#will poulter angst

[greenorangevioletgrass]

give me a minute (1/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: established former relationship, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, discussions of separation and divorce, luca and reader has a son, unresolved sexual tension 👀 notes: this fic has been the bane of my existence for the last couple of months or so. it all started as a simple thought of "ooh it would be fun to have a steamy smut with ex!luca" and then it turns into a whole thing with like proper angst and stuff lol. this will be split into two parts, and i think i need encouragement to finish the second part. so please enjoy this first part and tell me what you think! ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted of my latest fics! ✨

03:49 PM

Everything is fine, you keep telling yourself.

Your soon-to-be ex-husband is flying in from Denmark to finalize the divorce—and even after two years of exhaustive paperwork and mediations and court proceedings, you still don’t know how to feel about this. His visit to New York is meant to be a consolation prize for your six-year-old son Alfie, whose only facetime with his dad lately is through… well, FaceTime. But, given how extraordinarily difficult he’s being—fussing over his breakfast, stalling shower time by a record of 48 minutes, refusing to wear anything you picked out for him… you have an inkling that he might be a little nervous to see his father.

And to make matters worse, it’s raining cats and dogs outside, which delays Luca by two hours now and actively threatens the zoo outing he has planned out for him and Alfie.

So… despite the shitstorm that is happening in your apartment and out, you keep telling yourself that everything is fine.

Because it is. Your home is tidy enough, with all the toys and the mess tucked away in their little cubbies. Your son is dressed up enough; he’s finally put on his pants and shirt, although you missed a button and he won’t let you fix it. The storm is outside, and you’re safely sheltered in. And your relationship with your ex is civil enough, so you feel…

Fine enough.

But the doorman buzzes in, and you can definitely tell the awkwardness in his voice. “Afternoon, Ma’am. I have your husband— I mean, Chef Luca— I mean Mr. Bailey—”

You sigh, not having the energy to let this go on. “Yeah, yeah. Send him up.”

Alfie looks up from his coloring book and practically jumps out of the couch. “My tummy hurts, I’m gonna make a doodie!”

“No running!” You remind him just a second too late, watching him dash over to the bathroom and slamming the door closed. He has a nervous stomach just like you, and as you feel the icky twist in your gut… you can’t help but empathize with his antics today. You would be fucking shit up too, if you only could.

There’s a knock at the door, and you brace yourself as if you’re about to let the storm itself in (although, quite frankly, you probably are). Your hand feels clammy, and you have to wipe it off on your dress before you unlock the door and turn the knob.

“Hey.”

If the storm was a person, you wouldn’t have associated it with the man standing before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With boyish features and dark blond locks like gentle daylight. It feels like a reach to imagine the seven years of your relationship with him was, indeed, an epic fucking hurricane.

Still. 

You can’t help that you miss him.

“Come on in.” You step aside, not really meeting his gaze.

He murmurs a small thanks and apology, a staple combination in Luca’s British vernacular, as he squeezes in through the door with his duffel bag and suitcase.

“I thought you’d dropped these off at your hotel before you came here.”

“I know. I was going to, but…” he puts down his bags close to the jacket closet, like he always does, “But I got held up for ages and traffic was awful and I didn’t want Alfie to wait even longer, so…”

“Right.” You nod absently. “Well. He’s in the bathroom, should be out in a second, so… have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Um, water’s fine.” He takes his seat on the dining table.

You’re not sure which one is more jarring; the sheer familiarity of this, or the fact that it isn’t anymore. The two of you just hovering in the home you used to share, courteous but distant.

Luca looks around the place, and notices all the differences right away. You kept the glass dining table and two of the chairs, but changed the corner seating into a plush dining bench against the kitchen island. He recognizes Alfie’s favorite stuffed bunny on the couch, although the throw pillows were new. But he takes one look at the wall… and his heart drops.

Gone are any traces of him in the snapshots of your life. The pictures are all of you and Alfie—eating ice cream in the park, grinning and showing his first lost tooth, dressed up on Halloween… He really shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed to find the wedding portrait gone, or the vacation selfie in Italy four years ago. But it hurts quite a bit to find a generic flower portrait replacing the picture of him kissing you on the forehead while Alfie, laying on your chest, merely hours after his birth.

“Yeah, I…” you clear your throat as you hand him the glass of water, “…did some redecorating.”

“It looks good.” He manages a stiff nod, taking a hesitant swig of water.

“You look…” good, you want to say. Because he is. He’s got that tan and the haircut that reminds you of when you first met him years ago. But you can’t say that. So you settle with, “You look well.”

He meets your eyes, really meets your eyes for the first time, and you try to convince yourself the little flutter you feel inside is just your nervous stomach. But he smiles, soft and earnest. “So do you.”

You turn back and open the fridge, welcoming the cold air and how it cools down the burning warmth on your cheeks. Trying not to freak out and decide what you’re getting, so you don’t look like an idiot. Your hand grabs a can of ginger ale, and you sigh in relief.

“How’s Alfie doing in school?”

“He’s doing alright. He’s enjoying his art classes. Math is still a struggle, but Ms. Rashad says his reading is quite advanced for his age.” You relax a little bit into the conversation. The topic of your son resets you a little bit into a somewhat common ground as co-parents. Plain and simple.

“Definitely takes after you. My dyslexic ass could never.”

You smile at that. Small jokes are still there, always a good sign.

“And the, uh…” he lowers his voice, “the anxiety?”

“Comes and goes. He’s been complaining about a stomach ache all day.” You glance towards the bathroom.

He frowns in concern. “Should we go check on him?”

“Sure…” You walk together with Luca following suit, tentatively knocking at the door. “Alfie? Hey bub, how’s your doodie?” It sounds silly, but you find it helps to ask open questions instead of showing your worries outright.

A flush from inside. “There’s no doodie,” he hollers. His voice is murmured from the barrier, and then the running tap water.

You catch the unease in Luca’s features, and you feel a little bad for him. It wouldn’t feel great that your own son is nervous to see you after many months apart. “You wanna come out, then? Your dad’s here.” You try to sound cheerful and upbeat, hoping it’ll hype them both up.

The two-second gap never felt so long. But the door opens, and there he is, standing meekly against the frame. Staring up at you and then at Luca.

Luca’s heart nearly stops as those big doe eyes stare up at him, a spitting image of you. The same softness. The same spark of stubbornness.

The same vulnerable look.

“Hey, bub.”

“Hi.”

“Can I get a hug?”

There’s a brief pause, before he steps forward and throws his arms around his father’s middle. Luca grunts softly, a little surprised by the sheer force Alfie is hugging him, his heart swelling three times over.

“Oh my God, look at you!” He ruffles the boy’s dark hair and kneels down to level with him. His cherubic face is small cupped in his large hand, but not as small as Luca remembered it. “You’re so tall now!”

“Of course. I’m 3 feet and 8 inches tall now. Right, Mommy?” He proudly announces, getting the exact height completely memorized.

“That’s right,” you confirm with a grin. 

Luca gasps, a smile blooming on his face. “What?”

Alfie nods. “I’m gonna be as tall as you.”

“No! Don’t grow up so fast!” He playfully cries out.

“Why?”

“Because I won’t get to do this anymore!” Luca seizes his boy into his arms and sweeps him off of his bunny-socked feet, sending Alfie into a fit of hysterical giggles.

The sight makes you chuckle, but the feeling could bring Luca to happy tears. He’s been gone for so long, he’s afraid he’d forget how it feels to hold his son in his arms again. Or worse, that his son would find his presence alien.

But he’s here now. With you and the son you share. Attacking Alfie in tickles and noisy kisses, and letting the boy climb him like monkey bars. And it calms his anxious heart a bit as he reminds himself, everything’s fine. 

And as things fall back into place, thunder crashes outside, as if sobering all of you back into reality. Alfie shirks into himself, climbing off of his father’s back. You want to reach out for him so badly, but at the same time, not wanting to interrupt his bonding time with his dad.

“It’s okay, bub. It’s just thunderclap,” Luca soothes emphatically over the sudden silence, bringing Alfie back down to his feet. He smooths his son’s hair gently, comfortingly. “I got you, I got you…”

“Do animals even come out in the rain?” Alfie is back to his withdrawn self, mumbling his words and avoiding Luca’s gaze.

“Some animals actually love playing in the rain,” you chime in helpfully.

Luca keeps his tone cheerful and bright. “Yeah, and you can wear your raincoat and your wellies and I’ll even let you jump in puddles—”

“I don’t wanna do that! I wanna stay home!” He whines, voice raising a little.

“It’s your dad’s time—”

“No!”

“Alfie.” Your tone is firmer now, as he struggles out of his father’s arms and runs to his favorite corner of the couch in the living room, holding his stuffed bunny tight. 

But Alfie’s got a point. This is not the kind of rain where you can take a leisurely stroll in. No, this is the kind where you stay huddled inside and hope it doesn’t flood the streets. Luca takes a thoughtful look at Alfie who is sulking and shrinking from the sound of thunder, at the window completely obscured from rain, and then at you… offering an apologetic smile.

So much for quality time with his son. 

Luca’s heart sinks a little. He sighs in defeat. “Maybe we should just wait it out…”

“Are you sure? I mean, you flew 9 hours to see him—“

“And I don’t want him to be pissed at me the whole time we’re hanging out,” he reasons. “Besides, I don’t think any Uber would take our order at this time.”

It makes sense, you think. As much as you want this awkward little broken family dance to end, you know that staying in and waiting it out is the best option. Alfie would feel much more comfortable at home than in whatever hotel Luca is staying in. And maybe it’s your protective side talking, but if he ever gets fussy, you’d prefer to be around to deal with it.

“Alright, fine.”

“Yeah? Is that okay with you?”

You shrug. The truth is a little more complicated, but ultimately you settle with a simple, “yes.”

Alfie takes a quick glance at you and Luca emerging from the hallway (you have your mother’s side eye, Luca always said), before returning to fiddling his stuffed bunny’s ears (your father’s neutral look of disapproval, you would say). Like clockwork, Luca takes the seat next to Alfie, while you take the puffy stool in front of him.

“That wasn’t very nice of you to raise your voice at me and your dad like that. I get that you’re nervous about the weather—a bit startled, too— but still. We don’t raise our voices in this household.”

Alfie looks at you and Luca. “I’m sorry.”

Luca nods in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry for being late, buddy.” He gingerly reaches out to touch the boy’s hand. “You’re right, though. It might be best to stay in for a bit.” He motions at the rain hammering down on the window outside.

“I told you. I wanna stay at home.”

“I know. And we are for now. We can…” Luca scans around for something to do. His eyes fall on the coloring book and the open box of color pencils next to it. Bingo! “We can… color some drawings in that book?”

He pouts, not entirely sold on the idea but not outright refusing it either. 

“Or, hey, I got some new drawings on me. You can color them, too.” Luca takes off his hoodie and shows off the tattoos on his arms.

God, you forgot about the plethora of trashy tattoos adorning his skin. Even worse, you forgot how it highlights the defined curves of his biceps. Focus, for fuck’s sake! You avert your gaze towards the flower portrait on the wall. 

Alfie perks up a little. “This is my old drawing.” His tiny finger pokes at his forearm, on a tattoo of a stick figure climbing up the stairs. “You still have it?”

“Of course. It’s there forever. I’ll always have it.” Luca finds himself choking up at that simple admission. A little token of childhood of his ever-growing love. “Go on, get your crayons.”

Alfie looks at you as if seeking permission, and it makes you want to laugh that he shares the same animated eyebrows as his father. 

“Go ahead, bub,” you usher him off lightly, and as soon as he’s out of sight, nods at your ex. “Good save.”

Luca half-smiles. “Thanks. You should chill out. Read a book, take a nap or something. I got him.”

“What, are you trying to kick me out?”

“No, I just—”

Your smile breaks out. “I’m kidding! Go hang out with Alf. I got a Zoom meeting in a few minutes anyway.”

He sighs in relief, chuckling lightly. “You almost got me there…”

You briefly pat his shoulder and for an even briefer moment, his hand is atop yours. The big ‘A’ tattoo on the back of his hand—your son’s initial in a bold Gothic letter— serves as a reminder of what’s past; a whirlwind romance, the wild days of being a family of a merry band of misfits…

Misfits. That’s the biggest takeaway here, you suppose. Your pieces don’t quite fit right. Not without little Alfie gluing you together. 

With a final squeeze on Luca’s shoulder, you make your way to your bedroom, making space for Luca’s puzzle pieces to fit with Alfie’s because they don’t fit yours anymore.

***

05:04 PM

By the time your Zoom meeting ends, the pelting rain outside is louder and the chatter inside is nearly inaudible. It feels nice for about ten seconds… until you remember that you have a six-year-old at home and long bouts of silence can be quite… well, suspicious. You pad out into the hallway to check on him.

“Let’s see. You wanna do the sunflower next? What do you think, my love?”

Oh right. For a moment, you forgot that the thirty-year-old other parent is here with him.

Luca has his t-shirt sleeves hiked all the way up, biceps in full display as Alfie colors in a tattoo on the back part of his upper arm. The boy’s tongue sticks out and his eyebrows furrow in focus. It seems like a delicate operation between them, so you linger out of sight for just a while longer.

“Why do you like sunflowers, Dad?”

The two of you have always supported his inquisitive mind, and he missed these kinds of questions most of all. Even if the answers can be a little complicated. “Because of your mum, actually.”

“You like it because Mommy likes it?” Alfie’s little nose crinkles.

Luca chuckles in amusement, sensing the judgment in his son’s tone. Damn you guys for teaching Alfie not to get carried away by trends. “Well… when your mum and I first met, it was winter in Chicago and it’s pretty bleak and gloomy and freezing. But, your mum had a little sunflower by the window—just like that one.” He glances at the little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “She said it’s a reminder to let the sun shine in. I thought it was adorable. We started doing that everywhere we lived and… I don’t know, it reminds me of home.”

“Do you have a sunflower by your window, Dad?”

His heart catches as he realizes the answer. “No, I don’t…”

“Why? You don’t miss home?”

There’s a sharp pang of hurt in hearing that innocent query. The apartment in Copenhagen, as nice as it is, has never been much of a home for Luca. He would get up before the sun is up and return from work late at night—lather, rinse and repeat. On his days off, he would either go on a morning run and spend much of his time outside, or sleep til noon and live on instant ramen and takeout. There’s no time for a sunflower by the window. No room. He made sure of that.

He doesn’t deserve one after leaving his wife and son for fucking Noma. 

Luca swallows back the lump in his throat, although the slight waver in his voice gives him away. “I got my sunflower right here, bub. My little piece of home.” He taps on his arm softly as his son finishes up. 

Alfie hums, pleased with how the tattoo looks, now filled in with yellow and black and brown crayons. “I think this is my favorite one.”

“Yeah? Not the tabasco?” Luca grins, looking down at his forearm—specifically at the mostly accurate red and green of the hot sauce bottle.

“No…” Alfie taps his chin with his finger thoughtfully. “This one is prettier.”

Luca maneuvers around to look at the sunflower tattoo a little better. “You’re right, it is much prettier. Maybe I should get the colors in permanently, huh?”

The boy’s face lights up. “Can you?”

“Yeah. I think I will. Nice job, my little tattoo artist.” Luca pulls him into a bear hug and kisses the top of Alfie’s head. 

You can’t help but chuckle, glad to see them bonding again, lost in your thoughts for a moment.

“Mommy! Dad says I can be a tattoo artist!” Alfie snaps you out of your reverie.

“Is that right?” Your eyebrows shoot up, struggling to maintain a neutral expression while staring at Luca like with all due respect, what the fuck?

He raises his hands in surrender. “I just said he’s my little tattoo artist, that’s all.”

“I colored in all of Dad’s tattoos! Look!” Alfie tugs at his dad’s arm, beaming as he shows off his work.

You step forward, studying the results of the tattoo makeover. Every single tattoo is colored in; some accurately, like the sunflower and tabasco, while others (like the purple fish and chips and blue scotch bonnet)… not so much. You don’t know which one’s more amusing; your son’s artistic style, or your ex’s bashful look as he models the art works on his arms. 

“Looks great, bub. Well done!” You ruffle Alfie’s hair, enjoying his improved mood.

“Can I watch Bluey now?”

You purse your lips comically. “I don’t know, bub. Why don’t you look at your checklist on the fridge and see if you can?”

Alfie bounds past you, towards the fridge, and reads the checklist out loud to himself. “Have you… brushed your teeth? Yes. Brushed your hair? Yes…” He flattens his wavy locks with the palm of his hand, continues reading with a lower murmur. “Mommy, I did everything except tidy up my room and play outside for 30 minutes!”

“Okay. Obviously we can’t play outside, so… why don’t you just go clean your room and I’ll let you watch Bluey for a bit?”

Alfie gamely nods and goes into his bedroom, his bunny socks muting his footsteps against the hardwood floor.

Meanwhile, it takes you an extra beat to realize how close you’re standing with Luca without your child between you. He rolls down the sleeves of his black t-shirt sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Your meeting went okay?”

“It’s alright.” You look at literally anything but the man in front of you, ultimately stopping at your potted sunflower by the windowsill. “That storm out there, on the other hand…”

“Yeah…”

You take an inconspicuous look at the hallway, making sure your son is out of earshot. “Weather reports say it might last a few more hours.”

Luca huffs, trying not to stress out about the possibility of street floods. Of all the things he missed, New York thunderstorms are not one of them. Still, this shitty weather has granted him some time with his son, at his former home… with his former spouse. And God, does he miss this more than he dreads the weather…

“Want me to make you guys dinner?” He offers earnestly.

You pull back, returning to your normal volume. “Oh. No, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. Really. Might as well, right?”

You hear heavy footsteps from the bedroom and Alfie hollers from the hallway. “I’m all done!”

“Don’t forget your crayons!”

Alfie promptly makes a beeline towards his leftover mess. “Heard, Mommy.” He hurriedly puts his crayons back in the box and rushes into his room to put it away. Returning mere moments later with a newfound spring in his steps. “I’m done for real! Now can I please watch Bluey now?”

“I can cook while he gets his screen time.”

The two boys look at you with their best puppy eyes, and it’s the most disarming thing you’ve seen in a while—and the resemblance between them only makes things worse. You playfully roll your eyes in relent. “Alright, alright. Go ahead. Watch your TV and make your dinner.”

There’s a quiet little yesss from Alfie as Luca low-fives him before they scatter, one to the living room and the other to the kitchen. For a moment, you feel like you were transported back in time. For the first time in over two years, you’re caught between cartoon sounds from the TV and the kitchen alive again. All was well in the household. 

“Is he still a picky eater?” Luca mouths the last two words inaudibly.

You raise your eyebrows in confirmation. “All he wants to eat is chicken nuggies.”

“I can do chicken nuggies,” he shrugs easily, rummaging through the freezer and takes out a pack of chicken breasts. “Or some version of that.”

Upon overhearing the key word, Alfie’s head all but whips toward Luca. “We’re having chicken nuggies for dinner?”

“Er, kind of.”

“Can I help?” He perks up from the back of the couch, excitement bubbling over.

Luca smiles apologetically. “Maybe later, my love. Daddy’s gonna be using a big knife…” he says as he checks the blade closely, swiping it with his thumb. “…which is dull, by the way. When was the last time you sharpened this?”

“I… have no idea.” You frown. You don’t even remember sharpening any knives… ever. Meanwhile, Luca simply rummages through the kitchen drawer, which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”

“I’m sharpening it,” he states matter-of-factly, already setting up a makeshift sharpening station which… what?

“Didn’t even know we had that,” you murmur plainly as you watch him work. Taking out a block of whetstone from the drawer (where did that even come from?) and running it under the sink. Laying out a kitchen rag and the stone on top of it.

He chuckles a little, scraping the blade against the stone at an angle, firmly but carefully. “Can’t leave you good Santoku knives without the proper sharpening tools, right?”

“You never taught me how to do it, though.”

“Yes, I have.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“What are you talking about? Back in Chicago, I—”

You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that was one time forever ago! And you never let me sharpen the knives. You literally always do it.”

He pauses, grinning bashfully. “Fair…”

For the umpteenth time that day, Luca’s heart catches—this time from hearing you laugh. Your warm voice rings so pleasantly in his ears, and the way your face lights up… he almost forgets there’s a storm outside, because he’s got a lovely summer day right here in front of him.

And honestly, what is beautiful sunny Copenhagen compared to this warmth of the two people he loves the most?

“Alright, alright. You want a refresher? Come here.”

You gingerly take the place next to him, arms crossed so as to not invade his space. Neither of you say anything when your shoulders brush against each other. It’s brief, painstakingly so, but eerily familiar. You wouldn’t admit that you want to stay pressed against him a little longer, but… you do.

