheek. Her right hand struggled out of Ju’s hand to wipe off the tear quickly. Realizing that they were clasping each other too tightly, Sally and Ju let go of each other. These two ladies were really freaked out. “But I’d ever worked here till nine plus and nothing happened,” said Nicky. “Nicky, you’re different,” I explained. “You’ve got two dragons, one cock and one weird fish surrounding you. Those ghosts are scared of your pets!” “Hey, my Feng Shui animals are not that scary okay? And besides, that’s a dragon carp, not a ‘weird fish’.” “Nicky, do you think the spirits in the office are unhappy because we didn’t have any offerings for them during the seventh month?” Ju asked. The “seventh month” referred to is the seventh month on the Chinese lunar calendar. This month-long period is also known as the “hungry ghost festival” and the Chinese believed that this is when all the dead spirits are released from hell back to the mortal world. On top of offering roast piglets, roast ducks, roast pork, fruits and other festive food stuff, the Chinese will also burn paper monies, paper clothes, paper cars, paper mahjong sets, paper cigarettes and other paper gifts to their dead relatives. The copious paper gifts that are burnt for the dead are really fascinating but confusing. There are paper credit cards. Do these come with free ‘deadtime’ subscription? And if a spirit failed to pay his/her bill, will he/she be declared bankrupt? There are paper DVD players. But where will the DVDs come from? Are we supposed to get some DVDs from HMV and burn them? And here is the best part - paper mobile phones. What if this happens… “Hello Beng, is that you?” “Er… yes, may I know who’s that?” “Beng, it’s me! Your grandfather! How can you forget my voice? I’ve only been dead for five years! You unfilial grandson!” “Er… oh… hi, grandpa! What’s up? How’s life down there?” Perhaps we should learn to think twice before burning anything. “Yeh, you may be right. We didn’t even offer them any joss-sticks,” Nicky mused. “But why will there be any spirit in the office in the first place?” I questioned. “Before you can have a spirit, somebody must die right? So how will anybody die here?” “Hey, you never know!” Nicky disagreed. “Maybe somebody did die working here? Like having a heart attack while flipping through a financial report?” “Or died working too much overtime,” Dawn added. “Why don’t we get an army badge from the army store at Beach Road?” Choi joined in the conversation. “An army badge? What for?” asked Dawn. “Because spirits are scared of it,” Choi explained solemnly. “When I was serving my National Service at Pulau Tekong, my platoon stayed at one of those seven-storey barracks. When we looked out of our room’s windows, there was this unused blank space. Then in the middle of one night, my whole platoon was woken up by the sound of people marching. Initially everybody thought that some unlucky platoon had been punished to march around the block. But when they looked out of the windows, they saw the apparitions of Japanese soldiers marching around that unused blank space and one that looked like the commander even shouted some commands in Japanese!” At that point, Sally, Ju and Dawn screamed. Ju and Sally clasped each other again. “But what has that got to do with the army badge?” I asked. “Oh, before I went to Pulau Tekong for my training, my older friends told me to sleep with my beret beside my pillow, which was why I didn’t wake up to see those Japanese soldiers.” “Are you sure it’s not because you’re too deeply asleep?” Choi folded his arms and stared at me. “Beng, Choi might be right,” Ju sided Choi. “My hubby used to be in the Navy and he swears that the badge worked as well.” “Your husband’s platoon saw some Japanese divers swimming onto the shore?” Dawn asked. “No, they didn’t! But something else happened. At that time when they were staying in, three to four of them shared one room…” “Wow, that’s luxurious! We have more than twelve of us sharing!” Choi protested. “Erm… Choi, my hubby was an officer.” “Oh…” “Anyway, my hubby slept with his officer cap beside his pillow as well and thanks to it, he’s still alive.” Ju took a deep breath before continuing. “Together with two other guys, they had their beds against three walls in the room and the remaining wall was the exit to the balcony…” “What? They even had a balcony?!!” Choi protested again. Ju ignored Choi and continued: “So one night they were sleeping as usual when suddenly my hubby was waken up by somebody shaking his arm. When he opened his blurry eyes, he saw one of his roommates shaking him with one hand, and another hand holding something that looked like a rope. He was telling my hubby to ‘pass the rope’. Immediately, my hubby closed his eyes, turned away from his roommate and started to say prayers. After some time, he could feel his roommate’s hand moving away from his and he didn’t hear his voice anymore. The next morning, my hubby asked this roommate if he remembered the previous night’s incident, and he said that the only thing he remembered was the other roommate waking him up and asking him to pass a rope.” “So what’s the thing about this rope that they’re trying to pass?” I was confused. “My hubby said that one guy actually hung himself to death from the ceiling fan in the middle of that room during training. And tales went around that people sleeping in that room will wake up in the middle of the night to ask his roommate sleeping in the next bed to pass a rope. Once all the guys had passed the rope and the rope made one round in the room, one of them will die. That was how one guy died in that room a few years before my hubby’s platoon stayed there.” Geez, that was one close shave. “Okay, then let’s go get some army badges during lunch time!” said the exhilarated Sally. “Hang on, the army badge might have worked because they were in a military camp,” Nicky analyzed. “But this is an office.” “Then what shall we use?” asked the distraught Sally. Everybody tried to think of something that could scare office spirits. Suggestions poured in like making a pile of unfinished documents, the CEO’s name card, and even a calendar marked full of meetings. Then I thought of something that might really work. “How about a letter that says ‘we regret to inform you that you have been made redundant’?”

