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themurphyzone · 3 years ago

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Nova Ch 10

AN: I think that reunion with Snowball went pretty well!

Ch 10: White Dwarves

AO3 Link, FFN Link

Terran Date 2015.4.26

I’m stuck in a backwater lab with an idiot who believes you can transform a rock into gold by spray painting it. Nothing else worth reporting.

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky winced as Brain slammed his hand against the computer mouse, saving the oddly brief recording to the computer. He didn’t bother with his usual sign-off either. Just buried his face between his hands and growled to himself.

Brain had been in a foul mood ever since the tea party, snapping whenever Pinky tried to ask a question and making messes without bothering to clean up after himself. He wasn’t the only one affected by Snowball suddenly leaving. Madame Daisy was still pretty miffed about Snowball’s lack of etiquette when he didn’t say goodbye to the other guests or say thank you to the host. And Brain hadn’t done those either.

Maybe Pinky should’ve warned them about Madame Daisy being a stickler for tea party etiquette.

But more importantly, the deadline for RSVPing was tomorrow at 8 pm and they still hadn’t called Lamont Manor. More than once, Pinky brought it up in conversation and left post-it notes as reminders, but Brain always shut the topic down and shredded the notes into confetti.

It stung when he did that, but Pinky shook it off and saved the itty-bitty scraps. One never knew when they’d need good confetti.

Pinky’s ears twitched towards the cage at the sound of Brain’s groan. Brain had already drained a full water bottle and was steadily working his way through a second. While Pinky was happy his alien friend had gotten used to water, mostly so they could play Marco Polo and waterski with popsicle sticks, maybe there was such a thing as too much water.

“Brain?” Pinky called, nearly slipping on a puddle. He frowned. There were several puddles and no sign of Brain at least trying to keep this side of the cage neat. “Er, don’t you think that’s enough? Awfully hard to sleep if you have to keep getting up for the bathroom.”

“Just leave me alone,” Brain muttered. He sipped from the tube again without taking his glare off Pinky. Water dribbled down his chin.

No, he was absolutely not leaving Brain alone! Pinky stomped his foot, startling Brain when he tried to sneak another drink.

“That’s it!” Pinky shouted. He tugged his ears and released them with a sharp snap. “I’m gonna give you tough love whether you like it or not, mistah!”

Before Brain could react, Pinky snatched him away from the water bottle and tucked him under one arm like he was cradling a football. Brain kicked and squirmed in his grip, trying to smack him with his tail, but Pinky had a firm hold. With his free hand, he pulled a fedora off the coat rack as he marched out of the cage and over to the stereo.

It was a little worn from age, but it still worked alright.

He dropped Brain, who let out a little oomph when his stomach hit the counter. Smacking the play button with his foot, Pinky kept one hand on his fedora as he counted the beats until the main melody began.

“Just say narf! Just say narf!

Don’t you know to be glad? Just say narf!

Every day is a joy and so-”

The music shut off.

Surprised by the lack of background music, Pinky checked behind him, arms still thrown above his head with the fedora hanging from one hand.

Brain stood in front of the stereo, his hand over the stop button. “Just what in Orion’s belt are you trying to accomplish with this display?” he snapped, crossing his arms.

“You’ve been a grumpasaurus rex ever since the tea party! So I’m cheering you up with one of my favorite songs!” Pinky protested.

“You can’t cheer me up by manhandling me and saying nonsense!” Brain yelled.

“I said narf, not nonsense!”

“They’re synonymous!”

“No, they’re not! They agreed they could date other people and they still have a trusting relationship! And you wanna know what else? They actually clean up after themselves too!”

“GAH!”

“TROZ!”

Their noses were just a few inches apart, chests huffing and puffing like they were about to blow the Three Little Pigs’ houses down. Brain broke away from the staredown first, clasping his hands behind his back as he sulked.

Pinky counted one Mississippi, five Mississippis, and seventeen Mississippi’s, his hand against his racing heart as he breathed in and out to calm down. And why did they only count Mississippi? Why not Alabama, Georgia, or Papua New Guinea?

Brain was a closed book at the best of times, it seemed. One of those heavy textbooks with lots of big words, not a happy, colorful picture book like Pat the Bunny.

But he wasn’t a good actor, though he pretended to be above happiness, fear, and sorrow.