“Okay, so. You see this bit right here?” His finger runs up the line where the blade flattens into the edge. “Rest the knife on the stone on this angle, start from the heel—near the handle— and just… bring it in,” he demonstrates the inward sliding motion—short and precise and repetitive, “and work your way up to the tip.”

You silently watch him work for a moment, handling the knife. Firm and steady, but not harsh. On the contrary, it’s almost… delicate. You’ve seen many chefs work in your lifetime, but no one is as composed or stoic (or handsome, but that is beside the point) as Luca. It’s quite fascinating. 

“And you do this on both sides, right?” You vaguely recall.

“Good memory.” He nods appreciatively. “Some people like to do each side one at a time, back and forth, but I like to do one side, get that burr forming…”

“What’s a burr, sir?”

Luca chuckles at your little Hamilton reference. “So when you work on this side, you’ll feel a nice little rough bit forming on the other side like this.” He slides his thumb from the knife’s spine to the edge and carefully guides your hand through the motion. “Feel that?“

Yes. That should be an easy enough answer, because yes, you do feel the rough edge of the excess metal on the blade. But it’s a bit hard to focus on that when you’re more fixated on the rough calluses of his fingertips instead…

In theory, playing a knife with your almost ex-husband is as bad as a bad idea can get. In practice, though… Having your hand in his again, feeling him so close to you, smelling his perfume…

“That’s the burr. Once you get it on one side, you can switch over to the other side and balance it out.” His voice is lower now. Softer. “And you just… do it over and over again until you’ve worked off the burr and have a smooth and sharp blade.”

Luca switches the knife to your other hand and stands behind you, hoping to God you can’t feel his pounding heart as his chest presses against your back. Gently guiding you through the sharpening motion—the firm, steady, angled scraping of the blade towards you. You swear to God, every pull brings him just a tad closer.

“So you basically have to break the knife a little to fix it?” 

“That’s basically it, yeah.”

The storm feels miles away. His hands are still curled against yours. His chest flush against your back. His body heat emanates from within him and shrouds you like your favorite cardigan.

“Listen, I—”

“Thanks… for the refresher.” And with that, you put the knife down on the kitchen rag and pull away.

It takes him an extra second to snap out of it and step back to make way for you as you retreat back into your bedroom. “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck your fucking life to hell.

***

if you've reached the end of this page, thank you so much for reading! do tell me what you think, reblog, send me asks, thoughts, ANYTHING. i would LOVE to hear your opinion!!!

#will poulter #chef luca #luca the bear #the bear fx #chef luca x reader #luca x reader #chef luca x ex-wife!reader #chef luca fic #chef luca smut #will poulter fic #will poulter fluff #will poulter angst #will poulter smut #ava writes

[cr8zyy]

will poulter would give the most bombastic side eye ever . . .

#will poulter #tmr gally #tmr #tmr cast #will poulter x reader #will poulter angst #will poulter smut #will poulter fluff #my post #side eye #bombastic side eye #ramble #might delete later

[ay0nha]

Boiling Point | Chef Luca (Prologue)

(working) SUMMARY: A well- known food critic is retiring. Apart of this condition is that you continue writing on his behalf as if he hadn’t. To show you the ropes, he implores Luca to teach you what it takes to enter the culinary world.

There he was. His pristine white jacket contrasted perfectly against the warm ambiance of the evening. The distance was covered within a few long strides and once at the table, his charmed smile made you nauseous. He played his part better than you had that night

PAIRING: Chef!Luca x f!reader (food journalist/critic)

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

WARNINGS: smoking, drinking, canon-typical things, future enemies to lovers sort of, mutual pining, inspiration from Kitchen Confidential and the movie Boiling Point, etc.

A/N: Just a little sneak peek/intro to this request. Might do a short series (three/four parts)...stay tuned. It’s a little choppy at the moment, so I hope it makes sense. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged. Comments are always appreciated! Enjoy.

Deep breaths helped.

The nicotine’s warmth sparked excitement in your veins. It made a tedious night seem just bearable with each inhale. You eyed the falling ash as if it were tea leaves promising your near future. Yet, when your eyes surveyed the crowd within the restaurant, it cemented the dull company you’d join.

Excusing yourself was easy. Slipping away wasn’t the issue; it was expected as the call for a cigarette completed your image. The cliché of it made your mouth pucker with your final drag.

“There you are...” A hand settled on your shoulder. Ryan. “They’re ordering another bottle as we speak.” Lighting her own cigarette, she cursed. “We better fucking land this deal—I’m about to max out the company card.”

Flicking your roach under the point of your heel, you scoffed, “Please, if I have to hear that man say heavenly one more time, I’ll—

“You’ll smile.” She reminded you. It was an instruction, really. “Nod your head, agree with anything—Everything.”

“He said supposebly.” You tutted. “I can’t take him seriously.”

“He’s ancient. Cut him some slack!” She laughed. Charm came second nature to Ryan; you weren’t convinced she even knew its effect on people. “He’s sweet on you.”

“Right…” You tried to make out the stars, but the light pollution fought against you. “So, what? I marry him for the life insurance?”

“Let’s just make it through dessert,” Ryan spoke definitively, always cutting through. Yet, room always remained to entertain you. “Then we can talk wedding plans.”

The man that waited for you was Avery Sinclair—world-renowned something. You had listened, but the information had already left you. Those around you, though, knew who sat across from you well. They were almost as good as you hiding their discomfort. Eyes were always on him, knowing his thoughts before he could form them. New forks were laid after the slightest touch, napkin splayed on his lap before he could lift it himself, and every meal came with the chef that made it.

He was respected.

Yet, all you saw was his brittle and thin mustache, sitting upon his lip like forgotten food. The comb-over was just as wirey and pulled kindness to his cheeks. They flushed now as he flirted with another glass of wine.

“There you are!” He bubbled. With a wave of his hand, your diligent waitress returned with the Italian bottle. “I ordered the oak-aged white. It has a buttery note that is just heavenly with the gelée.”

You smiled.

“I cannot believe our night is coming to an end.” Ryan charmed. She held her nose to the glass, listening intently as Mr. Sinclair explained each technique to her. The slurping was a bit much.

“My dear, this is just a start.” The deal was confirmed with those words alone. A part of you wished the promise had a false bottom. “We can draft up something agreeable, I’m sure?”

He looked at you. You had that feeling like you’d forgotten to walk. Each step felt forced and off. You played off your misstep cleverly, your glass raising to the center, “I look forward to working together.”

Ryan was impressed, pride swelling in her chest. She and you were an unmistakable duo. Angel and devil. Thelma and Louise. Introvert and extrovert.  Fill in any this and that, and there you two were. Most importantly, she was the publicist, and you were the writer.

“Under one condition…” Mr. Sinclair smiled, far too tickled by your toast. He leaned in, elbows brushing the circular table. “Do you know why I chose this place tonight?”

You hadn’t expected the question. Your answer came out blunt. “Favoritism.”

“You’re sharp.” He smiled broadly, wagging his manicured finger at you. “Exactly that. Look around you…”

You took a genuine moment.  The perception of fine dining was all theatrics. It was a large show that ran every night of the week. Even those who dined were an unassuming audience. Those swiveling doors may as well be the curtain line to backstage. The kitchen, the dressing room. The dripping alleyway, the green room.

You were all too aware of the communication chain. The insults were coded frustrations that later into the service would be water under the bridge. There was a reason for everyone being here just as you were.

“We’re all cut from the same cloth. You, me, dear Ryan.” Mr. Sinclair smiled at her. “We all express our passions differently, but we love just the same.”

He felt content. His body relaxed with his decision to hire you. Sinclair could see how you hadn’t quite trusted yourself with the responsibility that he was putting on your shoulders. But he was confident you’d grow into it perfectly.

“I hope you understand the reasons for my poetics—” The rumors and gossip about him failed to do his sincerity justice. “—as I’m trusting you with my legacy.”

“Of course.” You gave another smile; this time, it felt real.

“Excuse my sentimentality!” Mr. Sinclair clasped his hands together in a soft clap. You could almost see tears forming in the corner of his eyes.   “With that out of the way, dessert? The pastry chef here is—” His favoritism came into play. “—is something special.”

You could picture the chef now, cursing at the interruption. Hopefully, complaining about the big wig seated at table seven wasn’t worth his time. You waited for the rehearsed, polite decline.

Apologies, however, our chef is tied up between aeration.

But there he was, Chef Luca. His pristine white jacket contrasted perfectly against the warm ambiance of the evening. The distance was covered within a few long strides, and once at the table, his charmed smile made you nauseous. He played his part better than you had that night.

His features were tight, unwavering as the compliments poured. Your lips twitched down as you took him in. With his hands behind his back, his chest pulled broadly, but you could still make out the littered tattoos on his forearms. Typical.

Even with his eyes on you, you hadn’t shied from your judgment. You only stopped when you heard your name.

“Isn’t that right?” Ryan prompted you again, defined features expressing her sternness. Focus.  “You always talk about how much you love to bake.”

You don’t.

“Sure.” You nodded.

“A match made in heaven, then!” Mr. Sinclair exclaimed. “You must get to know Luca; he has the most interesting story!”

In your short assessment, you already disparaged his comment. To you, Luca was, like you, a walking cliché.

“I don’t doubt that…” Your sarcasm was palpable. Luca’s stoicism broke with a smirk of confusion. “Let me guess... You were a troublemaker?” Your tone was teasing but bordered something wicked.  “Cooking put you straight, and you owe your life to grease and adrenaline.”

“Forgot to mention that I’m a hard-partying criminal.” Luca didn’t waste a beat. Impressive.

“And when did the anger issues start?” You hummed. You played at every stereotype you knew. “Before or after your—

“I think what she means to say—” Ryan cut in seamlessly. She came prepared for your shenanigans. “—is that she admires the journey you’ve taken to get here.”

Luckily, Mr. Sinclair was far too enamored with the preciseness of the dessert to interpret the sudden banter.

“Of course.” Luca looked at you. Then as you had only moments ago, he pulled a practiced expression to address his loyal customer. “Mr. Sinclair, as always, it’s a pleasure to see you.”

“Unfortunately, I must savor tonight.” He spoke. “My home on the Amalfi coast has been quite lonely.” Sinclair let out a regretful sigh. “I trust you to keep this between us, yes?”

Luca nodded. “Of course.”

“You will be a very lucky man, son.” Sinclair further divulged the secrets behind his retirement. “I hope you heed my advice and get to know this young lady.”

All eyes were on you.

“She will continue to write for me. Use my name.” He explained your purpose. You weren’t ready to hear it aloud. “So treat her kindly, or you will have to answer to me.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Luca almost protested. It seemed elaborate to allow someone so young—you— to take his place.

“Be open. Present.” Sinclair answered. He wasn’t a man of riddles, but you noticed that the more he spoke, the harder to understand. “You were once new. You had to figure it out on your own. Maybe you can help her, show her your world. Our world.”

#q #chef luca #luca #chef luca angst #chef!luca x reader #chef!luca x f!reader #chef luca fluff #chef!luca #pastry chef luca #the bear fx #the bear luca #luca the bear #will poulter #will poulter x reader

[narnian-neverlander]

In Whatever Way [Adam Warlock x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: When he unknowingly tests your patience, you snap at Adam and say something you immediately regret.

Word Count: 5,1k

Warnings: Guardians 3 spoilers, talk about canon typical violence, cursing, slight injury & mention of blood, bit of angst, hurt & comfort, idiots in love, author being a sucker for the ‘oh. oh.’ moment of realization trope

A/N: Kind of a follow up to this one, but can absolutely be read as a stand alone

I have exactly one complaint and that’s Adam not having Will’s freckles (for obvious bodypaint reasons), so I went ahead and fixed that 💁

If someone had told you a year ago that a Sovereign would become your favorite person in the galaxy, you would’ve laughed in their face and then put a bullet in between their eyes for good measure. But life’s got a twisted sense of humor sometimes.

That first night after the defeat of the High Evolutionary, it’d been way too messy and hectic to find Adam a place of his own, so you’d dropped him off at your tiny apartment, very specifically told him to stay put and to not touch anything, and then headed out again in search of food and some clothes. You’d found those, but alongside them, you’d also found the furry F’Saki Adam had basically adopted. He’d looked about as lost as his owner, so you’d tucked the little guy under your arm and had taken him with you. Arriving back at your home, you’d discovered Adam curled up on your bed, fast asleep. The F’Saki had immediately scurried out from your grasp, made himself comfortable at Adam’s legs and had started snoring almost right after. You’d stood in the middle of your room, still in your dirty, torn uniform and bone tired, a young Sovereign and his pet passed out on your bed and had actually stopped to wonder how on earth your life had gotten to that point.

Not seeing a reason for staying any longer, you’d decided you might as well go out and get blissfully blackout drunk with your friends. Leaving a note with the change of clothes and food, you’d turned towards the entrance to find Nebula standing in your doorway. She’d scanned the situation she’d walked in on very carefully and then had simply raised slender, judgmental brows at you. You’d shooed her out, gently closing the door behind you, and had reminded her that ‘Adopting strays that’ve tried to kill us is kinda our thing; didn’t think I’d need to tell you of all people.’

Ever since that night, Adam had been virtually glued to your side. It’d been a bit strange and uncomfortable at first; you weren’t used to always having company, much less that of a Sovereign. There’d most definitely been an adjustment period with quite a few mishaps, one of which had ended with him in the med-bay with a bloody nose after he’d scared the ever living daylights out of you while you’d been testing the upgrades Rocket had made to your gauntlets - you’d apologized profusely for the rest of that day. Over time though, it had become apparent that he meant you no harm, nor did he have any ill will, he simply wished to repay the kindness you’d shown him when he’d felt he had no one looking out for him anymore.

And despite the fact that his golden skin and hair, his engineered-to-be-perfect face and body and his manner of speaking reminded you of his heritage everyday, you’d found it increasingly easy to ignore the fact that he was part of the species responsible for so much pain in your life. Of course, it wouldn’t be fair to hold him accountable for actions committed by his people long before he was even born. But it wasn’t just that, Adam was simply… different from the rest of the Sovereign. He might’ve been created to be perfect, but he was far from it: He was only just understanding his own limits, landing him in situations that had him in over his head more often than not. He could be arrogant and quick to anger over the smallest details. He only liked learning things if they came to him easy, but grumpily and quickly dropped the ones that didn’t. But there was always an underlying innocent curiosity and kindness in his actions; in the way he’d so effortlessly bonded with the rescued animals he was now taking care of. In the way he always immediately offered assistance, no matter how menial the task. In the way he’d taken such an interest in any and all earth things, simply because they held special meaning to you. In the few months since he’d come into your life, he’d captivated you so completely, had gotten you to care for him so deeply and truly, it even shocked yourself at times still. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

There is however still one topic of conversation that never seems to get easier and that’s his late mother, Ayesha. High priestess and figurehead of the crusade against your kind; all because of shapeshifting abilities you never even asked for. You’re very well aware of the fact that, before he became a part of the Guardians, she was the only family Adam had. That he’d cared for her very much, he still does, it’s obvious in the way he talks about her. And usually you let him talk, for his sake; to let him grieve by sharing stories about the loved one he lost. But today’s been exhausting, to say the least. You’ve been up since the crack of dawn and nothing seems to work out the way it’s supposed to. At the moment, you’re down somewhere in the bowels of Knowhere, courtesy of a broken filtration system. And since your resident genius raccoon mechanic is off world with Groot and you aren’t half bad with machines, the honor of trying to fix it had gone to you. You’d been down there for hours now, though, and aren’t making any real progress. Adam had joined you a little while back, and while you usually welcome his company, he’s picked a particularly bad day to select his mother as a topic of conversation. Your nerves are frayed, your patience running thin, but you hold your tongue, choosing to only answer in occasional hums of acknowledgement to confirm that you’re listening. That works out just fine right up until the moment he says “You remind of her, actually.”

The wrench you’re currently using almost slips from your sweaty palms as you bristle and hiss “Don’t ever say that again.” His answer is immediate and while you’re not looking at him, you can hear the genuine confusion in his voice. “Why not? It’s the truth.” The more rational part of you knows he means it as a compliment - but that part seems to have taken the day off. You swallow the rising bile in your throat before you reply with “I am nothing like that vile woman. Don’t compare me to her again, do you understand?” You’ve quite obviously hit a nerve, as you hear him rise from his seated position on some debris and when he speaks again the confusion in his voice has given way to anger. “My mother was not vile, take that back!”

You mumble “Maybe not to you…” more to yourself than anything else as you busy yourself with the repairs, absolutely not in the mood for this conversation, but he hears anyways. “I don’t care what you might think of her; she loved me!” A bark of laughter escapes you before you can stop it, bitter and cruel. “Please, maybe she loved what you were supposed to be; the ultimate weapon, the next step in their precious perfect evolution, but you failed that spectacularly. And even that’s pushing it!” The bolt you’ve been trying to loosen seems to have gotten stuck even worse as you aggressively throw your whole weight down on the wrench’s handle, any and all social courtesies you’ve kept up around Adam in regards to this particular topic going right out the window. “But don’t take that personally; Sovereign just aren’t capable of love, it’s as simple as - FUCK!!” The bolt finally gives way, sending you face first into one of the pipes of the machinery. Pulling back with a pained hiss, you bring a hand to your throbbing forehead and let out a few more curses when it comes away bloody.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Two deep, slow breaths it takes for you to calm down. It takes two more for realization to hit and the regret that comes with it threatens to choke you on the spot. Adam’s gone deathly quiet and you’d honestly prefer if he lost his temper with you; that you could handle at least. You’re terrified of what you’ll find when you turn around, so you do so slowly and immediately wish you hadn’t at all.

Adam’s an awful liar; he wears his heart on his sleeve and his emotions always plain on his face for everyone to read. And right now? Even on that first night, when he’d been injured, scared and all alone, you don’t think he’d looked so completely and utterly heartbroken. His name has barely left your lips in a desperate plea when he turns and takes off, the golden glow of his powers vanishing around a corner and completely out of sight not a second later. There’s no point in going after him right now, you know that, he’s stubborn, especially when he’s upset - not that that helps you feel better about yourself in any capacity; you well and truly want to throw yourself out of the nearest airlock. With a heavy sigh, you pick up the discarded wrench from the floor, deciding to give the young Sovereign some space and quickly, haphazardly finish with your work instead.

By the time you leave the med-bay, a bandaid now covering the wound on your forehead, it’s been a good hour or two, so you make your way to Adam’s apartment, hesitantly knocking on the door. When there’s no answer, you peek through one of the small windows, but the room is empty except for Blurp curled up on the bed, snoring contently. You check the cantina next, then the complex where the animals had been set up. You check in with Kraglin and Cosmo, Drax and Phyla, and basically any residents of Knowhere that you come across - no one has seen the golden man since he went off to help you. Your search eventually brings you to the spaceport, where you find the Bowie freshly docked, Groot carrying crates down the loading ramp, Rocket on his shoulders. Considering you were running out of places to check that were actually on Knowhere and Adam didn’t need oxygen like the rest of you, you figure you might as well ask if they’d seen him somewhere in the general vicinity of the giant head while coming back.

“Rocket, have you seen Adam?” the question’s out of your mouth before you’ve even properly reached them and your furry friend doesn’t bother to look up from the data pad he’s studying as he scoffs “Nice to see you, too, (y/n). Yeah, me and Groot are fine, mission went great, thanks for asking; always touching to come home to such a warm welcome.” Mumbling out an apology you only half mean, you cross your arms over your chest and look at him expectantly. When he realizes you’re not gonna go away, he hooks the pad to his belt with a groan and looks at you, one elbow propped up against Groot’s head. “How the flarg would I know? Goldie’s attached to your hip, not mine.” You don’t wanna have to get into details right now, so you settle for “Usually, sure. But I messed up, he ran off and now I can’t find him.” Rocket snorts, clearly not buying it. “The guy looks at you like you hung the friggin’ stars in the sky, what could you of all people have possibly done to piss him off that bad?” Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you avoid eye contact with him and busy yourself with a loose thread on your shirt instead. Details it is after all. “I… might’ve insulted his mother and told him I don’t believe Sovereign are capable of love.” The quiet lasts for all of half a second before Rocket starts cackling so hard, he goes tumbling off of Groot’s shoulders and ends up on the ground; clutching his stomach he’s almost howling in laughter and it makes heat shoot up to your face in both embarrassment and anger as you stomp your foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “Rocket this isn’t funny!!”