#nanowrimo

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coloredgayngels · 7 years

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1-8, 10, 13-17, 19-29, 31-43, 45-63, 65-85, 87-147, 149.

@nonrelativistic said: ALL THE NUMBERS YOU HAVE NOT ALREADY SNWERED MWAHAHAHAJA

i hate u so much

Everything under the cut bc this is gonna be long and you guys are gonna know so much more about me than you probably ever wanted to.

Ask sent on August 4, 2015; Finished answering 42-150 on March 5, 2017. Bolded portion of answers 1-41 is the current answer.

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

I think it was my friend Madison idk Lexy probably

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

I’m relatively outgoing I guess, just introverted. Ambiverted, so it depends on the situation and what I’m doing

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

School starts on Wednesday so I’m looking forward to seeing Selena, Eric, Liam, sparklebattle, and vivid-living-color. We got tech tomorrow, so Lexy, Allison, Brittany, and a few others

4. Are you easy to get along with?

I dunno really. Kinda? Depends on if I like you or not.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

Of course. They’ve said they would before. Most definitely

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

Nerdy and cute, similar to myself, preferably a girl, really nice but not afraid to speak her mind. Always ready to hit a dude. So basically I want Charlie Bradbury. This still reigns true but also Anna Kendrick or Rey

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

Probably not. Well I sure hope so.

8. Who from the opposite another gender is on your mind?

Quite a few boys actually, a girl or two, and one other (I’m nb so there is no “opposite”, not that there is in the first place). I’m not naming names for reasons. Um, Kai, Vine, someone else

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

A bit

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

I think it was probably spoopycena but I don’t remember it well Kai ?? I think ???? @unlxckiest

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

“Carl said yesterday 9:30”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

How Far I’ll Go - Moana/Auli’i CravalhoIcarus (Born on Wings of Steel) - KansasSeven Nation Army - Melanie Martinez Voice PerformanceFreaks (ft. Savage) - Timmy TrumpetHow Far We’ve Come - Matchbox Twenty

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

Only if they have permission first, but absolutely Heck yeah

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

I don’t know. If anything like that has happened to me, I wouldn’t know. A little bit

15. What good thing happened this summer?

Good things have happened? I suppose. I got to do VBS with a bunch of my friends, went on retreat with the greatest group of people (including said friends), and then spent nearly 12 hours with that same group on Sunday, so those were all really good. I also changed my name twice and I feel good about that. There was a lot of stuff but all in all it wasn’t really great (i dont remember lmao)

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

404 Answer Not Found

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

I wouldn’t doubt it. space mermaids on jupiter

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

19. Do you like bubble baths?

Yeah. Don’t ever take them tho

20. Do you like your neighbors?

John’s cool, I don’t know the other people, the girls across the street are adorable. Heck yeah

21. What are your bad habits?

I bite my lip when scared/nervous, I scratch at my wrists a lot, I stick out my tongue when focused. I pull my hair when anxious or angry, I click my pens, I tap my fingers and bounce my leg

22. Where would you like to travel?

Anywhere really.