“You know you can talk to me, right? About your feelings or world domination or secret crushes. Anything you want,” Pinky said, wringing his tail in his hands. It looked like a very sad, wiggling worm under his fingers. The smooth surface under his fingers helped a little, but it didn’t replace a full snout hug from Pharfignewton. “I...I was just trying to help.”

“World domination is the only topic worth discussing out of everything you said. Emotions are irrelevant,” Brain said. There was still a bite in his tone, but not much. He rubbed his arm, feet shuffling uncomfortably. “So you were truthful about wanting to...assist during my period of inactivity?”

Pinky tilted his head. “Why would I lie about wanting to help? That would be mean, Brain.”

“Helping is just another way of ensuring someone owes a favor. Or it would be mutually beneficial to all parties involved,” Brain replied. His sharp gaze snapped back to Pinky. “Our deal is just one example out of many.”

“What about helping you cause I wanted you to feel better?”

Didn’t that count? He didn’t know why Brain was making it all so complicated.

“As I stated before, your song was nonsense and your method was invasive.” Brain shot a disdainful glare at the stereo. “But I can’t entirely fault you for your intentions, however misguided, though I suggest having a concrete reward in mind next time.”

Pinky grinned and let go of his tail. “Oh, that’s easy! Lemme grab a chunk of concrete off the street!”

Brain sighed, stomping over to a top drawer, perching on the edge of the counter as he slid it open. “That won’t be necessary, Pinky.”

“Looking for something, Brain?” Pinky asked.

“I can find it on my own!” Brain tried to wave him off, but overbalanced and fell into the open drawer, landing on his stomach with a muffled oomph. He spat a scrap of paper out of his mouth, kicking a red pen aside as he rolled onto his back.

Pinky’s fingers drummed on the counter as he peered down at Brain. A light cherry color coated his sagging cheeks.

“I’d rather direct my focus somewhere else for the time being.” Brain wasn’t making eye contact with Pinky. Which was a shame, because his eyes were the prettiest shade of pink. “I don’t require anything else after you point me to the cleaning supplies.”

Pinky blinked at him in surprise, but they were getting somewhere now! He could do a cartwheel, kiss a cockatoo, and dance the Macarena! Maybe not in that order, or all at once, but there’s a first time for everything!

A smile spread across Pinky’s face, and he couldn’t help but laugh when Brain’s head began to resemble a lumpy tomato.

o-o-o-o-o

Several hours later, Pinky yawned as the first rays of sunlight gently crept across the bed. The distant sounds of cars caught in traffic on the nearby bridge combined with the gentle thrum of lab technology formed the usual background noises, greeting him with a new day. Freeing his legs and tail from the blanket, he dipped into a luxurious, catlike stretch, arching his back and raising his rear end and tail as high as they would go.

“Wakey-wakey, Brain! Narf!” Pinky exclaimed as he shook Brain’s shoulder.

Brain mumbled to himself and buried his head into his pillow, curling into a very tight cocoon to block out the light. If Brain wanted to hatch into a pretty butterfly, he needed all the rest he could get, so Pinky left him alone.

But it was worth a shot, even if Brain wasn’t a morning mouse.

Pinky ate a plateful of food pellets for a quick breakfast, then washed it down with water. The area around the water bottle was puddle-free and mostly clean, save for a stubborn stain on a cage bar by the floor. But that spot gave Pinky plenty of trouble too, so he didn’t hold it against Brain.

He coaxed a drop of water out of the tubing and splashed it on his face, then squeezed through the cage bars, hands behind his back as he strolled over to the cap Snowball had given him.

He’d spent most of his time decorating it with whatever he could find for the past few days. Glittery, colorful letters that spelled Pharfignewton were glued across the brim, give or take a few letters. Her name was so long that it didn’t fit and the ‘ewton’ was on a separate row beneath the rest. Feathers, ribbons, and encouraging messages on sticky notes covered the blue fabric.

It was coming along nicely. Pinky backed up a few steps, sticking out his tongue and placing his fingers together like he was taking a picture.

“Just needs a little something,” Pinky murmured, tapping his chin to get the idea muscle in his head working. It usually worked best after he ate, so coming up with something should be a cinch!

Then he snapped his fingers together, a little lightbulb flickering overhead with a satisfying click. Wait, no, no. That was just the light turning on cause a sleepy scientist trudged in, dragging his feet to the kitchen. He didn’t see Pinky waving good morning to him.

Hopefully the man liked decaf, because they were all out of regular coffee.