The raccoon struggles to his feet, one paw still on his knee as the other wipes at his eyes. “You’re right; it’s not. It’s hysterical! I mean… if that’s how you talk to a guy you’re actually into, I’d hate to see how you treat the ones you don’t like.” Brows furrowing in bewilderment, the complete change of topic makes you fumble for a moment as you ask “What… what the hell is that supposed to mean?” All traces of amusement vanish from Rocket’s face, jaw going slack as he stares at you and realizes you’re serious. He lets out a low whistle before he states “Wow. And here I thought the golden boy was clueless. At least he’s got some excuse, he ain’t been around the galaxy for all that long, but you? You can’t be for real.” You’re very quickly growing very tired of this conversation, so with a huff, you throw your hands up in exasperation. “Rocket, are you gonna stand here and give me riddles for the rest of the day or are you gonna help me?” Said help comes from the tree that’s been busy unloading the ship up until now. “I am Groot.” Your head snaps towards your teammate at the insinuation. “What tracker?” Now it’s Rocket’s turn to look embarrassed, a disappointed sigh and a long, drawn out version of his name leaving your lips. “I thought we talked about this ages ago; you can’t go putting trackers on people without their consent!” He doesn’t seem all that bothered by your outburst as he mocks “Oh boo hoo, y’all constantly whine about that right up until the moment it benefits you - like right now!” But he goes digging through one of the pockets on his belt anyway and holds out the small device he finds to you. Your anger more or less evaporates as you are yet again reminded that Rocket does care, in his own way. You kneel down to his level, take the tracker and give him a hug as you thank him - and just for good measure, press a long, disgusting kiss to his furry cheek as payback for laughing at your predicament. He scrambles out of your hold in obvious discomfort, gagging noises accompanying you as you take your leave, but as usual, he needs to have the last word, shouting “Save the smooches for Goldilocks!!” at your retreating figure.

Not even ten minutes later, you’re looking up at one of the tallest buildings in Knowhere. It’s an old, dilapidated communications tower that is long overdue for demolition; it’s all rusted metal and broken off, jagged edges, entirely impossible to climb without flight capabilities. Out of options, you helplessly check the tracker once more just to make sure that, yes, unfortunately he’s really up there, Rocket’s tech could be trusted on that and squinting up at the top you’re almost sure you see a glimmer of gold. You pocket the device with a shaky inhale and cup your hands around your mouth. “Adam!” you shout, even though you don’t really need to; he’s got enhanced senses, you’re certain he’d be able to hear you even if you whispered. “Adam, I know you’re up there, can you please come down?” Five seconds pass. Then ten. Then thirty. Nothing. “Listen, I know I messed up and I know you’re upset, but this isn’t gonna just go away, we need to talk about it!” A full minute of silence passes this time, dread and anxiety weighing down your shoulders more and more with each second that ticks by. When you speak again, you’re worried about your voice breaking, so it does come out as a whisper this time. “Adam, please. At least give me a chance to fix this.” Head hung low, you run both hands through your hair and over your face with an annoyed groan, upset with both his stubbornness and with yourself for having caused this mess in the first place. Thinking your attempt at a conciliation lost, you turn to leave and almost fall flat on your ass in shock when you find Adam standing there, arms crossed over his chest and glaring at you. “I do not wish to speak with you.”

“And you don’t have to, you just… have to listen for a moment, alright?” It takes him a few long, agonizing seconds to begrudgingly nod and you let out a relieved breath. Despite the hours you’d just spent searching for him, carefully laying out what you wanted to say, you’re drawing a blank at this very moment, but you try anyways. “Okay, look… I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I truly am.” When he scoffs in disbelief you reach for his hand, only to have him pull away, making your heart sink. Ever since he’d started experiencing things for himself and figuring out his likes and dislikes, it’d become clear quite quickly that Adam enjoyed physical affection, especially when you were the one to initiate it. He’d never turned it down - until now. How badly had you messed up?

“I mean that, Adam. It’s just that… I know Ayesha was your family and you miss her, but the person you knew her to be and the person I knew her to be are… quite contrasting. And I honestly don’t think there’s a way for me to reconcile both views with each other. I’ve let you talk about her because it seemed to make you happy, but you have to understand that it’s hard for me to hear praises about a person who was directly responsible for so much suffering and pain in my life. However, I also know that my experiences and rage… blind me, to a certain degree; lumping together all Sovereign isn’t fair, cause everybody’s their own person and can make their own choices, you’ve proven that.”

You can see the gears turning in his head, but he stays quiet and avoids looking at you all the same. You swallow hard around the lump that’s formed in your throat before you continue speaking. “Be that as it may, I also want you to know that you don’t have to accept my apology if you don’t want to.” His eyes are on you in a second and the hopeful tone in his voice when he says ‘I don’t?’ threatens to split your heart in two. “No, you don’t. I’m apologizing because it’s the right thing to do and because I feel absolutely awful about having hurt someone I care so much about. But if you feel that I’ve crossed a line, then…” Clearing your throat to keep your voice from breaking, you feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Then you’re under no obligation to accept it for my sake and I’ll have to live with that. I’ll give you some time to think about it.” Brushing past him, calls of your name fall on deaf ears as you leave, considering that’s just about all the emotional toll you’ll be able to take today.

A pillow tightly clutched to your chest, you’re curled up in bed not much later, tears still fresh on your cheeks. Honestly, you’re not sure why exactly you’re even crying. Because you’re sad at the prospect of having lost a friend? Because, despite of what you said, you wish he’d been less stubborn and just accepted your apology? Because you’re frustrated with yourself over how close you’d allowed the two of you to grow in the first place? It really doesn’t make sense to you. It had taken years for the rest of the Guardians to chip away at the walls you’d built around yourself so that they could squeeze inside, but Adam? A few months was all it had taken for him to get under your skin. For you to look forward to spending time with him everyday. For his laugh to become your favorite sound. For —

Your train of thought gets stopped dead in it’s tracks by a soft knock on your door, immediately followed by the scratching of tiny claws and an all too familiar whine. Wiping your palms over your eyes to get rid of the rest of the wetness staining your face, you scramble out of bed and make your way towards the entrance of your apartment. As expected, you find Adam and Blurp on the other side, the F’Saki slipping inside like he owns the place as soon as he’s able. He makes himself comfortable on the foot of your bed and looks at both of you expectantly, all bright eyes and perked ears. A setup like this normally means movie night, a little tradition you’d started to help Adam get a hold on as many customs as possible while still having fun and not actually throwing him into social interactions that would make everybody involved uncomfortable. For all intents and purposes, with the dim lighting in your room, the messy bed and Adam on your doorstep in his usual sleeping getup of sweatpants and a tank top, it does look like that’s what’s about to happen, you can’t blame the little guy for misinterpreting. Dragging your gaze back to the golden man at your doorstep, you’re surprised to find he doesn’t look half as exhausted as you feel. Matter of fact, this is the calmest and most determined you’ve seen him all day.

“May I come in?” You step aside to let him, gently closing the door behind you both with a quiet click. “I’ve thought about what you told me earlier and I think I’ve come to a conclusion on what I must do.” Dreading what comes out of his mouth next, you can’t seem to muster up the strength to look at him and keep your eyes downcast, only for his hands to enter your field of view and grab hold of your own. “I need to apologize to you.” Your head snaps up to find that he’s completely serious and barely manage to stutter out an incredibly intelligent ‘Huh?’

Adam lightly squeezes your hands when he continues. “Up until you pointed it out, it never occurred to me how the topic of my mother, my people might make you feel. Unintentional or not, my actions hurt someone I care about and I don’t like how it makes me feel. Apologizing is what I should do in that case, correct?” You wrangle with yourself for a second, but then squeeze back gratefully. “Yes, that’s right, and I’m thankful that’s the conclusion you came to, but… Adam, you couldn’t have known. I never said anything about it, instead I let my negative emotions fester and grow until I couldn’t take it anymore and it all came out in the worst way possible. If anything, we’re both a little to blame for this.” Pausing to take a deep breath, you continue with the question you really want answered, even though you’ve got a pretty good idea already. “So… does that mean we’re okay? You’re not upset with me and want me out of your life?” You watch his eyes grow wide in shock and his hands move up to your shoulders to settle there with a firm grip. “Is that what you were afraid of? Why you’ve been crying?” Shrugging as best as you can, you mumble “Kind of? You seemed so angry with me, I just thought I’d crossed a line there was no coming back from and it made me sad, so—“ The sentence stays unfinished as Adam envelops you in a bone crushing hug, even lifting you off the ground a little.

“(y/n), you’re the best thing that’s happened to me since I came into this world and I don’t even want to think about what my life would be like without you in it.” he says, face buried in the crook of your neck and you’re glad for it as you feel heat rising all the way to the top of your ears. Hugging him back just as tight, you reply “I don’t want to think about my life without you in it anymore, either.” Content just being in each other’s arms, you stay like that for a bit, until he breaks the comfortable silence with a quiet call of your name as he carefully puts you back on your feet, to which you respond with a hum of acknowledgment. “Do you really think me incapable of love?” And just like that, the feeling of wanting to throw yourself out an airlock returns; frantically stringing together the word ‘No!’ about ten times as you pull back to properly look at him. “No, of course I don’t, that was just… When people are angry, they’ll sometimes say and do things they don’t actually mean. But I swear I don’t think that about you, how could I? You’re proving the opposite every day.”

“I am?” he questions, brows furrowed, confusion and doubt clear as day and you can’t help but laugh softly as you go to cup his handsome face between your palms. “Oh my sweet Adam, do you really not see it?” Bringing his own hands to lightly hold your wrists, he sighs. “I wasn’t created to love. I was created to kill. To destroy. To bring pain and misery. So when you said that, I was… I am scared you might be right.” Gently running your thumbs over his cheeks, you simply look at your golden boy for a mere moment. The last rays of the artificial sunlight filtering in through your blinds cast him in a beautiful glow; eyes warm like honey, skin glittering like stars and the pattern of slightly darker golden, coppery spots over his nose and cheeks, an imperfection akin to freckles you’re still surprised they let him keep, all the more prominent. Of course he’s capable of love, he has to be. Surely, you wouldn’t fall for someone who wouldn’t be able to—

Oh.

Oh.

So that’s what that prick of a raccoon had been talking about. With the benefit of hindsight, it honestly baffles you it had taken this long for the other shoe to drop. Adam calling your name is what kicks your brain back into functioning after that epiphany; you blink and shake your head a little before responding. “Sorry, I was just… never mind. Do you… do you really not see how your everyday actions show love?” His eyes flick between yours as he considers your words and then settles on “I’m… not entirely certain what love is supposed to look or feel like.”

“Oh dear, uhm…” you’re unsure if you’ll be able to explain that to him properly, but you’ll be damned if you don’t at least try. “Well… there’s many different forms of love. All similar, but slightly different in some ways. But overall it’s… to deeply care for another being, I guess? When being with them brings you joy? When you want to see them safe and happy? And even though you might wish for that happiness to be with you, it’ll be fine if it’s not cause they matter more to you than yourself.” Your hands have wandered to the base of his neck, fingers buried in the short hair as he cocks his head to the side in thought. “Like you and the rest of the Guardians let Peter Quill and Mantis go on their own paths even though it made you sad to see them go?” Grinning, you nod in confirmation. “Exactly. And the way you took it upon yourself to take care of the animals we saved? The way you adopted Blurp, in spite of what your mother wanted, cause you felt he was sad and lonely? How you went out of your way to make sure I felt comfortable around you? All of that means you care. All of that are ways of showing love.” It’s obvious he’s trying real hard to comprehend everything you’ve just explained to him, but it a lot, so you continue with “Love is one of the most simple and basic emotions in most beings. But navigating it and differentiating between it’s different forms can be difficult - for everyone. There’s no rush though, you can take all the time in the world to figure it all out for yourself. I promise you have nothing to worry about, you’re perfectly fine, okay?”

Adam brings one of his hands from your waist up to cup your cheek and smiles when you lean into his touch. This is what he’d been trying to tell you earlier, when he’d compared you to his mother: He trusts you completely, your judgement, too. You make him feel at peace like no one else in the universe. “Okay.” he replies and you return his smile, just barely containing the urge to pepper kisses over his pretty face and -

Yeah you’re gonna have to deal with this particular mess of emotions sooner rather than later.

The tender moment gets interrupted by Blurp whining at you two, impatiently hopping from one paw to another on the foot of your bed. “It would appear Blurp insists on a movie night. If you feel like it?” you chuckle and Adam happily agrees. So you set up everything as usual and settle on a lighthearted family comedy to watch. But the day’s been long, exhausting and emotionally draining; try as you might your eyes keep drifting shut and you’re out cold ten minutes into the movie.

The golden man jumps a bit when there’s a slight thump against his shoulder, only to find you fast asleep. His focus now on you instead of the movie, tender fingers ghosting over the bandaid on your forehead in concern, he thinks about what you’ve just told him. About what love was supposed to feel like and it dawns on him that yes, the warmth that spreads through his chest all the way down to his feet when you do as little as smile at him must be love. And yet when he’s with you it’s… different from what it felt like to be with his mother or to be with Blurp or the rest of the Guardians. It irks him to not be able to properly discern what makes you special; you’d said there were different forms of love, but how was he supposed to understand the difference?

As you curl into his side more, one arm coming across his chest to hug him and his name subconsciously falling from your lips in a barely audible, sleepy mumble, he realizes it doesn’t matter, nor does he really care, at least not right this moment. For now, it’s enough for him to be certain of the fact that he loves you and you love him - in whatever way.

#adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #gn reader #adam warlock #gotg vol 3 #adam warlock fluff #idiots in love #angst #hurt/comfort #guardians of the galaxy #mcu #will poulter #my writing

[tom-whore-dleston]

Bound to the Villain

Pairing: villain!Adam Warlock x guardian!gn reader

Word Count: 995

This fic contains: some dark themes, abduction, reader is captive, corruption, evil arc, reader has some insecurities, unbeta'd writing

Summary: You are more than a guardian of the galaxy in Adam's eyes.

Notes: I said I missed writing for Adam so I said yolo and revisited a WIP I thought I had abandoned long ago. It's way different than what I originally planned but it'll do for now. Who knows I might write a part 2 with a little extra something something ;) This is my submission for @flashfictionfridayofficial, who I would like to shoutout for sparking inspiration back into my little brain :)

Your eyes fluttered open to what looked like a dungeon cell. As you gained consciousness, you struggled to remember what happened before you blacked out. All you could recall was fighting alongside the guardians of the galaxy. The reason behind the mission was foggy, along with who exactly you were supposed to defeat. 

Upon realizing your friends were nowhere to be found, anxiety rushed through your system as you tried to stand and run. However, you failed to move further than a meter as the chains around your wrists sent you crashing to the floor. You winced in pain as the metal tugged your skin. 

An ominous chuckle echoed in the room, yet you could not locate the source of the eerie sound. Your head whipped around the room until footsteps against the cobble approached you. 

“Who’s there?” You yelled into the void. A tall man with pure golden skin and wispy blond hair emerged from the dark side of the room. You gasped as your eyes set upon a gem in the middle of his forehead. In fact, it was a stone. A stone you and your fellow guardians were awfully familiar with. 

The soul stone.

Almost as quick as the snap that blipped your friends away, you immediately realized who you were up against.

Adam Warlock. The perfect man from space created to destroy the guardians of the galaxy.  

“What am I doing here? Where are my friends?” You interrogated, masking your fear with an angry voice. 

“No need to worry, my little one,” Adam answered. “Those idiots you call your friends are where you and I last saw them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they are on their way to find you. Some heroes they would be.”

Goosebumps pricked your skin at Adam’s pet name for you. Then, your stomach flipped as you worried about the safety of the other guardians. 

Were they really out there looking for you? The whole reason your team had been roaming the galaxy was in search of Gamora. Unlike you, Gamora was a stronger and more skilled fighter. Not to mention, Peter was still madly in love with her and refused to stop searching until she was found. You were intelligent, in fact, the most intelligent of the group. Hence, why you felt like an outcast most of the time, but maybe just this one time, you were wrong.

What really plagued your mind was what drove Adam Warlock to keep you of all the guardians as his prisoner.

“You kidnapped me? Why?”

The golden man laughed, kneeling to your level on the ground. “You know, I always pegged you as the smart one of the guardians.” 

You cocked a condescending smile. “Perhaps their stupidity rubbed off on me.”

Adam matched your snarky smile. “My main purpose may be to destroy you and your beloved friends, but I realized there is more to my being than death and destruction.” His gloved finger lifted your chin up so you were forced to gaze into his eyes. The gesture made your breath falter as his eyes pierced your soul.

“I may be powerful, but I am also lonely. I have desired a mate since my birth and when I was fighting you and those morons on Knowhere, I was instantly drawn to you.” 

You wanted to be infuriated, disgusted even, by his statement. Yet, your body betrayed you as your cheeks warmed up and you arched your back away from the wall. This made Adam’s grin grow wider.

“As smart as you are, you’re not very strong. It was very easy to use my powers against you and make you crumble to your knees. And there is no doubt why.” Adam leaned closer to you. 

“Your mind and heart are wounded. You loved and lost so many that you latched onto others who are as broken as you are. You hide your emotions to avoid getting hurt again. You’re just like me, little one. You’re lonely. But don’t mind that anymore, I can fix all that. Be my mate, and you will never have to be hurt or lonely again.” 

You conjured all of your strength to swing a punch at his face, yet the chains ricocheted your fist back. A frustrated huff escaped your nostrils as your muscles strained from the attempted attack. 

“You know, for someone who was born yesterday, you sure know how to woo a lady. But I’ll have you know, I am not broken.”

The same gloves hand smoothed over your face and down your neck, chills following his touch. 

“You can stop lying to yourself, little one. I may have been born yesterday, but even the dumbest creature to plague this galaxy can spot a broken soul.” Now, Adam’s face was only inches away from yours. His hot breath fanned over your lips as if hypnotizing you to close the space between you and him. 

All of a sudden, the shackles released from your wrists. Yet, you were unphased by your freedom. You should have knocked Adam to the ground and fled the scene before you could get killed. Instead, you gazed into Adam’s eyes, who extended his hand towards you.

“Take my hand. You will never have to experience pain ever again with me.” You found yourself succumbing to his touch, his voice, and his offer. Yet, at the back of your conscience, you thought about the guardians. How hurt they would be to learn that you chose to side with your enemy. All that time becoming a family with them just for it to go to waste. Your mind became fuzzy from this internal conflict.

“So, what’s it gonna be, little one?” 

Your once chained hand interlocked with Adam’s. It felt so natural, and you wondered if you were destined to be the villain. As his plush lips engulfed yours, the darkness clouded your judgment. 

If being bound to the villain was wrong, you never wanted to be right again.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Adam Warlock Masterlist

header credit: @saradika | divider credit: @firefly-in-darkness

#adam warlock #will poulter #guardians of the galaxy volume 3 #gotg vol 3 #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #adam warlock smut #adam warlock fluff #adam warlock angst #adam warlock headcanons #adam warlock fic #adam warlock fanfiction #adam warlock imagine #will poulter x reader #will poulter x you #will poulter imagine #will poulter fic #flash fiction friday #fff238

[fooled-around-and-fell]

How to request:

requests are open!

Just send me whatever you want! But here's a few things to note:

I write for female reader.

If I'm not comfortable with it, I won't write it. It's nothing personal against you!

I might take some time to write them, so I apologize beforehand.

If you see something you do not agree with in my work (subtle kinks, rpf), then kindly leave. Block me. Do not interact further. I respect your opinion, but you do not get to dictate what I write.

MASTERLIST ⤵️

..there is a lot of hot people on this list. enjoy.