23. Do you have trust issues?

Define trust issues, because I’m 95-100% open to a few people but then 0-5% with other despite how close we may be.

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

Leaving the house, on a good day (school year)

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

My stomach and my chest

26. What do you do when you wake up?

When I don’t have anywhere to be, I hit snooze, sleep a few hours and then do social media rounds. On school days, I sit up right away so I don’t fall back asleep, do a quick check of emails, facebook messages, and instagram, and then get up. After five alarms, I check Q, delete other notifications, get dressed, and leave the house

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

This is a lil bit of a dangerous question, bc I’m already pale af, but I like it the way it is. Skin color is beautiful no matter what shade it is and nobody should feel the need to change it. A little darker

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

Like, talking, it’s nonrelativistic, shampoovevo, and probably insanity-universe but since they all live a bajillion miles away, I’m presence-wise most comfortable around Liam and Selena. HA @ all of those. Brittany, Allison, Ms. Taylor, Kai, Vine, Basil, KR, Riley, Dawn

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

In a way, yes, I suppose. Both will absolutely see this, so I’m a lil afraid to give a definitive answer.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Heck yeah

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail?

It is, thankfully, but that’s about the limit of what it can do. I cut it from mid-back to my collarbone in January, and now it’s around the top of my chest. I do regret that cut tho… It’s long again !!! It’s up right now, and I love it

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

I could go on, but I’ll stick with Brendon and Sarah Urie for now. Anna Kendrick and Daisy Ridley

33. Spell your name with your chin.

jesus christ my entire family is in here teagan did i mention i hate you Once again, my mother and grandmother are in the room fuck

jhasmnerswa (James) jascer (Jace)

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

To quote Patrick Stump, “I don’t sport.”

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

TV. I hardly watch it anyway. Besides, it’s all on Netflix anyway.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

All the time these last few years. holy shit

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

Nothing if I can help it.

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

See #6 above.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

I don’t really have favorite stores…. i go to target a lot does that count

40. What do you want to do after high school?

No idea tbh, but kinda-ish. I want to work with kids but not teach. I’m headed to college for ECE in the fall so uh, this answer has changed a bunch

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

I believe in second chances based on initial insult. I’m pretty forgiving, but do something bad enough and I won’t let you have that second chance (or third or seventeenth in one case).

42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean?

I’m probably zoned out, anxious, depressed, dissociating, thinking, or angry. Either way, don’t talk to me.

43. Do you smile at strangers?

Yes, albeit awkwardly.

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

Jesus Christ neither

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

I’m not sure actually

46. What are you paranoid about?

Being murdered, being broken up with, adulthood, financial stability, failing school, being too anxious to teach

47. Have you ever been high?

Nope

48. Have you ever been drunk?

See #47

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

I don’t think so?

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

Grey

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

Quite often

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

My body

53. Favourite makeup brand?

lol

54. Favourite store?

See #39

55. Favourite blog?

@kaikev

56. Favourite colour?

Blue!

57. Favourite food?

Lo Mein with orange chicken

58. Last thing you ate?

Part of a vanilla frosted long john donut

59. First thing you ate this morning?

Jelly donut wholes

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

I’ve won a couple Kahoots…. (Disney, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, Africa)

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

I punched a kid in the stomach in the fourth grade and got suspended for three days

62. Been arrested? For what?

Nope, nothing

63. Ever been in love?

A few times

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

See #16

65. Are you hungry right now?

Not particularly? I might grab some leftover lo mein soon tho

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

Nah, I don’t have really any tumblr friends with the exception of Elaina

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Twitter hands down

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Both? I go on both equally

69. Are you watching tv right now?

Yupper, watching Worst Cooks in America

70. Names of your bestfriends?

Elliot, Allison, Kai, Vine, Riley, Basil

71. Craving something? What?

Lo Mein

72. What colour are your towels?

I use a white one with blue rain drops and a yellow duck for my hair, and my other is either blue, tan, or grey depending on what’s clean