Pinky folded red tissue paper into a rose, then repeated the step with purple tissue paper. “Thank you, DIY craft videos on Youtube!” he hummed.

He needed more roses to go all the way around. Kentucky Derby hats were always decked out with pretty roses. Oh, he could arrange the roses into a pretty red-purple-red-purple pattern!

And toss some glitter onto the roses too! Can’t go wrong with glitter!

He dumped a generous amount of pink glitter on his rose and glued it to the hat.

More scientists trickled in, shuffling off to the kitchen in search of coffee and once again ignoring Pinky and his pretty hat. They didn’t seem too keen on coming today. He couldn’t imagine why. Monday was such a lovely day and it never got the appreciation it deserved.

Since they had a bad habit of moving items around so Pinky could never find them, he hid his unfinished hat in the back of a large drawer. Nobody ever looked there anyway.

He hauled himself out of the drawer. As he climbed back to the counter, he paused to admire the calendar picture of Mickey Mouse giving flowers to Minnie. Beneath it, the box for April 27 was circled in glittery blue.

Right, wasn’t there something they were supposed to do today?

RSVP BY 8 PM! NARF!

Right, they still had stuff to do if they were gonna have the best weekend ever! They still had to find costumes for the masquerade ball! Especially the masks! Masks were the most important part!

And they had to call soon, or they wouldn’t be able to go.

“Brain!” Pinky shouted as he ran inside the cage, snatching up the invitation card from the corner. Brain was out of bed and trying to eat a food pellet, though his expression was pinched from the dryness of his breakfast. “Oh, that brand is pretty dry. That’s why I saute it in three-and-one oil first. Anyway, you’re already up?”

Brain scowled and swallowed his morsel with difficulty. “How can I possibly sleep with all this racket?”

A cupboard slammed down the hall, followed by loud profanity that would’ve made Pinky’s grandmother clutch her pearls and faint.

Apparently, nobody wanted decaf.

Pinky held the invitation close to a scowling Brain. “See? We’ve gotta call now or they won’t let us in! Then we won’t be able to swim in the chocolate fountain or admire the ice sculptures!”

Brain shoved the card away from his face. “Heaven forbid we miss those banal activities,” he replied, pressing two hands to his cheeks.

“Exactly!” Pinky’s tail twitched in anticipation. “And we still need fancy outfits and masks!”

Brain took another food pellet, grimaced, and tossed it back into the bowl. Then he sighed and rubbed his temples. “This is a rather asinine plan, Snowball,” he muttered. “Come again?” Pinky asked. He could’ve sworn Brain said Snowball’s name.

Which was weird, because Snowball wasn’t even here. Unless Brain named the food bowl Snowball. That made more sense.

“Never mind, Pinky,” Brain sighed. “Forgive me for my reservations.”

“But we haven’t made those reservations yet,” Pinky said. Brain didn’t reply, too focused on valiantly keeping his breakfast down. Then Brain drank from the water bottle, careful not to splash too much. Once he finished, he headed to the cage door, and Pinky dutifully followed. He hopped from toe to toe as Brain unlocked the door with a bent paper clip. “Can I place the call, Brain?”

“This is a delicate operation, Pinky,” Brain replied. “We must use our given aliases so that we won’t be found out prematurely. I can’t risk you blabbing our true identities, so I’ll speak to our less than gracious host myself. Now, hand over the card.”

It was true.

He wasn’t a good liar at all.

Pinky held out the card, but before Brain could take it, a balding man with a bad combover and rumpled labcoat tried to yank him out of the cage by his crooked tail. The scientist yelped in pain as the orb sparked in his hand, leaving red marks on his skin. Startled, Freed from his grip, Brain leapt forward and tripped over himself. Pinky dropped the card and caught Brain by the shoulders before he could slam nose-first into the metal floor.

The red orbs on Brain’s antennae glowed for several seconds before fading away. Then Brain regained his footing and gave Pinky a brief nod as thanks, quickly pulling away to recollect himself.

The contact ended all too soon.

The man flicked his hand to get rid of the shock, muttering to himself as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

“What’s going on?” Brain snapped. “We have important business to conduct!”

“Don’t worry, Brain. It’s just Maze Monday!” Pinky said, fixing his messy tuft as best he could without a mirror. He had to look his best for maze running! “We’ll call afterward!”