❤red: smut/suggestive/spicy

▸ Pedro Pascal

The Best Kisser [fluff] Age Gap [angsty fluff] || Second Part [fluff] Pascal in a Song [fluff] Pascal with a Kid [fluff] Dancing [fluff] Sleeping Beauty [fluff, GN]

As Joel Miller:

The Two of Us [angst] Nursed to Health [fluff] ❤Fights [suggestive] ❤Pretty Like This [smut, angst] Home Bound Series

As Frankie Morales:

Phone Sex Operator [romance]

As Agent Whiskey:

Sweet Whiskey [fluff] Last Dance [angsty] Social Cues [fluff] Jack is sick [fluff]

▸ Jeremy Allen White

As Carmen Berzatto:

❤Cherry Compote And Apricots [smut] Square One [angst] || Squared Away [angst/fluff] A Romantic [fluff] ❤Strawberries and Cream [smut] ❤Suits [spicy] || Rewards [smut] ❤Slow Love [smut] Bad Day [angst/fluff] ❤Carmen getting a BJ [smut]

▸ Ryomen Sukuna

Shadows And Silk [angst/fluff]

▸ Suguru Geto

Your Best [angst/fluff] ❤She's Going To Love It [smut]

▸ Gojo Satoru

He's Mine [angst/fluff] || I'm Always Yours [angst/fluff] Scars Are Beautiful [fluff] She's Mean, And He Loves Her For It [angst/fluff] Her Rage Keeps Him Going [fluff]

▸ Fushiguro Megumi

Not a Kid Anymore [spicy, fluff] Stay the Night [fluff]

▸ Aaron Taylor-Johnson

As Tangerine:

Marks [angst, fluff] Baby Citrus [fluff]

▸ Will Poulter

Hugs, Massages [fluff] If you'd like to [fluff]

As Adam Warlock:

Becoming Human [fluff] Powerless [angst]

▸ Jensen Ackles

As Dean Winchester:

Time and Misunderstandings [angst] ❤Request: Best friends turned lover [smut]

As Soldier Boy:

Already Broken [angst/fluff]

▸ Ben Affleck

As Bruce Wayne:

Identity [romance] His Secret [angst]  Self-Defense [romance]

▸ Chris Evans

Found You [fluff]

As Steve Rogers:

The Enemy [angst] All I Ask [angst] Precious, Special, Important [angst]

▸ Tom Hiddleston

As Loki:

Monsters [angst/fluff] Empty [angst]

#masterlist #marvel #romance #reader #angst #fluff #avengers #supernatural #pedro pascal #chris evans #jensen ackles #loki #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #frankie morales #agent whiskey #jack daniels #kingsman #adam warlock #will poulter #peter quill #tom hiddleston #soldier boy #dean winchester #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi

[kyuriin-chan]

Adam Warlock x OC

Part 1

Word Count: 1.556

Warnings: Adam being cute, fluff, slight angst

POV Seraphina

I've known Pete for a relatively long time and even though I said goodbye to the Guardians, I missed them all very much.

After Gamora left us and Thanos was finally defeated, my help was requested by my brother who I hadn't seen in a long time.

So I also left the Guardians, even though it was very difficult for me at the time. They were all very dear to me and I promised them that I would come back as soon as I was needed or my help was no longer needed by my brother.

x

I slowly steered my spaceship to the well-known landing site that was kept free for me.

Pete had enlightened me about what had happened and I was glad that Rocket was fine now. After all, we were good friends and often exchanged ideas about technical things and what could be improved.

My ship finally landed and for a moment I just sat and let it all sink in. I considered this small planet and it's inhabitants to be home, even though my native home was actually light years away.

Here on this planet was my real family, friends who meant a lot to me. A smile graced my lips and I turned everything off to leave the ship.

Pete had just notified me of everything like he had done all along while I was gone so no one knew I was actually coming back. He had told me about the destruction of the city and I really wanted to help.

With steady steps, I made my way to meet the Guardians and tell them of my return.

POV Adam

Almost helpless, I watched the many people who tried to rebuild their city and did everything to help them.

After I pulled Peter out of space and rescued him, a lot of people seemed to trust me more and give me another chance as well. Still, I couldn't deny that I felt kind of alone. Everyone had someone they knew or got along with.

I didn't really know anyone.

Mantis assured me that I would find my place but I wasn't so sure. My mother often spoke of a person who formed our other side. To which one belonged and which gave one the feeling of safety and security.

Did I also have such a person?

I continued to stroll through one of the streets and only looked up when I heard a bright laugh. My gaze fell on Peter who seemed to be hugging an unknown woman. The two knew each other well and began to talk quickly.

I stared at them both rooted to the spot and began to study the young woman further. Her blond hair was long and gently swept behind her as she walked further away with Peter. She had a beautiful smile that made me feel warm even though that smile wasn't even aimed at me.

The two disappeared around a corner and for a brief moment I caught a glimpse of her face. If there were angels then I was convinced that she had to be one.

"Hey Adam! Come on! Pete has news for us! Hurry up, come on!", Mantis suddenly called out to me, who had stepped into my line of sight without me noticing.

How long did I stand there, just like that?

A little unsteadily I walked behind Mantis who also had Drax with her and was talking excitedly. However, my thoughts were still with the beautiful woman and her almost golden-blonde hair, which is why I didn't listen to her.

Together we entered a small bar that surprisingly survived the attack and was considered as our regular meet-up place.

"Listen up everyone! I have great news for you! Our dear Seraphina is finally back and will stay!", Peter's voice sounded. Everyone started cheering and even Nebula seemed to react positively to this news as a barely noticeable smile crept onto her face.

Confused, I looked around the small bar and waited for a more detailed explanation until a person stepped into the bar behind Peter. It was none other than the woman with the charming smile I had seen before.

So I stood a little apart and just watched how everyone hugged the young woman named Seraphina and were probably very happy about her arrival. At that moment, I really wished I could hug her like that and be near her too.

I watched almost longingly as she began to talk to the others and shared her story with them. Music started playing and Peter handed out drinks to everyone and although a happy mood ensued I just felt all the more left out.

Why would she want to talk to me too?

However, I couldn't take my eyes off Seraphina. She was pulling me in like some kind of magnet and I just couldn't resist the pull. Every now and then she brushed back one of her blond strands and I wondered if her hair really felt as soft as it looked. Her soft smile never left her lips and I secretly hoped that she would smile at me too.

"You can also talk to her Adam", Peter's voice suddenly sounded next to me and I looked over at him almost startled. He had a huge grin on his face and I got the feeling he had something in mind some kind of plan maybe.

"Instead of just staring at her, you know?", he continued and that's when I realized he must have been watching me without my noticing.

"I'm good... yeah. I'm just looking", I said quickly then looked back across the bar hoping he would leave me alone.

"Kinda creepy you know? Just staring and doing nothing", he said, leaning against the bar wall.

"I'm not staring!", I tried to explain to him again and crossed my arms uncertainly.

How was it that he could see through me like that?

"Whatever you say buddy. But talking to her won't hurt you y'know", he said taking a sip of the blue drink he'd been holding the whole time. With a huff I took one last glance at Seraphina and her smiling face, "I think I'm going outside for a bit."

Without Peter being able to say anything else, I almost bolted out of the bar and quickly inhaled the cool air from outside. I sneaked a peek through the bar window again hoping to see Seraphina but Rocket and Drax had apparently started a drinking contest and a large crowd had gathered in front of the window.

Almost furiously I kicked a stone away from the path in front of me and clenched my hands into fists. Now there was no way I could just go back after Peter caught me like that.

I wish it was that easy, but what if she just doesn't like me? What if all she sees in me is this monster that wanted to hurt her friends?

At that thought, a pain almost ran through my body and I put my hand on my chest. Shaking my head I walked on and admitted defeat. Countless feelings rolled through my body and I just couldn't place any of them.

"Hey! Wait!", a voice suddenly called from behind me and abruptly I turned just to look into Seraphina's blue eyes. She stopped in front of me and smiled softly at me.

"You're Adam, aren't you?", she asked me and I could only nod as she almost took my breath away.

"I'm Seraphina and I wanted to introduce myself again personally. I've heard a lot about you", she said and fear immediately went through my body like a bolt of lightning.

What had the others said about me? Did they also say that I was actually responsible for Rocket's injuries? In the end, I simply attacked the Guardians.

"Heard... from me?", I asked almost swallowing hard and stood as stiff as a statue in front of the young woman.

"You saved Pete and I'm very grateful for that!", she quickly explained to me and gave me an even bigger smile than before. Without warning she took one of my hands in hers and immediately that warmth flowed back into me. My heart started beating like crazy and I really hoped she wouldn't notice.

"The past is the past and all that matters is the here and now. You can decide who you are and what you do Adam. We're all here to help you", she said softly then let go of my hand.

I immediately missed her soft hands and their warm touch on my skin.

"I'd better let you go, it's already very late. See you tomorrow!", she said quickly and then went in the other direction past the bar. As if in a trance, I stood on the street and watched after her until her shape was no longer visible.

Her words echoed in my head and slowly a smile crept onto my lips as I had to look down. My hand was still tingling and I turned around as well.

For Seraphina, I wanted to be as good as possible. I wanted to protect her and make her proud, show her that I understood her words. I desperately wanted to feel more of her warmth and give in to this urge for her.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Feel free to comment your thoughts or prompts ✨

#fanfiction #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock #adam warlock x oc #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy 3 #peter quill #mantis #fluff #adam warlock fluff #angst #adam warlock imagine #adam warlock fic #marvel #marvel fic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #adam warlock imagines #will poulter #will poulter fic

[slut4fictionalmen33]

Don’t Leave (gally)

Summary: Y/n goes with the rest of the boys and Gally begs her to stay

Warnings: language, angst, violence, Gally’s “death” tmr spoilers

Word count: 1.8k

This morning you woke up bright and early to a familiar sound of yelling. A meeting was being held downstairs about escaping this hell hole.

“We can’t leave!” Gally yelled. “I was stung. The world is not good out there. And most of all we have to keep Y/n safe.” He pointed to his room which held you at the moment.

“Gally I know you’re frustrated bu-…”

“I am not letting Y/n out there. Even if my life depends on it.” Gally stomped up the stairs to your shared room.

He caught you listening into the conversation and he knew he had to say something.

“Y/n they found a way out.”

“I heard. Why don’t you want to go?” You crossed your arms. “Why don’t you want to be free?”

“Y/n… I want to be free. I do. But you haven’t seen the outside world. The Flare. The Scorch.”

“But what if it’s not all bad? What if there’s a place out there we can all make it to safely?”

“I won’t let you go.” He said sternly.

“Fuck you!” You yelled stomping out of the room and down to breakfast.

~

“Gally wants you to meet him in the homestead.” One of the builders said. “He said it was urgent.”

“Okay thank you.” You patted his shoulder before walking off toward the homestead.

“Gally!” You called out.

“Up here!” He called from your room.

Once you got up there Gally was sitting on the bed fiddling with one of the bracelets you had made him when you first started dating.

“Gally?”

“Y/n. I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have been a shuck face. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Look Y/n.” Gally grabbed your hands in his and sat down on the edge of the bed in front of you. “I can’t have you go out there without me.”

“Then come with us!” You yelled, letting go of his hands. “Come with us.” You repeated crying softly.

“Oh baby, don't cry please.” He stood up wiping your tears.

“How am I not supposed to cry when you rip my heart into two pieces!”

“No… no I didn’t. I love you.” He begged.

“Gally I think this is over.”

“No Y/n please.” He pleaded, grabbing at your arm.

“We’re done.” You said coldly, rushing out of the room.

~

A week after you and Gallys breakup it was finally the day you got to leave this maze.

Everyone was getting whatever important items they had claimed over their time in the maze and packing for the journey.

You had already lost so many people and many had only agreed to leave to get away from the past.

Thomas had a plan to keep Gally distracted and hopefully get him to come with you. So when it was time the plan fell right into place.

A couple builders under Gallys orders dragged Thomas’ lifeless body across the glade, dropping him at the base of the pole. All the while Teresa thrashed trying to get out of the boys hold.

“This is stupid!” and “What the hell do you think you're doing?” Were the only things falling from her mouth continuously.

“Tie him up.” Gally ordered calmly but when the boys did not comply the first time he snapped. “Did you not hear me? Tie him up.” He ordered again.

The two boys picked him up and the plan went into action. Thomas elbowed the boys in the groin while Minho cut Teresa loose and You and Newt made sure the boys didn’t try anything.

Gally spun around in a circle trying to comprehend what just went down around him.

“This is your last chance to stay here or come with us.” Thomas looked at Gally but implied it to everyone.

“Gally, I think I'm with them.” Winston spoke up.

“Me too.” A few more boys started walking over to group with us.

‘Please’ You mouthed as he looked you directly in the eyes.

“Good luck.” Gally said before walking through our crowd.

“Alright let’s go.” Thomas murmured, running into the maze.

You were frozen. With fear. With sadness. With all of it. You couldn’t believe Gally wanted to stay there. You felt like breaking down and crying but before the tears could even form in your eyes you were being ushered by Newt into the maze.

The run was long and consecutive, rounding corners every few feet just to see another ivy covered wall.

Eventually you reached the blades. Which were steel plates that stretched the whole length of the maze walls.

~

You reached the griever hole, Thomas poking his head past the wall to get a good look. He quickly swiveled, back flush against the wall.

“Is there a griever?” Chuck asked, squeezing your hand. Thomas nodded, swallowing hard.

“Chuck, I need you to stay back with Y/n and Teresa. Everyone else… Do you trust me?”

A series of nods went around and Thomas started charging toward the exit. He screamed when he came in contact with the first griever fighting him off with his spear.

Suddenly a door that was invisible to the rest of the boys opened. “Thomas?!” You yelled walking through. “There’s a code.”

A code? Code! He thought. “Minho, what's the sequence of the maze?”

“What?!” Minho yelled, fighting off a particularly strong griever.

“The sequence to the maze!” Thomas yelled again.

“7…1…5…2…uh 6…4…” He was cut off by a griever falling right on top of him from the sky.

Minho struggled until Jeff gained the courage to jump on top of the culprit stabbing it with his weapon.

Minho escaped from under it but now Jeff was a victim. The griever thrashed as it started eating Jeff’s legs until the others started climbing in front of it.

“Jeff!” Winston yelled as Frypan dragged him backwards.

“Minho what’s the rest!” You yelled.

“uh… 6, 4, 3, 8.” He yelled stabbing at the grievers.

The walls above them started to close, crushing them instantly as you and the rest of the gladers got sucked into darkness.

~

You woke up in a hallway with a door labeled “EXIT”.

“Really?” Frypan said sarcastically, pulling the door open for everyone.

There were bodies everywhere, none of them alive. Many of them shot. Some were stabbed.

“What the hell?” You gasped stepping over the puddle of blood.

“They were watching us.” Newt said, walking over to a computer that showed various segments of the glade. But one thing that didn’t seem right was that Gally wasn't there.

Thomas watched for a minute then stared at the flashing red button under him before pressing it. A hologram popped up on where the glass used to be. An older lady with her hair tied back and bright red lipstick on.

“Hello, my name is Dr Ava Paige. I’m director of operations at the World Catastrophe Killzone Department. If you’re watching this it means you’ve successfully completed the maze trials. I wish I could be there in person to congratulate you but circumstances seem to have prevented it.”

Everyone stared as this woman you had never seen spoke to you about some three years of your life and how it had all been a trial.

“I’m sure by now you must all be very confused… angry…frightened. I can only assure you that everything that’s happened to you… everything we’ve done to you. It was all done for a reason. You won’t remember but the sun has scorched our world.” You stood there in shock once again. Gally was right and now there was nothing you could do.

“Billions of lives lost to fire… famine… suffering on a global scale. The fallout was unimaginable. What came after was worse. We called it the flare.” And a viewing of a flare victim was shown on the screen. He was violent, black goo dripping down his face, thrashing under the nurses hold.

“A deadly virus that attacks the brain. It is violent. Unpredictable. Incurable. Or so we thought. In time a new generation emerged that could survive the virus, suddenly there was a reason to hope for a cure. But finding it would not be easy.” Chuck looked at you strangely for your teary eyes. You had pieced this puzzle together.

“The young have to be tested, even sacrificed inside harsh environments where their brain activity could be studied. All in an effort to understand what makes them different, what makes you different. You may not realize it but you’re very important. Unfortunately, your trials have only just begun. As you’ll no doubt soon discover not everyone agrees with our methods. Progress is slow, people are scared. It may be too late for us, for me, but not for you. The outside world awaits. Remember WCKD is good.” She said right before grabbing her gun and killing herself right in front of a bunch of teenagers. As if everything she had done wasn’t enough.

Most of everyone looked away, a few so hooked they couldn’t look away that was until a familiar voice caught your ear.

“We can’t leave.” Gally said, gun in his shaky hand.

“Gally?” You questioned stepping towards him. “Gally what’s wrong with you?”

“We can’t leave.” He repeated raising the gun.

“Gally no.” You put your hands out.

“Get out of the way Y/n.” He ordered, aiming the gun at Thomas.

“We belong to the maze.” He said pulling the trigger. Chuck jumped in front of Thomas shielding him from death while Minho threw his spear across the room and right into Gallys chest. He fell to the floor gasping for air. Short breaths in. Short breaths out.

You stood there shaking, turning between Gally and your friends. You ran over to Gally and fell to your knees in front of his body.

“Gally please. Don’t leave. I don’t hate you. I love you. I hurt you. I'm sorry. I-…”

“Y/n I-I l-love y-you.” He choked out reaching up to caress your cheek.

“I love you too, I need you to stay with me.” You grabbed his hand. You bathed in the affection until Newt and Minho had to pull you off of him.

“No! We can’t leave him! I won’t leave him!” You thrashed as they carried you to the helicopter.

“Y/n he’s dead.” Winston broke the news to you.

“No he’s not you dumb shuck! He was alive when you carried me out! He’s alive.” They placed you in the helicopter. “I have to get him.” You told Newt.

“I know love. You’ll meet him again.” He caressed your head similarly to how Gally would after a long day.

You cried into his chest until you fell asleep on him. Falling deep into slumber dreaming about your dead boyfriend.

#the maze runner #gally one shot #gally maze runner #gally #gally imagine #gally x y/n #tmr gally #gally x reader #gally angst #will poulter

[mackjlee9]

Adam Warlock x Male!Reader [Angst&Fluff]

[It's funny how this was gonna be a Will Poulter x Actor!Male!Reader instead lol]

[sorry if there are any confusing moments, I tried to make the flashbacks transitions obvious but not awkward :/]

Masterlist.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.3

"Help us! Please"

The painful screech of a woman pleading for her children's lives bounced off the walls inside his skull, "Someone... We need someone who can help us!" A deep, hoarse voice followed, the same desperation and pain in his voice.

Blinking in what felt like slow motion, his (e/c) eyes observed through the flying dirt around him, structures exploding and collapsing, pieces of rumble finding their way to them, hitting their skin and leaving scratch marks and even deeper cuts, the shock wave of the nearby explosion reached them, walls tumbling down to the ground along with him, knocking him unconscious for a few minutes.

He looked around the room he was in, realizing he was... Alone. His parents and siblings were nowhere in sight, and he panicked.

"Mother..." He spoke softly as he stood up, his stance wobbly as he reached to hold himself up the wall, "Father!" Yelling out to them, he walked out of the room into the next one, his breath getting caught in his throat at the gruesome sight, "No..."

His body gave up on him, falling to his knees and painfully crawling his way to his family, tears clouding his eyes when he saw his mother, a tight feeling in his throat.

"No!" His voice broke as he cried out for them, clinging onto what was left of his family, "Come back, please! You can't leave! Mom! Dad!"

In his desperate and futile attempt to save his family, he didn't notice the voices of people outside the remains of his house, calling for them as they found another survivor. He only realized there were others with him when he was held around his waist and picked up off the ground, begging to be dragged outside.

"No! Let go of me! Mom-!" His voice was raspy and his throat was sore, his hand scratching at the arms around him, his rage and pain making the still standing walls shake and crack, threatening to fall any second, making it impossible to stay inside any longer.

He wasn't strong enough to free himself, and he was realizing that he was losing strength, his eyes watching as they walked away from his collapsed home, being carried away...

"(M/n)?"

The sound of his name being called and a warm hand placed on top of his got him back to reality. He had been swarmed by memories again, all the people screaming, his family, his friends, even his enemies... He remembered it all, all the pain and sorrow that came with the invasion of his planet.

But with that, hope and faith came along.

Staring into bright golden eyes, (M/n) hummed in response, letting Adam know that he was there, with him.

"Do you... Wanna talk?" Adam's voice was hesitant, perhaps because he knew all the pain (M/n) felt, only being amplified by the fact that they were flying past the remains of his planet, floating aimlessly out in the vast void that was the space.

(M/n) looked at him, and showed him a small smile, before shaking his head.

"It's okay, I'll be fine," he stands up, lifting his hand to Adam's shoulder before patting it a couple of times, "Don't worry about me."

And with that, he walked away.

Adam frowned as he continued to stare at (M/n) until he disappeared around the corner. Six months had passed since the day the Guardians had come to (M/n)'s home planet for a mission, rescuing the (h/c) haired male from its invasion. He had asked if he could join the Guardians on their missions, and now, he was one of them. This was his first job, of course everyone was gonna be slightly worried about him.

//////

In the time he has been around, he found out a lot of things about the Guardians and everyone who used to be one back in Knowhere. Unfortunately, he could only hear stories about Star-Lord and Mantis from their friends, such as Rocket and Groot.

And knowing about the Guardians meant knowing about Adam himself. The boy was quite naive, and clueless, but he was eager to learn, not scared to make mistakes and learn from them instead of looking back on them and thinking 'what if'. It was safe to say that they, Adam and (M/n), had become quite close.

Neither of them really knew why or how it happened, but they are what one would call, friends. Which meant, being there for each other during bad and dark times.