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

*quietly counts* 12

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

Yep

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

Oh boy, 20-ish

75. Favourite animal?

Dogs

76. What colour is your underwear?

Pale pink

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Chocolate

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

Strawberry

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

Katniss Everdeen green

80. What colour pants?

Brown

81. Favourite tv show?

The 100 or Timeless

82. Favourite movie?

Captain America: Civil War, Captain America: Winter Soldier, or Moana

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Mean Girls

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

See #83

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

Janis Ian

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

Crush

87. First person you talked to today?

My grandma

88. Last person you talked to today?

My grandma

89. Name a person you hate?

matt delli

90. Name a person you love?

Kai

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

Matt Delli or like Selena

92. In a fight with someone?

Nahh

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

Six or Seven

95. Last movie you watched?

Finding Dory

96. Favourite actress?

Daisy Ridley or Anna Kendrick

97. Favourite actor?

Jensen Ackles or Bob Morley

98. Do you tan a lot?

lmao

99. Have any pets?

We have two betta fish, a frog, a leopard gecko, two cats, and a dog

100. How are you feeling?

Nothing

101. Do you type fast?

Yeah

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

y e a h

103. Can you spell well?

Yupper

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

Yes

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

A few

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

Yeah

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

Yes. Never again.

108. What should you be doing?

An English project

109. Is something irritating you right now?

My mom’s presence

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

christ almighty yes

111. Do you have trust issues?

See #23

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

Allison

113. What was your childhood nickname?

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

Yes! I’ve gone to or driven through Washington state, California, Wyoming, Colorado, Arizona, South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, Texas, Iowa, Missouri, Wisconsin, Illinois (live here), Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, Michigan, West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Pennsylvania, Maryland, New York, Mexico, and Haiti.

115. Do you play the Wii?

I used to

116. Are you listening to music right now?

Unfortunately no

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

Yes!

118. Do you like Chinese food?

It’s my favorite

119. Favourite book?

Oh jeez this is a hard one. Probably Blood of Olympus or Deathly Hallows

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

Holy shit. Deathly.

121. Are you mean?

Yeah

122. Is cheating ever okay?

On a test in a boring class off a friend who may or may not be helping you? Maybe. On a person, ever? Never.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

Nope

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Kind of

125. Do you believe in true love?

126. Are you currently bored?

A little bit

127. What makes you happy?

Kai, reading, writing, music, Chipotle, Starbucks, The 100, Timeless, Rey

128. Would you change your name?

I already have multiple times, but right now, no, I’m content.

129. What your zodiac sign?

Cancer

130. Do you like subway?

Yeah

131. Your best friend of the opposite sex another gender likes you, what do you do?

I’m in a relationship, but we can remain friends

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

See #10

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

"I'd die for you," that's easy to sayWe have a list of people that we would takeA bullet for them, a bullet for youA bullet for everybody in this roomBut I don't seem to see many bullets coming throughSee many bullets coming throughMetaphorically, I'm the manBut literally, I don't know what I'd do"I'd live for you," and that's hard to doEven harder to say when you know it's not trueEven harder to write when you know that tonightThere were people back home who tried talking to youBut then you ignored them stillAll these questions they're for realLike "Who would you live for?","Who would you die for?"And "Would you ever kill?"

-Ride, Twenty One Pilots

134. Can you count to one million?

I could but I’m not gonna

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

I lie about taking food all the time

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

Closed and locked

137. How tall are you?

5′6

138. Curly or Straight hair?

(treating 138-139 as preferences) Curly

139. Brunette or Blonde?

Blonde

140. Summer or Winter?

Winter

141. Night or Day?

Night

142. Favourite month?

September

143. Are you a vegetarian?

Been there, done that, didn’t agree with me

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

Dark or milk

145. Tea or Coffee?

Coffee

146. Was today a good day?

Meh

147. Mars or Snickers?

Mars

148. What’s your favourite quote?

“Stay afraid. Do it anyway. What’s important is this action. You don’t have to be confident. Just do it, and eventually the confidence will follow.” -Carrie Fisher

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

Somewhat

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“Circe,” (From my journal)

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