Like the time when Adam hadn't been able to save a small family, a dad with his two daughters, surrounded by grotesque creatures. There wasn't much he could've done, but he gave them hope, a glimpse of light in the tunnel, before their eyes closed to never be opened again.

He had beat himself over and over again for that, becoming scared and skeptical about whether he was cut out to be a Guardian of the Galaxy. (M/n) hates remembering that Adam didn't say that to him directly, but he rather knew because the golden boy had been talking to his little furry friend Blurp, a cute and rather mischievous F'Saki.

"Why didn't I save them? I could've..." Adam sighed, messing with his already messy blond hair, and (M/n) frowned as he kept himself hidden, "They were... There, right in front of me and I... I couldn't..." Hearing his voice trembling and breaking made Blurp whine, nudging Adam's hands that were covering his face, "There's... No reason f-for me to be a Guardian if I... I can't s-save someone in front of me..."

He couldn't take it anymore.

"You did what you could, Adam," the sudden sound of his voice made the Sovereign jump in place, his hand lowering as he turned his head to look at him over his shoulder, "We all did," stepping closer to him, (M/n) made his way until he was sitting next to Adam, slowly placing his hand on top of his, gently holding it, a reassuring smile on his face, "Don't beat yourself up for it."

Adam shook his head and stared into (M/n)'s eyes, his bright golden ones filled with tears.

"I could've done more, I know I could've..." He paused for a moment, blinking as tears fell down his golden skin, looking down at their hands, "I'm not cut out to be a Guardian, I'm not made for it."

He wanted to tell him that it wasn't true, that he was more than worthy of being a Guardian, but he doubted Adam would've believed him with the way he talking about himself.

"Adam," leaning closer, (M/n) made eye contact with him, "Maybe you weren't able to save them, but... You saved so many more people, you're always helping others and doing your best, pushing your limits, and putting yourself in danger every time," his soft tone made Adam sigh, feeling his mind quieting down, feeling calmer now, "And you will continue to do so, wouldn't you?"

A small smile graced Adam's face, turning his hand to squeeze (M/n)'s back, "I do it because I know you'll always have my back."

That was a pretty nice memory, even if it had a bittersweet taste to it, it was what they needed, to know they will always be there for each other, no matter what. And they aren't gonna let these weird feelings be the cause of that either.

(M/n) and Adam had been sent on many missions together on their own, something neither of them minded, they enjoyed spending time together, even if it meant going to a chill place to bring something to someone or like that other time they jumped off the roof of a building.

They just had the simple task of having a delivery to a neighboring planet, nothing wrong with that, they were actually received with a warm welcome, heading to the rooftop of the business building they were in, enjoying a nice lunch of intergalactic food and delicious drinks.

Everything was going okay, which wasn't a recurrence when it came to the Guardians, but it was nice whenever it happened. However, they don't usually last long.

It appeared to be some political discrepancy on the planet, and they just so happened to be where the so-called president or queen or ruler of the land was.

The rogues, as they were called, were against her and her beliefs, her opinions, and her way of seeing their home, they didn't like that. The planet wasn't at war, but... It wasn't peaceful, it seemed more like a riot.

Thankfully, everyone in the building had managed to evacuate with (M/n) and Adam's help, but now their only way to escape the place before it collapsed was from the roof. And with each passing second the building shook more and more often. Adam could've easily just flown away, but (M/n) didn't have abilities like the Sovereign male did, so Adam had to save him as well.

Which he did.

He held (M/n)'s hand in his and ran off the edge of the rooftop, wrapping his arms around his body on their way down, before flying away together.

Adam only managed to get away a few meters before the shock wave reached him and messed him up, causing him to hit the ground and roll on the grass for a short while. Another explosion went off and sirens could be heard around when they finally stopped rolling.

(M/n) opened his eyes, staring directly at Adam's neck. He placed his hand on the ground and lifted his upper body off of him.

"You okay?" He mumbled loud enough for Adam to hear him, watching him frown and look at him. A shiver ran down (M/n)'s body when he realized how close their faces were, and he noticed a copper tint darkening Adam's face, it looked like he was blushing.

Adam opened his mouth to say something, but it seemed like the air was stuck in his throat, making him release quiet sounds, until he finally nodded a few times.

Damn... The tension between, the mutual pining, adoration, and respect was so obvious. And yet, none of them could realize.

But right now wasn't the time for (M/n) to be reminiscing the past, they had a job to do.

//////

Blurry sight and dizzy mind were all he could make out of the current situation.

Knowhere was under invasion, and everyone that could fight was fighting, with their lives on the line.

Like (M/n).

He can't remember the number of times he got punched and tossed around, after the few first ones everything felt like a dream, he couldn't hear and see properly, feeling as if he was underwater.

He made out the big and robust silhouette of the same guy he had been fighting, and something in his mind clicked. This was it. This was his end. He was gonna die.

(M/n) coughed up more blood as he move his body, feeling it throbbing with pain everywhere, every inch of his body was screaming and screeching at him to stop moving, but his mind told him to keep fighting, for Knowhere, for the Guardians. For Adam.

"Come at me, asshole," he managed to gruff out, a deep frown on his face, and he heard the growl the guy released as he approached him.

In his dazed state, he felt his body being picked up and thrown, his back colliding with a wall soon enough, before falling limp to the ground, a smile on his face as he witness the Guardians giving it their all, and succeeding.

Good job, guys...

(M/n)'s eyes began closing, dark spots filling his vision more and more with each second that passed, until there was only darkness, filling his sight and mind, his pain fading with a quiet hum, one last breath leaving past his parted lips, drops of blood running down his skin and falling to the cold ground under him.

Perhaps he could've done something different, something more, anything that would count, but... Maybe it just wasn't meant. Maybe he and Adam weren't born to be together after all.

I love you, Adam. I'm sorry.

//////

Rage clouded Adam's vision, his fist colliding with anything that got in his way to save (M/n), including the robust guy that had been throwing him around, the enjoyment in his face only made him angrier.

If it wasn't for Groot holding him back, his hands would've squished the guy's head, he could easily do that if he so damn pleased, but not now, and not ever.

"Kraglin!" Cosmo's voice could be heard, a scared and desperate tone in her robot voice, "(M/n) is not breathing!"

That was all Adam needed to break free from Groot's hold, and they ran as fast as they could to get to (M/n). Nebula and Drax had helped as much as they could to protect their home and population, and now, they were looking over (M/n)'s bloody and beat up body.

"Let's get him to the medbay!" Rocket called as he started making his way there, thankfully it had survived the attack and was mostly still standing.

Adam leaned down and picked (M/n) up before anyone else could, blinking away the tears that clouded his sight, he still looked magnificent to him, despite the dirt and blood coloring his skin, Adam could only hope that (M/n) would open his eyes and smile at him like he always did whenever Adam wasn't feeling the best, doubting the perfection of his civilization, and the loss of his mother... He didn't know what he would do without (M/n) in his life.

He walked into the med bay and gently laid (M/n) down, and soon, med-packs were placed everywhere on his body, fixing broken bones and open wounds, but he was completely still, not breathing despite the oxygen mask and getting colder by the minute.

Nebula's shaky hands grabbed the cables attached to the heart rate monitor, and she placed them in (M/n)'s chest, the dreadful sound of the flatline filling their hearing, making them freeze in their spot. But while everyone took a step back, Adam stayed in place, his eyes fixed on (M/n)'s face, and only one thing in his mind.

To get him back. He wasn't gonna let (M/n) go... Not without telling him how much he means to him, not without letting him know how madly in love he is with him. He wasn't gonna let him go, not now.

His hands moved on their own, removing every cable and med-pack out of his body, placing his hands on (M/n)'s chest to begin the chest compression, his sight shifting from the monitor to (M/n)'s face, a silent yet desperate pray for him to just... Wake up. Or for him to wake up, because this felt like a horrible nightmare.

Adam had no idea for how long he had been trying to get (M/n)'s heart to beat on its own again, but everyone around him couldn't keep looking, the sight of a broken and desperate Adam, as he attempted to revive (M/n), was painful enough to cause tears to freely fall their faces.

"Adam-" Kraglin called him, trying to get his attention and make him stop, he was only hurting himself more by doing all this, but Adam wasn't gonna give up, not now.

Even so, the tears have also started falling down his gold skin, sobs of his own leaving his body, his bottom lip trembling, "Come on... Please, please, please..." He cried with a quiet, broken voice, maintaining his eyes locked onto (M/n), if anything, he wanted to remember him, every detail of his face, he needed to have him engraved in his memory.

His determination to get him back was faltering, and his compressions were slower and more spaced, he was giving up...

"Just... One last time, please..."

The moment he pushed for the last time, a sharp gasp could be heard in the medbay.

(M/n)'s body shot up, his hands gripping tightly onto the surface he was laying on, blindly reaching to take the oxygen mask off his face. He blinked a few times, regaining his sight slowly, and he saw Adam next to him.

"What-?"

Adam's hands held his face as he leaned down closer to him, muffling his question as their lips pressed together. (M/n)'s eyes were wide open for a few seconds, before they slowly began to close, his hand reaching up to hold onto Adam's wrist, reciprocating his kiss.

Shivers ran down their spines and goosebumps covered their skin, but they soon had to pull away from each other. Adam looked at him, a faint smile pulling the corners of his lips up.

"I missed you," (M/n) felt a smile of his own growing on his face as he felt Adam's hands stroking his face, staring into his eyes with a feeling that warmed his whole body from the inside out.

He would've said something if he wasn't because he caught a glimpse of the rest of the Guardians behind Adam, and he realized where he was.

He felt a knot in his throat at the realization that he was gone, for a short while, but he was, he could barely remember how he had decided to part from them- from Adam, without a goodbye or a confession, and he hated himself for that, because...

There's no way he could just leave the Guardians behind, he couldn't give up on his life and... He couldn't cause that pain, sorrow, and guilt to Adam.

He smiled brightly with tears glossing his sight as he sat up with Adam's help.

"I'm home."

#adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x male reader #guardians of the galaxy #gotg3 #gotg vol 3 #gotg3 adam #adam warlock #will poulter #will poulter x reader #will poulter x male reader #will poulter imagine #male reader #x reader #reader insert #angst #fluff #.mackjlee9 writes

[arcadian-litterateur]

rivers run dry | gally x oc

masterlist

summary: the four times gally cried in the glade, and one time he cried while escaping it.

word count: 4k

warnings: suicide, death, suicidal thoughts, nightmares, knives, blood, bodily fluids

a/n: so gally is my sweet baby boy and i have a feeling he masks his feelings and never lets himself cry. this one shot started out from that basic idea and then i decided to add in a love interest oc. jaelin is definitely flawed as you'll see, but she's also my baby and i will probably write more about her.

jaelin is named after "jael" from the bible. when israel was getting attacked by (some foreign army), the guy in charge of the israelite soldiers chickened out, and the leader of the attackers escaped, but jael, an israelite woman, lured him into her tent and was like "take a nap here while i make you a snack" and then while he was asleep she hammered a tent peg through his temple (he died lol). so she became the hero of the battle! pretty badass, if you ask me.

jaelin is played by jasmin savoy brown

In all his time in the Glade, Gally had only cried four times. He'd felt close to tears hundreds of times; at least once a week if not once a day, but the tears only fell four times. He only let them fall four times.

The first time Gally cried in the Glade was when he came up in the Box. He was jammed into the tight, confined space with what seemed to be twenty other boys, with no memory of who he was and the sinking feeling that he was hurtling up towards death. The smells of vomit, sweat, and urine mingled in the air, Gally unsure if his neighbor had pissed himself or if Gally himself was the culprit. When the Box slammed to a halt, the possibility that he'd pissed his pants became less of a priority, the crying and yelling of the boys pausing when a tall boy at the front climbed out of the Box to check their surroundings.

“It's a clearing, surrounded by walls too high to climb,” the boy observed, as he scanned the dark, evening-shadowed Glade. “But nothing too dangerous. It looks like it's made to be lived in.” At this affirmation of safety, the sweaty boys started clambering to leave the confined space. Gally hung back, not wanting to be trampled—or, considering his large frame, accidentally trample someone else. Eventually though, he was pulled out of the Box with the other stragglers, a wiry, tall boy with sharp eyes and brown hair taking control. Thin, wire-frame glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Trying to assess the situation, the boy asked,

“Does anyone remember anything?” A chorus of names rang out but no other information seemed retrievable, some boys still at a loss for what their names were. Gally had remembered his name as an older, dark-skinned boy had helped him out of the Box. “I'm Nick,” the self-appointed leader stated. “That's all I remember, and it seems like whoever put us here might have made us forget everything on purpose.” A murmur of agreement rose amongst the group, one blond boy remarking,

“They've given us supplies to start a homestead in this Glade, whoever they are.” Gally noticed an interesting lilt in his voice. He was British. Gally also noticed that he was right. The supplies in the Box were for building; starting a life here…and that scared Gally.

The dark-skinned boy who'd helped Gally out of the Box was standing next to Nick, obviously taking the spot of Second-in-Command. He addressed the group, “My name's Alby. And I think this blondie here is right. What's your name, Blondie?”

“Newt,” the Brit answered.

“Like a lizard?” another kid spoke up. Newt rolled his eyes,

“No. It's short for Newton. I just have this feeling that I was always just Newt, before. Whatever before was.”

“Newt, it is, then,” the other boy shrugged. “I'm George.”

“Alright, introductions later,” Nick interrupted. “For now, let's unload the Box. Then we'll figure out where to go from there.” In robotic, shocked motions, the boys got to work, Gally's mind numb and void of memories, but buzzing with an odd feeling about something important.

It hit him then, how shitty and confusing this situation was. He felt so utterly alone. He had this sinking feeling that loneliness had been a common variable in his before, and he had a feeling that would remain true even now, in the Glade.

Much to Gally's chagrin, tears pricked his eyes as the panic caused by the amnesia found a grip around his heart. The boy tried to hold the tears back for as long as possible, but the desire—the need—to cry was overpoweringly large, and as quick as they'd formed, droplets were rolling down Gally's face and onto his shirt.

Gally was sobbing, and anyone could see him.

Newt was the only one brave enough to approach Gally. Every other boy in the Glade had shrunk back, obviously intimidated by Gally's height and strength, despite his current state. However, Gally's height advantage over everyone but Alby didn't seem to intimidate Newt.

“Hey, Bud, are you alright?” Newt asked, placing a gentle hand on Gally's broad shoulder. It took Gally a second or two to gain enough composure to whisper,

“Yeah.” Of course, that was a lie; none of them were fine, but Newt let it slide.

“What's your name?” the British boy inquired.

“Gally.”

“Well, it's nice to meet you, Gally. You're pretty strong, it looks like. Care to help move and sort these building supplies?” The offer was an olive branch, and Gally knew that he wouldn't be judged for refusing and staying here to cry some more. But the word “building” seemed to reignite a spark in him; give him a reason to get up.

“I think I'm supposed to build stuff, he mumbled, the epiphany lighting up a once-dull face with hopeful determination.

Newt looked surprised, but then grinned, declaring, “Then build, you will!” He offered a hand to Gally, who let himself be pulled to his feet. Newt looked his age—maybe younger, even—but there was a nurturing air about him that made Gally trust him enough to follow him.

Drying his tears, Gally followed Newt to the building materials, ready to jump right in.

The second time Gally cried in the Glade was when Jaelin told him she wanted to die. Jaelin was the only female Glader, and her intended role was still unclear—at least, as far as what the Creators wanted. However, she'd adjusted well during her first year in the Glade, almost becoming “one of the boys.” She'd made it clear that she wasn't interested in romance, and was badass enough to kick your ass if you tried anything funny. The first two guys were humiliated enough for all the other Gladers to get the memo—you did not mess with Jaelin.

Jaelin could see past Gally's tough exterior to the light within, even when he couldn't see it himself. She had this talent of bringing out the best in him. In everyone. He trusted her with his life. All his struggles, secrets, and slip-ups were hers to know.

He always felt extra special when she'd share something in return, but he never could've prepared himself for the way Jaelin's sunny face dropped, her body slumping against his as she mumbled, “I'm so tired of all of this. Of the monotony. The loneliness. I want to end it.”

Gally's heart immediately skipped a beat, his mind racing as he muttered, “No, no, Jaelin. No, you can't. Jaelin, please.” The teenage girl just looked up at him pleadingly, those doe eyes filled with desperation.

“Gally, you don't get it. You don't understand what it's like.”

“I know I don't, but I care too much to let you give up,” he argued, unsure of how to show her that she was needed. A blurry image of him chiseling a line through her name popped into his head, and he felt tears rush to his eyes, seemingly out of the blue. “I know it's selfish as hell, Jae, but I can't lose you,” Gally confessed. “I don't know how I'd survive without you.”

Almost of their own accord, his arms wrapped around Jaelin, enveloping her in a warm, secure embrace. She didn't fight it, slowly wrapping her own arms around Gally's waist. She could feel his face pressed into her hair—which she didn't mind, seeing as her face was smushed against his chest—and from the vibrations of his sternum, Jaelin had a feeling the boy was crying. She'd never witnessed him crying before. She knew he was being exceptionally vulnerable, all in an attempt to reach her and pull her from such dark depths.

Gally knew his tears were dripping down his face and onto Jaelin's hair, and he truly hoped she didn't mind, because there was no way he was letting go. He'd hold onto Jaelin for the rest of time to keep her safe, if need be.

“Jaelin, please don't go,” he murmured, body shaking as tears poured from his eyes. “I'll do anything.” Gally felt the girl's body go completely lax as a small wet mark appeared on his shirt, right where her eyes were. She was crying, too. “Jae?” he asked, concerned.

“I'm okay,” came the soft reply, Gally becoming hyper aware of Jaelin's warm breath blowing across his chest through his thin shirt. Gally's hand automatically found her hair, running through it in soothing repetition. Of course, he'd done that before, but this was a different dynamic. A different purpose. Not playful or teasing, just “I love you and I'm here.”

“Are you?” Gally questioned. It wasn't that he didn't believe her—far from it—but he just wanted to make sure she had a good grasp on her mental state.

“Well, I'm doing better than a few minutes ago,” Jaelin clarified. Gally nodded,

“Good. Now, is it safe for me to let you go? You're going to be smart, right? You're not going to try to hurt yourself, right?”

“Right,” Jaelin agreed. “I'm going to help you finish Builders' inventory, and then eat dinner with you, and then hang out with you.” As she said this, Jaelin used her long sleeves to dry Gally's face of the remaining tears he'd shed for her, the small but kind gesture making the teenage boy's heart soar.

“That sounds like a good plan,” he chuckled, standing up and pulling Jaelin up with him.

“Where to, Captain Gally?” the girl joked. Gally laughed, accepting her offer to link arms.

“To storage!” And off the mismatched pair went.

The third time Gally cried in the Glade was when he was stung. Now, Gally wasn't stupid—he knew that as a non-Runner, he wasn't allowed to enter the Maze. And Gally, being the stickler for rules that he was, would over the rule of the Glade till his dying breath.

But, of course, everyone has a weakness. Everyone has something that would make them risk it all, just to secure some kind of finality for whatever that something is. Or in Gally's case, someone. Jaelin.

Looking back, it was clear to Gally that Jaelin was just as much of a rule-follower as he was. Jaelin would never enter the Maze when the rules clearly forbid it. She appreciated order; swore by it. No, Gally should never have thought that Jaelin might have entered the Maze. It wasn't in her nature. And he learned from this mistake; Gally did. Yes, he suffered for it dearly.

It had been a few weeks since Jaelin had opened up about being suicidal, and much to Gally's relief, she'd remained open and happy to accept help. She even told Gally herself that she was doing better, which he was glad about. And seeing Jaelin smile again? Gosh, it made Gally's days complete, filling his stony heart with meager fragments of hope. Small, but definitely there. Everything felt as it should be in Gally's book.

But then one day, Jaelin was nowhere to be found. Gally checked all their usual spots and even the obscure ones, several Gladers helping, but the girl seemed to have vanished. No one could figure out what happened. And then Gally found the note on his desk that simply read, ‘“I love you ~J.” His breath caught in his throat, mind racing to connect the dots as he came to the conclusion,

“She went into the Maze to end her life.” Alby just stared at Gally, not moving, and the boy grew impatient, grunting angrily, “Fine! I'll go after her myself!” Before anyone could stop him, Gally rushed into the Maze.

Jaelin, who'd retreated to the tallest tree in the Deadheads in an attempt to be alone, didn't become aware of what was happening until she heard the screams of a stung Glader being rushed to a Med-hut. As a Med-jack, she was supposed to be there. The girl found herself rushing there as fast as possible in order to find out who the unlucky sting victim was.

When Jaelin saw Gally thrashing against his bonds on a medical cot, her heart stopped.

Her first thought was that as a Builder, Gally never should have been in the Maze. So why the hell had he gone into the Maze?

She got her answer when the boys surrounding Gally saw her and gave varying exclamations of,

“Jaelin!”

“Where were you?”

“We've been looking for you!”

Jaelin was confused by this, questioning their concern about her whereabouts with a quick explanation as to where she was, confused and shocked when Newt cussed loudly.

“Will someone tell me what's going on and why Gally got stung?” the girl pleaded. Of course, the answer was not one she expected—or wanted—to hear.

“He was trying to find you,” Minho said flatly. “Found your note, convinced himself it was a suicide note, and ran into the Maze.” Jaelin's jaw dropped, hands coming up to cover her mouth as guilt started to toss and turn in her stomach.

“So why'd you leave a note like that if you weren't going to kill yourself?” Newt snapped. Jaelin winced, knowing this was a touchy subject for the second-in-command. “Jaelin, that's basically the exact note I left Alby, and Gally was here, then, remember?”

“It was a love confession!” Jaelin spat out, embarrassed to admit to it, given the circumstances, especially. “I didn't think of the similarities to Newt's note, so I'm sorry about that, but honestly, it was just a love confession. If he'd flipped it over, he would've seen that it said, ‘If you feel the same, meet me at the tallest tree in the Deadheads.’”

“So you aren't going to commit suicide?” Alby clarified.

“No!” Jaelin exclaimed, walking over to Gally's side sorrowfully. “It's not even an option. I stick with you guys.”

A look of relief passed over the faces of all the boys in the room, despite the circumstances. Jaelin ignored this, too guilty to think of anyone but Gally.

He'd stopped thrashing, instead trapped in his own head, trying to separate nightmares from memories, which is difficult when most of your memories are as horrific as nightmares. Jaelin was able to loosely clap his right hand in both of hers, his hands significantly larger than hers.

“No!” Startled, Jaelin looked down at the boy, who was still trapped in his mind, obviously recalling something awful, because he was whimpering and murmuring phrases like “It hurts” and “Please stop.” Jaelin felt her heart fracture slightly, once again overwhelmed by the thought that this was her fault. It was only made worse when the tears started leaking from Gally's eyes and rolling down his face, sobs becoming more pronounced. The words he'd been muttering became unintelligible, drowned out by his cries.

There he was, Jaelin's strong rock, crying in the middle of the Med-hut.

The girl felt her own eyes start to water at the pained noises coming from Gally's mouth, unable to imagine how much physical and mental pain he was in. Gally's eyes flew open, blue orbs finding her chestnut brown ones, before he screamed,

“Stop! Make it stop!” When he broke down into sobs again, it became clear that he'd been reliving a memory verbally, Jaelin still unable to do anything more than hold his hand and whisper reassuring comforts, placing a cool compress on his forehead to combat his raging fever.

Jaelin used a rag to gently wash Gally's face, removing the tear stains on his cheeks. His tan skin was flushed pink from fever, face breaking out in severe patches of acne from the stress of the Changing. She did her best to treat that, too, even going so far as to wash his hair after his second day, the fever causing extra sweat to find a home in his sandy colored hair. She found herself struggling to leave his side, growing heavy with guilt whenever she tried. So she just stayed by his side, holding his hand, for five days.

“Jae?” came a raspy cough on the afternoon of the fifth day. The girl immediately woke up from where she'd dozed off in the chair next to Gally's bedside.

“Gal? You're back?” she asked, excited but tentative.

“Yeah,” he answered, “I think it's over.” Jaelin let out a sigh of relief, only hesitating for a second before leaping onto cot with Gally to give him the biggest hug she could.

It was Newt, however, not Jaelin, who explained the note and everything that had happened, Jaelin unable to find it within herself to explain again.

When Newt told Gally the vital piece of information he'd missed—Jaelin’s note was a love confession—the boy gasped, a dopey smile landing on his face as he muttered,

“Can you get Jaelin for me?” From the look on his face, Newt assumed the boy returned Jaelin's feelings, but this was confirmed without a doubt when Jaelin walked to Gally's bedside, unable to make eye contact out of nervousness, and Gally whispered, “Jae, look at me.” The girl obeyed, warm brown eyes meeting Gally's deep blue ones. Before Jaelin could say a word, Gally reached up and cupped her face in his hands before guiding her lips to his in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

It was a ‘finally’ kiss, symbolizing two kids finding love against all odds in a place resembling utter hell. And so when Jaelin pulled back for air, a surprised look still frozen on her face, Gally confessed,

“I've had the biggest crush on you for fucking ever.” Newt clucked his tongue, leading Gally to revise his statement. “Sorry, I've had the biggest crush on you for shucking ever.”

Jaelin's face broke into a wide, ecstatic smile. “Really?”

“Yes, Jae, for real,” Gally chuckled.

This was all it took for Jaelin to full-on leap into Gally's arms, the medical cot shifting in protest at the sudden addition of weight. The two teenagers didn't seem to notice or care, too set on colliding with the other's lips again to worry about something so trivial as the integrity of the cot. Jaelin's lips, chapped from nervous biting and dehydration, found Gally's, which were surprisingly soft, mouths brushing in romantic, teasing kisses before she pressed her lips firmly to his, unable to resist the promise of making out with her long time crush.

A low whistle caused Gally and Jaelin to pull apart for a second, observing Minho's triumphant stance in the doorway as he crowed, “Knew it!” Rolling their eyes, the two lovesick Gladers went back to exchanging kisses, all tears from days prior forgotten.

The fourth and final time Gally cried in the Glade was when Jaelin died. More specifically, when Jaelin went crazy and then stabbed herself to death.

Everyone swore they didn't see it coming—didn't expect the self destructive desires in her head to win—but every single one of them was lying. They'd all seen Jaelin start to spiral. But none of them had known how to help her and so, like the cowards they were, they left the girl to sink or swim.Gally hated every single one of them now, himself included.

Jaelin's role as a Med-jack meant that she didn't have one continuous work day, like with the other jobs. Rather, once she finished her daily tasks, she was free until someone called for a Med-jack. She spent lots of time with Gally while he built, and otherwise hung out in the Deadheads to journal. This solitude was good for her—but it ended up being her downfall.

She spent too much time alone with her thoughts, and it made her go insane.

Gally had been working on a building project when it all happened, Jaelin's screams in the middle of the Glade drawing everyone's attention. Gally immediately hurried down the ladder, dropped his tools, and sprinted towards Jaelin, who was holding a knife up to ward off Newt and Alby's attempts to talk her down.

“Jaelin, put the knife down and we can talk about this,” Newt reasoned, Gally falling into place beside the Second-in-Command.

Jaelin's eyes flickered to Gally's for half a second before she turned back to Newt and spat, “No, I won't. I hate it here.” Gally winced as Alby interjected,

“Why do you hate it here?” Jaelin scoffed.

“Why don't I hate it here? I'm stuck in a Glade, surrounded by a Maze filled with monsters, with only guys as company, harboring that knowledge that if at any point you all turned on me together, I'd be powerless to stop it.” Jaelin's chest heaved with emotion as the knife she held in front of her shook.

“We won't turn on you,” Gally insisted firmly, but Jaelin's eyes just flashed,

“Until you do. Until you're all so desperate that you gang up on me and grab me and rape me until I bleed out and die.”

Alby's jaw dropped, Newt shuddered, and Gally's eyes started to water.

“What?” Jaelin screeched. “It'll happen and you know it!” Gally took a step forward, hands outstretched as if to seem unthreatening, but Jaelin screamed again, so he backed away.

“Have you been stung, Jaelin?” Alby asked bluntly, earning a dry chuckle from the girl.

“No, Alby. I'm very much in my right mind at the present. I'm a Realist. I'm thinking realistically.”

Gally shook his head, unable to keep quiet now. “No, Jae! This isn't realistic. And you can't do this. I love you too much, remember?” He got choked up as the first tear slid down his cheek. “I can't survive without you.”

Jaelin's eyes grew cold, “Then die, too.” The girl stabbed the knife into her stomach.

“No!” Gally screamed, floodgates bursting open as Jaelin let a pained yell, yanking the knife out of her body before stabbing again, this time a little further up. “Stop!” Gally begged the girl, who let out some kind of agonized shriek-cackle, her face a confusing mix of defeat and triumph.

As if she was winning and losing at the same time.

She'd stabbed herself at least five times now, blood gushing from seemingly small cuts. Jeff and Clint had rushed over quickly, but she was crazed enough that no one could get close enough to subdue her. Gally tried, but got pulled back by Frypan and Winston right before Jae's knife would have slashed his carotid artery. The blood was coming too fast, anyway. She'd already lost too much.

The girl's grip went slack, the knife sliding out of it in time to hit the ground with her body. She immediately went still, sprawled across the ground, Jeff and Clint hurrying to try and save her, but it was too late. It was only a few minutes later when they got up solemnly, Jeff whispering, “I'm sorry.” Clint practically collapsed into his arms, both boys starting to sob as the death of their fellow Med-jack became real.

Gally stood staring at Jaelin's body numbly for a few moments before trudging over to her still form. He cradled it in his arms so gently that it surprised some of the other Gladers, but he didn't care. All he knew was that the love of his life had just died. Had wanted to die. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead before tilting his head up to the sky and, without warning, letting out a long, loud, anguished bellow.

“Fuck you!” he screamed at the Creators of such a hellhole; such a nightmare. No one had the strength to chastise him for cussing, not even Newt. Then he broke down in pained, heartbroken sobs again, the ache in his chest akin to a thousand splinters driving their way into every vital organ.

Without Jae, part of him—a large part of him—wanted to die, too. And that part grew and grew, slowly taking over until it was almost the only thing left. It ate away at this once untouchable boy, stripping him of his defenses and hope.

The next time he cried, he was barely even Gally anymore; just WCKD's puppet with Gally's face. He had lost the ability to fight their sick programming, and now, it had taken over. No, Gally wasn't truly living that last time he cried.

Without Jaelin, Gally would never truly live again. After all, when you give someone your heart, you place your life in their hands. And so when Jaelin died, Gally did, too.

Two rivers, running dry.

the end

#gally tmr #gally one shot #the maze runner #tmr fanfic #tmr one shot #gally angst #gally x oc #gally x original character #angst with a sad ending #fanfiction #tmr angst #i write depressing stories #oc goes insane and i love it #will poulter #jasmin savoy brown #the scorch trials #the death cure #movie alby is superior #literally so sad

[funnyexel]

Second Chance

Gally x Black Female Reader

A/n: I feel like this whole story is a little rushed but it’ll do. I think I did pretty well. As always requests are open and I’d love to hear any feedback from you all.

Masterlist Mega List

The hot water of the shower bouncing off your skin and easing your muscles. The sand that stuck to your sweat washing off easily as the soap washed off your body. Bubbly thoughts clouding your consciousness as you fall into a deep daydream. “Y/n, serious question.” You smiled to him and nod, wanting him to continue. “What do you think of the new greenie?” He looks at you. The starlight, placing a soft glow on his features. “I think he’s confused and brave. Heavy on the confused part though.” He chuckles at you, humming to agree with your words. “Y/n!” You snap out the distant memory. Clearing your throat, you turn off the water and rap the towel around your body. Opening the curtain, you see Teresa and stop in your tracks. Staring into her soul, you push past her and go change. You didn’t have a good feeling about her or this place. Then again good feelings are hard to come by these days. The man that showed you around eyed you differently then the others, maybe you were seeing things but it made something crawl up your spine. 

No one else thinks the situation is sketchy but you and you’ll stick by it. Running on the treadmill next to Minho, you looked around for some type of clue to what this place is. It obviously isn’t some kind of sanctuary. The air between you and Minho was kind of awkward but that was because of him. Yeah he did put a spear through your recent ex-boyfriend’s chest but he was infected. What else was he going to do? Talk to him like you tried to do. Looking back on the situation, you often wonder how the others don’t tease you for the ridiculous actions. Trying to talk to an infected, how idiotic of you. You and Minho were going at the same speed, both knowing you can go faster but its kind of hard given nothing is trying to kill you. The blood works was most gruesome for you. It hurt like hell. The others didn’t feel anything but a pinch. Although for you it felt like it was something deeply rooted inside you, as if you had a fear of it before. 

Finally, all the tests ceased and you sat with your friends at the lunch table. Poking at the food, you were skeptical. “Y/n, its not poison.” Newt tilts his head in your line of vision and takes a bite of his food. “See.” He says with a mouth of food. Pushing his face away playfully, you crack a little smile. Taking a spoon full, you slowly chew it and swallow. “don’t worry, I know this place is a little off too.” He whispers, reassuring your unspoken speculations. Turning to look at him, you are intrigued on what he will say. “we’ll have to see what happens next.” Nodding to him, you silently agree.

The three dudes in front of you, told you their story of getting rescued. If only that was the case for you. Long useless conversation short, everyone has been here for a matter of days except for the boy in the corner, he’s supposedly been here for a week. Maybe the conversation wasn’t totally useless but it was certainly long. If its a safe haven then why have they just started saving people? It looks like the structure has been up for a long time. These are the questions some of the runners have to ask themselves. It might be the feeling of safety that completely astray’s them from the action but nothing is easily given in this world. Absolutely nothing. The oddest thing here wasn’t the medical team or the dozens of armed men, it was the random calling of people to go to some sort of safe haven. Total crap to you.

Getting assigned to your rooms, you break away from the boys and bunk with some girls. You didn’t know them so you kept to yourself. They offered to take you with them in a plan to escape but you declined, not wanting to leave your fellow runners behind. You wrote this out to them and wished them luck. That night you slept pretty good. Because he was all you could dream about. The way he touched you, kissed you, smiled at you, talked, laughed and loved you. Sometimes you regret what you said to him and you do wonder if he ever felt the same. What you would do to get to say “I love you” to him one last time.

Walking in your designated area to meet up with your friends, visions of him crept into your mind and haunted you. Looking to the side you could have sworn he was there, but then again how could you be so sure? This place is daunting, the secrets it holds that give you the shivers. At this point you could care less what your friends thought of you, mentally you cannot take being here anymore. Your body softly collides with another, in an attempt to stop yourself from crashing into them. You bumped into Janson, the person in charge is what everyone assumes. “Hey, watch where you’re going. Be careful.” You nod to him and he leaves. When you got to the table it seemed like Thomas came to his senses. Preaching to the table about his encounter with Harris last night.

If only you could speak. If only you could find the strength in your trauma infected mind to utter a word. All you could do is watch as Thomas tried to push past a guard. Sometimes you wonder what goes on in his head and by the looks of it Newt wonders too. But all actions are for a reason and later on you find out that it was all for a key card, which played a part in your ground breaking escape. You and Minho were unsurprisingly the only ones who grabbed a bag of supplies before leaving the compound. Luckily you got a gun and two rounds of bullets. Keeping it with you all the way to the right hand. Or what you thought was the right hand. Your face says all as you dangle by your feet. “Don’t give us that look. You came too.” Newt says and you simply roll your eyes.

Performing massive sit ups to grab your ankles. Steadily, you take the knife out your shoe and begin to cut your rope. Only cutting half way. Dropping down gives you momentum, you continue to swing your upper body until your whole body is swinging. Listening to the rope closely, its about to rip off. Putting all your energy into the last two swings, the rope rips off and you grab onto the railing. The blood rushing back into your body, making you slightly dizzy and one of your hands losing its grip. Looking down, your nerves kick in, helping you pull yourself up and release your idiots of a friend group. When Gally told you everyone’s not your friend you didn’t believe him then, but now you see what he means. One organization destroyed, demolished because of one girl. A girl that you didn’t like from the beginning.

You all began to slowly build up the organization once again. Relocating and planning. You were chilling in the corner when they came back from their rescue mission. Creating ruckus as per usual, it did eventually get calmed down. The radio alerted them that WICKED was close, quickly you help turn the lights off and stay still. Turning on the lights, they fix the small argument and you pull Thomas aside. Looking at him you try to find a way to express your thoughts to him in a small amount of words. “Be patient. We have the cure.” You say lowly to him. He looks at everything we helped built and nods. “I’ll try.” He turns to leave but you grab his shoulder giving him a look then letting him go. Rolling your eyes, you go to your quarters. Walking through the open hall, you turn the corner and open your room door. Passing the first bed then collapsing on yours. You huff and lay your whole body on the bed, kicking off your shoes in the process. Getting comfortable on the bed as you relax, you doze off.

“Gally?” You peek your head around the corner where Alby and Gally talked. He hums in response. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” He looks back to Alby and Alby gives him a nod, taking his leave. “Sure, what is it?” He says motioning you to come up to him, trading places with Alby. “I have a bad feeling about her…Teresa.” His brows furrow as he takes in what you’re saying to him. “I-It’s not because she’s a girl, I just have a bad gut feeling about her. But I don’t want to seem weird. I didn’t know who else to tell. Maybe I’m just being paranoid-” He puts his hands on your shoulders instantly calming your hyper nerves. “Calm down.” He says in a firstly manner and you nod. “If you have a feeling, you stick to it. Okay?” You slowly nod and quicken as you become sure of yourself. “I have a bad feeling about her too.” He whispers to you as he looks around making sure no one else is there.

Turning over your eyes continuously flutter open then closed, your mind was fighting with the starry night of reality and the concrete walls of dreadful memory. “Why shouldn’t I run out those gates right now?!” You yell quietly to him, trying not to let the remainder of the glades hear you. “You and I both know that will solve nothing. It’s the greenie’s fault!” You roll your eyes at him. “Greenie this! Greenie that! Did you ever stop and think that maybe we should’ve been trying to escape instead of making a home here? I stayed after I mapped out the maze because you wanted me to. Hell! I even thought about having a family here.” His eyes widen. “What?” You nodded your head and continued. “But here isn’t the place for a family. Here is not the place to raise a child! I for one realize that now. So, you’re either coming with me or I’m leaving you.” His fists clenched at his sides. “You’re leaving me, huh. Leaving me here or in general?” He takes a few steps forward.

“You pick. I’m not being with someone who likes being stuck in a cage.” You look him in the eyes. “Fine.” Your eyebrows scrunch together. “Fine!” Turning to leave, he grabs your shoulder. “Y/n, did you ever love me at all?” You take offense to the question and spin back around. “Did I ever love you? Is that even a question. Yes, I do. Your point?” He shakes his head. “If you loved me, you’d stay. You’d see where I’m coming from and you’d agree.” You roll your eyes. “You are so closed minded, Gally! The least you can do is love me and leave me but no, you have to manipulate me too. I am fed up of this! I wanna see the outside! I’m tired of day in and day out seeing fucking concrete! I know a way out and I’m sticking to it! Now, are you coming or not!?” He lets go of your shoulder. “I’m not coming with you. I’m not going to risk my life with a bunch of idiots like you. And on a hunch at that!”

“You are such a fucking joke! Can’t you just open your eyes for once and see that its not safe here. Please. Gally I don’t want to leave you. I want us to make it out.” You reach for his hand but he slaps it away. “No, y/n! I’m not coming with you. You were talking so big but now look at you so small. A griever will eat that up.” You scoff. “Fuck you!” You slap him in the face. “Right back at you. I’m not gonna stop you. Go get killed for all I care.” That was your breaking point. All those nights when you were scared about dying in the maze meant nothing to him. When he reassured you that nothing would happen to you and if anything he’d jump in the maze to find you, meant nothing. This engulfed your thoughts like wildfire. “I hate you. I hate you! You’re so damn selfish!” You hit him in the chest multiple times, tears unwillingly falling down your cheeks. In the silence, you held on tightly to his shirt as your head hung down. As his hands grabbed onto yours, you released his shirt and pushed him away. You were clearly hurting, your eyes puffy, tears non-stop flowing. You knew what you should’ve said but you refrained from saying it.

Completely waking up, you curl up to hug yourself. “I love you, gally…” You say, nothing above a whisper for only you to hear. Sitting up, you wipe the sweat off your forehead. Brenda stood a few steps from the bed, probably planned on waking you up. “I’m ok.” You hesitate, before she could’ve said anything and she was shocked. You could tell she wanted to console you but you don’t want anyones’ sympathy, it’ll just make you cry. Her eyes go wide as she watched you put on your shoes and leave the room. Sighing as you run your hand through your braids. It was a break of character for sure. You pulled it together for the day ahead. Heading to the wreaked city to get help making your way past the walls to rescue Minho. Somehow, they managed to get you all kidnapped. “Kick the door, you take left and I’ll take the right.” You nod to Winston, adrenaline pumping from the take down of the two guards in the van. Gun in hand, the van comes to a stop and you follow his lead. But he didn’t just kick the door he launched himself at it. Knocking over a man that was opening the door but you still backed him up nonetheless.

You froze when your eyes locked, even with your gun pointed directly at him. The others stepped out the van and their voices muffled in the background. At the same time you both looked away and he defused the debacle. Situating the group and voicing your reasons for being here in the first place, it came time to sleep. Sitting peacefully in Thomas and Newts room, you massage your forehead. “Well? Are you going to talk to him?” You shrug to Thomas. As if on queue someone knocks on the door and you all share a look. Opening the door, Gally stands before you. “Let me talk to you.” You sigh and leave with him. Walking down a hall, you enter his room. Sitting on a chair, he leans on a table next to you. “You’re not going to say anything.” He says quietly. “No reaction? No nothing?” You exaggerate a huff at his questions. “What I said was in the heat of the moment. I didn’t mean it.” That triggered you. “yes…you did.” You hesitate your words but look him in the eyes. “it came from deep down.” You push him in the stomach. “I was afraid. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to leave, so I needed to say something to keep you even if it scared you. But it did the opposite and I should’ve known better. I regret it.” He kneels down in front of you.

“When I was recovering, all I could think about were the words I said to you last. That’s not how I wanted things to end.” Looking down to him choked you up. Biting back tears, you sobbed finally letting them fall. “I don’t hate you. I’m sorry.” You say between breaths while wiping the tears. “I know. Its my fault, you were right.” He lifts you out the chair to hug you. Shoving your head into his chest, you return the hug. “w-when I saw you…with the spear in your chest I felt, so sick. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.” You get the words out that you’ve been holding in for so long. Pondering the 3 words in the back of your head that you know you should say as you look up to him. “I love y-“ Its crazy how you both were thinking the same thing, talking over each other accidentally. “I love you, Gally.” You exclaim, wholeheartedly. Opening his mouth to respond, he closes them and closes his eyes. You watched as he leaned down, kissing you. Parting his lips slightly for a sweet lip-lock. “I love you too, y/n.” He utters against your lips. “I won’t leave you ever again. No more fighting, we’ll work things out.” You squeeze onto him tighter. “Your hunch, was it right?” He leans to the side to see your face. “Hunch? Teresa.” You show visual distaste. “yeah, it was right.” You sigh, your words coming back to you slowly.

Sitting you down with him on the chair, Gally asks more questions. “How come you stopped talking? If you want to tell me.” You smile to his words. “every time I tried to speak after I saw you I felt so sick. so I stopped. In my mind I was feeling responsible and guilty for that.” You sigh, rubbing your hands together and a tear unknowingly running down your cheek. Wiping the tear away for you, he speaks. “Can I tell you something?” You nod, adjusting yourself in his lap. “I went into the maze because I chose to, don’t feel guilty because of what I decided to do. Y/n, I want to leave the maze behind. We’re out and you’re okay, that’s what matters to me.” You hum, agreeing. “I’d like to leave it behind too.” You went through with the mission to save Minho. Mission accomplished including mass destruction but you counted it as karma so it doesn’t matter. The plan to the island worked, enough people gathered and the boat was ready. Gally had a spot on the island with you and everyone knew it. A lifetime of suffering finally put to an end. Now all that was left to do was live.

“where should I put these?” You ask Gally as you enter your cozy living space. He was looking over a few things outside the home. “On the bed is fine, it’ll be cold tonight.” Doing as told, you set them down and climb into bed, already in your pajamas. “Do you think that here is a good place to raise a kid?” He watched as your eyes went wide before he turned off the light. You both recently started having sex again, you couldn’t pin point where it came from. It hit you as he laid next to you, what you said to him all that time ago. “Yes it is. Why? Are you trying to impregnate me?” You put a little teasing in your tone. “Not unless you want me too.” He rubs on your stomach and flips you over to spoon you. “Give it 2 years, when everything is settled and set in stone.” You tell him and he kisses your cheek, smiling into it. “2 years and I’ll get my baby.” You chuckle at him. Your eyes growing heavy and your body relaxed as you fall asleep. Two years passed by so fast and that was the intention. All the construction for the housing finally finished and other buildings were almost done. What better time to start parenthood than now. You were going to tell Gally but you‘re sure he’s been counting down the days since you told him.

“Its been two years.” He says, looking over all the things built as you sit together on your porch. “I realized.” You fight a laugh, knowing where this’ll lead. “The house is done and we have a second room.” He turns to you. “Yes, we can try for a baby.” You make good with your promise, giving him confirmation with what he’s been egging at. He smiles from ear to ear, a rare sight even for you. Bringing you inside, he locks the door and closes the curtains for ultimate privacy. “So, how do you want to do this? Make love?” The corner of your lip curves at his eagerness. “I don’t want to fuck to make a kid. I mean we can but not for the first time we try. Show me why you love me.” As you spoke, he was coming towards you and on instinct you backed up. Inevitably hitting a wall. “I can do that. No problem.”

#gally fanfic #gally x y/n #gally x you #tmr gally #tmr oneshot #tmr angst #black women #black girl magic #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #the maze runner #the maze runner trilogy #y/n #black girls matter #shit post #i love gally #will poulter

[binzlovenicetingz]

Heyy, can I request a will poulter imagine since you do fanfics for 🧍🏾‍♀️. Ig a long distance scenerio that as lot of angst but end in either fluff,smut or angst I’m down for anything. I’m just thankful for a poc writer honestly 😭

Imagine you are in a relationship with Will but both of your work schedules are pushing you further apart. The distance begins to cause a strain on your relationship, leading to a fight that might end your relationship..or is it?

warning: 18+ only, language, smut, oral(f receiving), unprotected smut(wrap it before you tap it), you said you were down for anything lol, established relationship, slight angst, no beta reading cause I'm a thug, y/n is a black reader but woc/poc are welcomed🤎

You and Will rarely fight.

Sure, you two have had disagreements but those never escalated further. There's no yelling or backhanded comments, if anything, you both learned very easily on in the relationship that you both hated going to bed angry and always made it a point to talk out your problems together and come to a peaceful resolution.

So why haven't you heard from him in over a week?

The last conversation ended in a heated fight over FaceTime. It was going on close to a year since you last saw each other in person - not like it wasn’t anything that you two weren’t used to but this time around, your schedules made it damn near impossible to even call, especially being in different time zone.

You didn't want to admit it but it was hard - and as you lay in your hotel room, you couldn't stop the ache that's been slowly building in your chest. You hated fighting with Will and especially hated it had you questioning you own relationship but it felt like you were the only one trying!

Will joining Marvel and becoming apart of the MCU was a big deal and you couldn’t of been any more prouder of him than you already were. He was working hard, you knew that, but you still couldn’t help but feel a little neglected and when there was finally a free week in your schedule, you made sure to tell him.

It was only a week and you missed your boyfriend like crazy, so you were going to make it work. That was until he broke the news to you, reshoots. You were hurt, crushed really, and from the other side of the screen, you could tell he was too. It wasn’t Will’s fault, you knew that but couldn’t hide the sadness anymore. You let it out, and in turn, he rightfully defended himself. Looking back on it now, it was a stupid fight but in that moment, you angrily ended the call and turned off your notifications for the night.

'A few days to cool off is needed' you thought to yourself on set but before you knew it, one day turned into three and soon enough you were in your hotel room getting ready. You had glanced down at your phone, thinking about shouting a text first but your pride wouldn't let you and with a new reason to be upset all over again, you left the room and got your Uber.

It was the wrap-up party for a mini-series you were working on with HBO or should you call it Max? You didn’t know and frankly tonight, you didn’t really care, the only thing on your mind was Will. You scan the room as cast and crew mingled about. You should be celebrating with them, enjoying completing a project you spent years writing and having a great team to back it up but right now, you just wanted to be alone.

Stepping out to the private balcony, you breathed in the summer night before taking in the view. The restaurant that production rented out allowed you a decent view of the skyline and enough height to see people walking below or coming to dine in and as you people watch for a split second, a familiar figure just down the street looking slightly lost.

"Will?" you squinted, getting a better look and seeing that it was in fact, Will, and you quickly called out to him before finally getting his attention.

"Surprise!" He shouted and you tried to stop the smile from growing on your face but you couldn't help it.

"What are doing here?"

"Surprising you!"

You didn't have much to say after that, all the anger and pent-up frustration all but faded and you wanted nothing more than to ditch this party and spend it with him.

So you did.

On the way back to your hotel, Will let it slip that you had to bride your assistant to give him the location and when you asked why he didn't just call you, Will sheepishly pulled out his cracked open, scratching the back of his head. "Kinda messed around and broke my phone on set the other. I had my manager book my flight and everything."

You could of swoon.

It was quiet as you enter your hotel room, Will shut the door behind him as he watches you carefully. He doesn't know why, but he felt nervous, maybe it was because this was the first time you'd been in the same room in close to a year.

"So, um I-"

"Listen, baby, I'm-"

You both rush to speak, smiling slightly as some of the tension leaves the room. Will stepping closer until he was sitting next to you and naturally, you lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." You whisper softly, not wanting to break this bubble.

A sigh leaves his lips, "I should be the one apologizing, Y/n.

"Can we just agree that this fight was super dumb and forget it happen?" you glance up at him smiling softly at you as he pulls you closer.

"Forget about what?"

You chuckle, shaking your head slightly. "And thank you for coming all the way here too, it really means a lot."

Will places a gentle kiss against your forehead before pulling back slightly as he takes in your beautiful features. "I really was trying to surprise you."

A smile graces your lips, "and you did surprise me, really."

"Maybe I should get a reward for my brilliant plan."

"And what kind of reward were you looking for?"

"Hmm, a kiss should suffice."

You were giggling now, "I think I should be the one asking for a kiss."

Will quirks a brow, an amused smirk playing on his face as he shifts in his seat before easily pulling you onto his lap. "Really now?"

You innocently nodded your head before letting out a playful sigh, "Yeah, I was left all alone, broken-hearted and sad-" a surprised yelp leaves your lips as your easily picked up and tossed over Will's shoulder without even a second thought, yelping again when you feel his hand give your ass a quick slap before he places you on the bed, lips meeting in a kiss that quickly turned heated.

The dress and heels you wore were taken off with ease but you couldn't say the same for your panties which were practically torn from your body and Will's lips kissing down your body until he reaches your wet center.

The sounds that tumbled out of your pretty mouth had him groaning into your core, earning another whine and buck of your hips to meet his hungry mouth.

"Yes, p-please ahh, more!" you begged as your fingers tangled into his hair and tugged on his roots. You were already sensitive from being pent up for so long that you felt everything he was doing to your pussy; his flattened tongue rubbing over your throbbing bud before wrapping and sucking on your clit as his finger pumped into your sobbing core. You were breathless and started feeling way more exposed than you even realized getting lost in the feeling of his mouth and feeling the heat rushing from your ears down to the tip of your toes that it takes you a few seconds to realize that Will stopped his movements.

You quickly tug at the end of his shirt, "You got too many clothes on." Will chuckles, sitting up between your parted thighs and easily discarding his shirt as you take him all in.

"Better?" He asked but you quickly shook your head and he caught on quickly, getting out of his jeans and briefs, and you were finally blessed with seeing his harden length after so long you could cry. You were just reaching for it when his much larger hand stop yours, "Later, darling, I really need to be inside you right now."

You could see the neediness in his eyes, stroking his cock at just the thought of finally being inside you were breaking his cool, and honestly, you didn't want to wait anymore either. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as your legs spread for him. The tip of his cock brushes against your dripping folds and you can't help but moan, raising your hips to catch more friction. That's when he eases into you, both gasping at the stretch that had your walls already squeezing him in more.

"So tight," Will groans, his face buried in your neck that his breath tickles your skin, raising goosebumps. He eases into you some more and your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back as your nails dig into his back but he doesn't seem the least bit fazed from the marks you were giving him while you try to keep your wits end.

Will soon pulls back, his large hands traveling down your quivering body until he's pushing your thighs back unable your knees are touching your chest in a gasp but he doesn't stop his thrust. His eyes flickering lower to watch his cock sink deeper into your wet pussy, the slick sounds coming from your tight was starting to drive him mad.

"Fuck, I might just cum right now," he whines, his cock hitting your spot just right you were starting to see stars. "you're so good to me, baby. so pretty taking my cock, yes!"

He usually wasn't this vocal but you weren't complaining, responding back in whimper and moans since you feel your brain turning to mush when he slows his pace but thrust deeper.

Will drinks in your appearance. You look so beautiful with your face contorted with pleasure, your eyes half closed and your glossed lips parted with sweet-sounding moans, and the louder you got, the more tempting the thought of fucking you all night was in the stars. He closed the gap between the two of you and kissed you. It was hungry and messy with all tongue and teeth. The hand that wasn't on your tit moved to your clit, rubbing quick circles on your swollen nub.

You clamped around him even tighter feeling his hand and with the way you were moaning into his mouth, he knew you were going to cum and he wasn't far behind either. Your fingers tangled in his hair once you broke the heated kiss, forehead touching

"That's it, baby, cum for me. Cum all over my cock." He strokes deeper, leaving you panting more as you dig your nails into his shoulders, and from the low hiss leaving his lips, you're sure you broke skin this time but you didn't care, not when your eyes fluttered shut, body shooked underneath him as your orgasm ripped through you in waves after waves. "C-Cumming! I'm cumming!" His pace was unrelenting, giving your more deep thrust until he buried his cock deep inside you, flooding your tight walls with his cum.

It was quiet aside from you two catching your breath. He gently drops your legs as he steadies himself on one arm, he uses his other hand to caress your cheek, your eyes meet his gaze a soft smile grew on both your faces.

"I love you."

"I love you too, more than you'll ever know."

You and Will rarely fight but when you do, you two are always making up in the end.

@penny44224

#will poulter #will poulter x black reader #will poulter x reader #will poulter smut #will poulter imagine #will poulter fic #black reader #woc imagine #black reader imagine

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter eleven

summary: you receive bad news, but luca is there for you. and it seems like he's intent on continuing to be there for you.

warnings: angst, grief, death, vomiting, fluff, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 3.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist (specifically 'how to mend a broken heart' - al green & 'love' - kendrick lamar; another very will poulter-coded choice)

a/n: pov: it's me warning you that there is in fact angst but trust, babes. trust. after the trauma of meeting donna b in season 2, i wanted to explore characters who had positive relationships with their mothers. so if you have not picked up on it yet, this story is also about mothers **cries because it's too damn sweet. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part ten | masterlist | part twelve

Astrid: Hey give me a call when you’re up. 

I don’t want to worry you, but we need to talk. 

Your fingers hurriedly move to open up the multiple missed notifications that you have from her, holding the phone up to your ear so that you can listen to her voicemail next. 

“Hey… I know you’re probably still asleep right now,” you hear, her voice somber, as you listen to Astrid’s voicemail, left for you at three in the morning. “And I know that you’ve got your do not disturb on. But I really need to talk. Call me when you’re up.” 

Your heart pounds in your chest as your mind races with fears over what this could be about, and as your eyes scroll through the other missed notifications, you see something that stops you in your tracks: 

1 Missed Call from Joe

And it all suddenly feels real, a sense of dread fills your throat, and you can only imagine that it must be an emergency if both Astrid and Joe have called. Your mind races. It can’t be about Joe – if he called too, right?

The severity of the situation forces you to sit up straight as you steal a glance Luca’s way. You’re grateful that he’s such a heavy sleeper as you peel the covers back, tiptoeing out into the living room so that you don’t wake Luca. Your fingers shake as they hover over Astrid’s name, before tapping down on the screen so that you can give her a call back. 

It only rings twice before Astrid answers, a tiredness in the way her voice sounds, as if she hasn’t slept all night. 

“Hey, Astrid. What’s going on?” you ask, a panic that colors your voice as you wait for her reply. 

The anticipation builds in every moment of silence she leaves between the two of you. 

“It’s mum. Ehm…” she trails off, her voice breaking. 

No. 

It’s as if your worst nightmare is coming true – like no matter how many times you’ve rehearsed this scenario in your head, prepared for it, braced for it, nothing softens the blow of the words that Astrid utters. 

“She’s gone. She passed. Early this morning,” Astrid finally says, a sob following. “We’re still at the hospital right now.” 

As Astrid begins to cry, you let her, even though you feel like you can’t breathe. Through her tears, she tries her best to explain what happened and you can feel yourself going numb as you listen. You can barely process what she’s saying as the words wash over you, a deep pain building in your belly with each detail she shares: that mum hadn’t been feeling well late last night, that she had a fever of 104 F and that’s when they knew she had to be taken to the hospital, that she passed a few hours later. 

It was sudden. 

It was quick. 

And now, Astrid’s whole world – your whole world, and Joe’s – has changed forever.

All you can do is attempt to breathe, to listen, and try your best not to drop your phone as your hands tremble.

You can feel it, a sickening feeling that wells up from your belly and into your throat as you croak out:

“Astrid, I’m so sorry.”

“After everything we’ve been through, all the rounds of chemo… I just can’t believe that overnight she’s gone,” Astrid whispers, tears falling down her cheeks. “I just-, I thought we’d have more time.”

“I know. Me too,” you agree quietly. 

It doesn’t feel real, and you wonder if you’re just in denial. 

“I’m so sorry to call like this. But I thought you should know,” Astrid apologizes, clearing her throat as she continues. “‘M sure I ruined your high from the all-night shag-fest with the hot pastry chef, now didn’t I?”

You chuckle, in response to her attempt to lighten the mood. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you called,” you reassure her, your voice soft. 

“I’ve got to go. Joe and I are going to try to grab something to eat and ehm, try to get a hold of Lina. I’ll keep you posted on everything. On all the details, you know… about… anything we do,” Astrid informs you, trying her best to pull herself together.  

“But I just wanted you to know and ehm, well, I know Joe called.”

“No, I-. Yeah,” you stammer through, at a loss for words. “I… I’ll give him a call. And thank you… for calling me. Thank you for telling me.”

Astrid nods solemnly, “She loved you like one of us.”

You swallow, as a stream of tears streak your cheeks 

“Yeah I… I love – loved – her too.” 

You clear your throat, unaware that your hands have begun to shake. 

“And please keep me posted. I’d like to be there… at the funeral. If you think it’s appropriate.”

“‘Course,” Astrid agrees. “I love you. Call you later?”

“Please. And… yes,” you say, adding if it’s a promise:

“I love you too.”

As soon as you hang up the phone, it’s as if your body knows something you don’t – like your brain hasn’t quite processed the news, racing your body to intellectualize everything you’ve just heard, so your body has to take over instead. Your stomach flips, and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with the urge to vomit. You sprint to your small apartment bathroom, throwing the toilet seat up with a clang as you begin to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet, in an uncontrollable physical response.

The sound of you retching, coughing up the last of it, seems to wake up Luca. You brace yourself against the toilet, flushing it as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Your body feels fragile and your mind races as you reach behind you for the towel that lays folded over your towel bar, clutching it towards you. 

“My love, is everything alright?” you hear his voice, as Luca stirs, sitting up in bed. 

The sound of his footsteps heading towards you fill your ears, and as they get closer and closer to you, Luca appears in the doorway, his eyes squinting from how jarring of a wakeup he’s just had. You look up at him, noticing the way his face has twisted itself into a look of concern, swallowing as you rack your brain, searching for a way to explain what just happened. 

“Well, the good news is that I’m not pregnant,” is all that comes out, in sheer disbelief that you’ve chosen to make a joke at this moment. Luca only looks more concerned, more worried, more confused, so you shake your head this time, muttering an apology under your breath. “Uh… remember when I told you… my ex’s mom… she got really sick and we had to move to the UK because of it?”

“Yeah,” he answers, unsure of what this has to do with why you’re stuck to the bathroom floor. 

“I-. Astrid, his sister, just called. She uh…” you trail off, because it feels like you can’t get the words out of your mouth – like if you say it out loud, it’d make it all the more real. 

Your voice, this time much somber, croaks out the words, and you feel sick to your stomach again.

“She passed… last night,” you finally say again, a wave of nausea coming over you. 

“Oh, my love,” Luca sighs empathetically, as his heart falls at the news. “I’m so sorry.”

But before he can say anything else, you’re folded over the toilet once more, caught up in a competition with your own body of which could be worse: dry heaving or vomiting. Instead of leaving, Luca takes a few steps towards you, sitting down next to you as he rubs soothing patterns across your back, as you work this out. What feels like forever, and simultaneously, barely a few seconds, your back is pressed against the wall as you try your best to get your heart rate back down. 

The cold floor and the rigid wall that you’ve pressed your back against feels grounding, perhaps the only thing tethering you to this world. Luca sits with you quietly, but his presence can be felt in tonnes. It’s strong, steady, comforting, with care and love in every single touch and touch he sends your way. 

After a few minutes of letting you stare at the wall blankly, Luca gets up, kneeling on his knees as he offers his hands to you. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you some water and back into bed,” Luca suggests. “I’ll call Jesper and Mathilde. Let them know you’re not going in today.”

You nod, sliding both of your hands into his as he helps to your feet. 

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

“How are you doing, babe?” Luca asks you, as you wake up from your nap. 

You’re grateful that he called in today, after the news, and called in for you as well. After your phone call with Astrid, not to mention hurling the entire contents of your stomach (and then some) into the toilet this morning, you’d crawled back into bed and fallen asleep. It hadn’t been great sleep – more so an avoidance mechanism than anything else, you realize – as you begin to come to. 

“Jesper was just here. Came by to drop off food,” Luca adds, as you move onto your side so that you can face him. “They’re worried about you.”

“I’m not hungry,” is all you manage to say. 

He nods, “For later maybe.” 

He pauses, before repeating his question from earlier. 

“How are you doing? What can I do?

You think it over, only slightly upset with yourself for being annoyed at his question. Of course he’s only trying to be helpful, only trying to care for you through this horrible thing. But it’s not like there’s anything he can do to take your pain away either, which, it’s silly you know, is what bothers you so much about his ask. 

But as you look over at the man who wants nothing more than to love you, and you know he’s only trying to be helpful in an unwinnable situation.

You muster up your best smile, because you want to reassure him that you’re sort of-kind-of-okay, and you’d rather try than be a jerk right now. 

“Come back to bed?” you ask him, your voice lifting at the end of the question. “I think I just want you to hold me.”

“Sounds like something that could be arranged,” Luca replies with a smile on his face, in an attempt to lighten up the mood a little. 

As you lay on your side, Luca curls up behind you, engulfing you in his arms as he presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, tangling his legs with yours underneath the covers. And you’re right. It does make you feel better – being held by him – and you’re glad that you chose not to push him away. 

After a few beats, and a thick silence between the two of you, Luca finally speaks again.

“Do you want to tell me about her?”

Do you?

You debate with yourself whether or not you want to, because on one hand you feel weird about it – asking Luca to listen to you talk about how much you loved your ex husband’s mother – and on the other, you’re afraid. 

Afraid it’ll hurt too much. 

Afraid it may break you open. 

Eventually, the part of you that leans towards saying ‘yes’ wins, as you answer with:

“Yeah. I think that might be helpful.” 

Luca nods behind you, before nuzzling his nose into the space between your neck and your shoulders. He leaves soft kisses against your skin that have no intention of being anything but a comforting gesture. 

“Astrid said something on the phone earlier. That she loved me like one of them,” you start, your voice caught in your throat as you say it. 

“And she did. She embraced me as her own… like…” you trail off, chuckling as you recall your favorite memories of Aiko Kimura. 

“She was beyond upset to learn that I didn’t grow up pleating dumplings around the table when I was a kid, which was… I think maybe the first thing we ever cooked together. She pulled out all the stops. Made a huge thing of it and made Joe, Astrid, and Lina join us so that I could get the real family experience.”

“And every time after that… she always wanted to teach me something new, something I could learn, carry with me,” you continue, the memories so fond and the feeling so bittersweet. 

“She was all about… slowing down, using the senses, no-recipe kind of stuff. I think it’s where I got so much of my heart from. In my food.”

You’re really not sure how you’re keeping it together, but, you decide, you might as well lean into the sweetness for now. 

“I should do a dish. For her. At the restaurant,” you declare, coming to the conclusion as the words leave your lips. 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Luca agrees, leaving another soft kiss along your shoulder. 

“To honor her. You know?” you add. 

Luca only hums in response, his arms wrapped around your frame holding you tighter against his chest. 

You wait a beat. 

Then another, your thoughts, moving a mile a minute from being plunged into grief from this devastating loss. 

“I’m nervous – about going to London,” you confess, softly. You like to ask, usually, if it’s okay – if Luca wants to hear about these kinds of things – but it feels virtually unavoidable. 

“I haven’t been back since Joe and I divorced… since I moved here. But I think I should. For the funeral.”

“Do you think it’ll be soon?” Luca asks, as you turn your head to look at him, checking that this is a conversation he’s willing to have. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I’m waiting for Astrid to tell me. But Lina’s, their youngest sister, has been studying abroad – Singapore – so… I don’t know.”

“I’m just nervous… about it all, I guess. A lot’s changed. I’ve… changed.”

At this point you’re just thinking out loud, no longer able to contain the stream of consciousness that flows from with an ease that makes you anxious. 

Of course, you’ve changed. You have a new life here. You’re a you that you’ve never been before, having shed the layers of your past self like a snake shedding its skin. The realization is striking, while your ambivalence to return to your previous home in your new form feels more and more significant. 

It’s Luca’s turn to be quiet as he thinks over whether or not the idea in his head is appropriate to suggest, figuring, the worst thing you can do is say ‘no.’ 

“I could go with you,” he offers, quiet, yet sure. 

Oh. 

“But if you don’t feel like it would be right… under the circumstances…” Luca continues, in fear of making things more complicated for you. 

“No I-. What do you-, like… in what capacity?” you interject, hesitant about the question that you’re bringing up. 

You’re not sure why it’s taken this long for either of you to articulate it, especially since you’ve already called him your boyfriend to your friends, to your mom, but the naming, the voicing of the sacred label is still something you haven’t done. 

You don’t want to overcomplicate things, considering it already feels complicated, so what you’re really asking him is:

How would I introduce you?

“I was thinking… as your boyfriend,” Luca answers, slowly. “But if you think it’s too much – introducing me during this-.” 

“No, I. Yes! I want to,” you’re quick to reply, reassuring him that you’re still all in, even in the midst of this loss – especially in the midst of this loss. You wiggle your body so that you’re now facing him, your chests pressed together, and you wonder if he can feel yours pounding away. 

“Yes. I want you to come. I… I want to introduce you to them… to everyone, as my boyfriend.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Luca leans in to press a short kiss to your lips before nodding in agreement: “Okay.”

You wait a beat, almost as if you think he’ll take it back, considering the circumstances. Only, he doesn’t, so you have to ask. 

“You would really do that?”

“Yeah,” he replies, simply. 

“I mean.. It’s just going to be a lot. It’s… a fucking funeral,” you continue to list, giving him every ‘out’ that you can possibly think of. “And you’d have to meet Joe. Which I can only imagine will be incredibly uncomfortable considering the circumstances and I’m not even sure what to expect because Joe and I have barely talked in months and I-.” 

You know you’re rambling, but you can’t help yourself. 

“Luca, I don’t know if I can ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to, my love. I offered,” he says, as one of his hands cradles your head, his eyes on yours. 

“Plus, I don’t have to be with you the whole time. I know it’s going to be a tough trip for a lot of reasons. I could give you some space while we’re there too, so you don’t feel you have to entertain me. I’ll go see my mum, catch up with a friend….”

His reassurance seems to quell your nerves and you’re no longer panicking (as much) about introducing your people to your new boyfriend while grieving the loss of their matriarch. But you want him there. You so want him there. You want his support, and when he’s so willingly offering it to you, volunteering to enter the lion’s den with you, how can you say ‘no?’

“Why are you so good to me?” is all that comes out of your mouth. 

“Because I-,” Luca begins, pausing as he carefully chooses his next few words. You watch as he debates with himself, his decision clear when he opens his mouth again to say:

“Because you deserve it, babe.”

It’s then and there that you wonder what he was going to say before, half expecting him to say, ‘because I love you.’ 

But he doesn’t, and in some ways, you’re glad that whatever internal decision he made, that it wasn’t that. It’s not that you don’t want him to, because you’ve been feeling it too. It’s in every pause before you hang up the phone with him. It’s in the moments that you say your goodbyes for the morning or the evening that you watch the impulse, though fleeting, flash through his eyes. It’s in the way that you feel it so deeply in your bones that it makes you ache in the best kinds of ways. 

 You don’t want your first ‘I love you’ to be tainted with the grief and sadness surrounding this moment, but it’s been on your mind ever since your trip to Skagen. You think maybe you dreamed it, hearing him call you the love of his life, but whether or not it was real, those three words have hung heavily between the two of you ever since. 

“Thank you,” is all you say, before you repeat it again. 

“Thank you.”

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

Everything feels off. You can’t cry. 

And you’ve tried. 

But ever since Luca left to run an errand, to run to the store, you’ve felt off-kilter. 

Perhaps it’s because you’ve had him to distract you this whole time. 

Perhaps it’s because you’re trying to be strong for everyone: for Astrid, for Lina, who you’ve been texting with all day – trying to coordinate a time to FaceTime – for yourself. 

Perhaps it’s because you haven’t called Joe yet. 

But, you’ve decided, you really need to cry. 

You pick up the phone, knowing exactly what you need to do, knowing exactly who you can let yourself completely fall apart with. 

The phone rings a few times before the person on the other line picks up, and as soon as you hear the silence on the other line, waiting for you to speak first since you called first. 

“Mom?”

And she can hear it in your voice as it breaks, concern and worry filling her every word and she asks: 

“Oh sweetie. What happened?”

And finally, you can let go.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

[nappingtopknot]

Masterlist

Maybe I'll get fancy with this in the future...

Follow along with #Thirst Nights

Fluff-💘

Smut-💦

Angst-🖤

Will Poulter

Blubs:

Valentines Day 💘

Delayed Flight 💘

Praise Kink 💦

Hot and Bothered 💦

Giggly Filth 💦

Relieving Himself (Short) 💦💦

Titanic 💦

Lazy Sundays 💘💦

Secret Crush 💘💦

Thunderstorms 💦

Frustrated Will 💦

Strangers & Alleyways 💦

Rooftops💘

Dubious Consent 💦

Colin x Kitty x Reader 💦

The Awkward Call 💦

Home for the Holidays 💘

Headcanons:

SFW + NSFW 💦💘

Shower Fun 💦

Casual Dates 💘

Thigh Riding 💦

Drunk Will 💘

Drunk Will Part 2 💦

Will x Short Girlfriend 💘💦

Aftercare Will 💘

My Dearest Will

Part 1 🖤

Part 2 (TBD)

Tom Holland

Blubs:

Silent treatment 💘

The way he looks at you 💘

Smut 💦

Got Me Going Crazy 💘

Headcanons:

Cheeky 💘

#will poulter #will poulter x reader #will poulter smut #will poulter imagine #tom holland #tom holland x fem #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #will poulter x you #will poulter blurb #will poulter headcannons #tom holland headcannons #masterlist

[penny44224]

I can please get tagged in Will poulter imagines, smut, fluff, angst. ANYTHING. Especially if it’s the one when he stars in The Bear. Bc tatted up Will has awoken me 😭🧍🏾‍♀️

#will poulter imagine #will poulter #will poulter x reader #the bear

[tom-whore-dleston]

Have you thought about doing A-Z fluff with Adam Warlock? I would love to see it! <3

Pairing ▹ Adam Warlock x f. reader

Genre ▹ fluff

This fic contains ▹ gotg vol. 3 spoilers!, fluff, some angst, jealousy, break-up, mentions of Adam pre-Guardians, lots of domestic shit, Adam being down bad for you, Eros/Starfox from The Eternals makes a guest appearance, lightly beta-ed

Word Count ▹ 2.6k

Notes ▹ I normally don't take requests but I thought this would be a nice exercise to get me back into writing bc it's been a hot minute. Plus, Will Poulter is currently invading my head space after the sexy dream I had of him. Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed! 😊

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) If you could rate how affectionate Adam was on a scale from one to ten, the scale would be broken. He was always hugging, kissing, and holding you. Adam’s love language is physical touch so he’d probably perish if you weren’t in his embrace.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Adam was the first friend you made after arriving at Knowhere. While celebrating the destruction of Counter-Earth and the fall of the High Evolutionary, you found Adam watching you dance. You were drawn to him like a magnet so it felt natural that you approached him, introduced yourself, and pulled him into a dance. He was hesitant because he was unfamiliar with the art of dancing, but fortunately, you were a dancer on your old planet so you taught him how to move to the music.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Of course, Adam is a cuddler! He enjoys being big and little spoons equally, just as long as you were pressed against his body in any kind of way. Cuddles are perfect when Blurp is nestled in the space between your and Adam’s legs.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) He is the most domestic partner you have ever dated, hence why you both work so well together. He loved cooking and cleaning and doing other chores with you. Being next to you and doing mundane things together was one of his favorite things to do with you. Even though he loves the Guardians, Adam pictured what life would be like with just the two of you in your own living space. He wouldn’t bring up the idea until later down the line because he wants to be there for the team as much as he can.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Adam would write you a long, heartfelt letter describing his feelings and why he is ending your relationship. You’d find dried-up tear stains that smeared on the ink from his pen, causing some words to be smudged. You would add to the paper with your own set of tears as you read about all the beautiful memories the two of you made together.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?) Adam would be head over heels for you so he is 100% down to be committed to you and only you. If it were up to him, he’d want to marry you as soon as possible. However, you told him you wanted to wait a little longer before getting married. Adam respected your wishes but he often gets lost daydreaming about how perfect your wedding day would be.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Adam is the definition of a gentle giant. Everyone was initially intimidated by him because of how powerful and destructive he once was. However, once you encouraged the others to give Adam a chance, they realized how gentle and kind he was. Adam knows that you are capable of handling your own and don’t need to be treated so delicately. Yet, that doesn’t stop him from being tender and soft with you. He just doesn’t want to hurt anyone again the way he once did.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Adam doesn’t like hugs. He LOVES them! He will hug you every chance he gets and you are there to reciprocate. His favorite kind of hugs are ones with you and Blurp atop his bed right before you all fall asleep together. All the children from Counter-Earth run up to Adam to give him a hug because he is like a giant teddy bear to them.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Adam would most likely confess his love for you after a month of being together. When he began developing these feelings for you, he sought advice from the Guardians, both former and new. Nebula suggested that he gift you the heart of your worst enemy. After a collection of cringes from the group, Drax advised him to just pull her into a kiss on the battlefield because “she will never see it coming.” The Guardians began shouting and arguing amongst each other over what was the best way Adam should tell you he loves you. Finally, Groot, who was the most silent of the group, told Adam that the best way to win your heart is just to be yourself and let it come out naturally. Rocket almost shed a tear with how proud he was of his friend. Of course, Adam took Groot’s advice and let the words flow naturally. As you both shared a kiss, the Guardians watched you both with warm hearts and smiles on their faces.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Adam doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, he does a poor job of hiding it. After he confessed his love for you, Starfox, an Eternal, stopped by for a visit. Starfox, also known as Eros, was a long-time friend of yours and it got to Adam’s head how close you were to him. You reassured Adam that there was nothing to worry about, but the Eternal’s handsome features and flirty ways made Adam consider otherwise. Adam isolated from you for an entire day, until Eros found him setting a pile of trash on fire. The two Celestials had a heart-to-heart about you and Eros revealed to Adam how enamored you were with Adam.

“Yeah, she talks about you all the time. I’ve never seen her with such joy in the time I have known her.”

“Oh.” Adam felt a pinch of guilt for being so angry with Eros. “I’m sorry for being jealous of you. I’d like for us to be friends if that’s possible.”

“All is forgiven, mate,” Eros grinned, holding his hand out to Adam. “You obviously make her happy so you’re already taken Pip’s spot as my best friend.” With that, Adam shook his hand, beginning the start to another friendship.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Kissing Adam feels like the flowers blooming in the springtime and the leaves falling in the autumn. Every kiss with him is as amazing as the first time. His lips melt against yours like the universe created you both to do so. He loves stooping down to your level to peck you on the forehead or nose. Meanwhile, you love kissing him on his shoulder or his collarbone because it’s the easiest for you to reach. Adam’s favorite way to be kissed by you is on his hand while your fingers are interlaced with his. You would bring your locked hands to your lips before pressing a kiss atop his hand and then nuzzling your cheek against it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Considering the number of kids that reside on Knowhere, he basically treats them as his younger siblings. You love watching the kids play and climb all over Adam as he bursts into fits of laughter. When the children start fighting or crying, he immediately steps in to comfort them or help solve their problems. Seeing how great he is with them makes you think about how amazing of a dad he would be in the future.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Usually, you wake up before he does with your head pressed against his chest. You’d wake him up by peppering kisses over his face and stroking his soft blonde hair. Adam would return the favor with groggy eyes and then do the same to Blurp, who was typically the last to wake up. Your morning routine together always began by turning on some 80s music because it was upbeat and energetic. You would wash your face and brush your teeth before changing into your clothes for the day. After that, you would help yourselves to breakfast. Sometimes, Blurp would need to be fed first otherwise he would beg for the food you were cooking for yourselves.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) If you aren’t on missions across the galaxy, your night routine would be enjoying dinner on a rooftop to admire the stars and planets in the sky. A playlist of love songs would be playing in the background as you conversed and ate. Then, you would share a bath or shower, depending on how tired you both were. Sometimes, you would lose track of time and fall asleep under the night sky with a blanket draped over your body. The Guardians have made attempts to get you back into your beds but gave up when you tossed around and cuddled closer to one another.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Adam doesn’t have much life experience so he shares everything with you all at once. Normally, it would bother you if a partner was an open book right off the bat, but you understood that Adam was a different case. If anything, it made you love him more knowing that you get to grow with him and show him the beauties of the universe.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Adam can be easily angered, depending on the situation. He will never get angry with you and he avoids getting angry in front of you. Yet, you tend to be the one to find him when he is alone and letting out his anger on abandoned items in a secluded area of Knowhere. Conversely, he can easily calm down with you when your hand touches his. You help him with deep breaths and affirmations and his anger is gone.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Adam remembers everything from your mother’s name to your favorite color. On the flip side, he will forget anything that Rocket will tell him, even if it was something important. The Guardians say he has a selective hearing for you because he is so wrapped up in his love for you. Sometimes, you will have to repeat what Rocket says back to Adam because he is more likely to remember important things if you are the one exchanging information with him.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) His favorite memory with you is when you first met. Adam couldn’t help but watch you dance to Florence and the Machine. Even when you laid eyes on him, his gaze was still locked on you. He was grateful you were confident enough to introduce yourself to him and ask him to dance. He was nervous and tripped over his own feet and words, but you didn’t seem bothered at all by it. Having your body against his ignited a fire inside him that he did not know could exist. Little did he know that you were feeling the same exact thing as him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Adam is sooooo protective. Not just of you, but with the Guardians and the citizens of Knowhere. He wasn’t able to protect his mother from her untimely death and he is still haunted by it. So he goes to extreme lengths to protect everyone he loves. He isn’t all that concerned about his own safety because he knows he is powerful enough to protect himself. Adam is the type to make sacrifices for the better of everyone else even if it means getting hurt in the process. At least you are there to tend to his wounds when he is done protecting everyone.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Adam puts a lot of effort into his relationship with you. He is always the first one to sing “Happy Birthday” to you on your birthday and make it a special day for you. The Sovereign will get assistance from Mantis and Drax to set up dates, parties, and gifts for you. This usually leads to Mantis and Drax bickering over what Adam should write on cards or if he should get you candy or stuffed animals. Sometimes, their bickering would be so loud that Adam’s surprises for you would get spoiled because you would be eavesdropping on their conversations. At the end of it all, you loved the lengths Adam went through to make you happy and loved. But you still suggested that Adam seek help from someone other than Mantis and Drax if he wants the surprises to be successful.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) At first, it was cute when Adam had selective hearing/memory for you, but after a while, it became a little concerning. Especially when he would forget stuff regarding missions. You confronted Adam in a gentle way and he agreed to work on his listening skills. He has improved in listening to Rocket, but he still struggles to remember Rocket’s favorite song.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Adam isn’t too concerned with his looks. Perhaps the reason being his young mind hasn’t allowed him to be self-aware of his looks. Either way, he is content with how he looks because appearance doesn’t change how people view him.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) As mentioned previously, he would perish without you by his side.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) Peter Quill returned to Knowhere for a short visit. He showered everyone with gifts, Adam receiving a Polaroid. Quill taught him how to use the camera and even took a selfie with him. Adam was so excited to show you his gift that he ran up to you and took a picture of you admiring the ballet slippers Quill gifted you with. Now, Adam’s room is covered in Polaroids of you and him, but he cherishes the photo of you smiling down at the slippers you loved dancing in.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) He would not be fond of self-deprecating behaviors from himself or a partner. Adam understood that everyone has their flaws, but it makes him sad when he sees others put themselves down because he believes that anyone can be redeemed. He is a prime example of second chances. That being said, he would have zero tolerance for anyone who picks on you or his friends. Adam has no problem putting bullies in their places.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) Adam sleeps better when you and Blurp are sharing the bed with him. When either one of you is missing, his sleep gets disrupted. And when he isn’t fully rested, it affects his mood and performance on missions and everyday tasks. Something that helps when you are away is listening to songs that remind him of you and looking at Polaroids of you.

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