The scientist reached in again. Though Brain defiantly stood in the corner away from him, it was no use and he was pulled out of the cage. He dangled in the scientist’s gloved hand by the tail, grumpy at his current position.

Pinky was next. He swung from the scientist’s other hand as he was lifted into the air, pumping his legs back and forth like he was on an upside down swing. Giggling, he reached out and tried to touch Brain’s ears, though he was several inches short.

With one mouse dangling from each hand, the scientist walked out of the room and carried them down the hallway. They passed the college interns who were more interested in selfies than work, the security guard who was always shouting about evil rodents and their master plan to hoard the world’s entire cheese supply for themselves, and a bored female scientist who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but here.

The scientist entered a room on his left. Along the wall, several guinea pigs rested in their cages. Pinky waved to them, but since he didn’t have any food, the guinea pigs weren’t interested.

They were dropped at the start of a large cardboard maze. The scientist adjusted the cameras mounted above the maze, then left the room.

Just him and Brain now.

“Your scientists display a disturbing lack of regard for our tails,” Brain grumbled, rubbing the soreness out of one zigzagged bend. “Not that Selenians were any better.”

“But if they hold the tip just right, you can swing around like a little monkey!” Pinky said. “I mean, my rear gets a bit sore too, and sometimes you might crash into a wall, but it’s still loads of fun! Haven’t you ever tried it, Brain?”

“While that activity is suitable for inane creatures, it doesn’t befit a future world emperor to behave in such an embarrassing manner.” Brain dusted off his jumpsuit, though it was recently washed and wasn’t particularly dirty. “But I digress. We must focus on surviving this perilous maze so that we may RSVP to the event in time.”

Perilous?

But he didn’t see any pearls anywhere. It was just cardboard and metal as far as the eye could see. Pearls would’ve brightened this drab maze a lot.

There were four directions to pick from. Pinky scratched his head. Which one?

The left path looked fun, but the one behind and in front were dimly lit. Which left the right path. And since it was right, that meant it was the right way!

“Let’s go! The right path is always right! Zort!” Pinky exclaimed. He walked to the right path, but Brain hauled him back by the elbow.

“Don’t assume the direction and the certainty of success are one and the same, Pinky,” Brain said firmly. “We have to take precautions.”

Pinky didn’t think they had to be careful though. There wasn’t anyone else here. Unless the guinea pigs counted, but they weren’t in the maze.

His usual strategy was to run around silly-willy until he found the snack at the end. But in all his years, he’d never actually found the snack. Usually he just ran into walls and daydreamed about cheese until a nice scientist got him out.

And cheese kept the spookiness away.

“There’s nobody here but us,” Pinky said.

“There’s nobody visible in this maze but us,” Brain corrected. “If we’re not careful, we could fall victim to traps. Enough arguing, Pinky. We’re taking the left fork.”

There weren’t any forks to take, nor anything to eat using a fork, but at least Brain was nice enough to drag Pinky down his second choice instead of the dimly lit paths.

Brain stuck close to the walls, grabbing Pinky’s wrist to ensure he did the same. As they came upon a T-section where they could either turn left or right, Brain carefully held his antennae back with his free hand and poked his head around the corner. Pinky tried to lean over Brain to see what was so interesting, but a sharp nudge kept him back.

“Whatcha looking for?” Pinky asked. “Besides cardboard.”

“Bright, confined areas are the safest,” Brain said. “It’s not a complete guarantee, but you can at least watch for disturbances on the floor or wall. We’ll head right. I can’t see the end of the left corridor from here.”

He let go of Pinky’s wrist, but gave him stern instructions to stay along the wall. It was just like giving the wall a really long hug, and Pinky licked the wall to thank it for hugging back.

Huh. So cardboard tastes like cardboard then. Not bad, but it could definitely use some parsley.

Halfway down the corridor, Brain’s breath suddenly hitched. He stared at the floor in front of them, where one edge of the cardboard was a little higher than the other. The line spanned the entire length between the two walls.

“Don’t get too close,” Brain said, pushing Pinky back before he could step on it. “Remember, strange patterns in the structure might reveal the location of a trap.”

It looked like a normal ledge though. Completely harmless.

But if the trap only worked when they stepped on it...then the trick was to not step on it!

Brain let go of Pinky’s wrist as he pondered their next course of action. Taking his chances, Pinky backed up several paces, keeping his eye on the line he couldn’t touch.

Then he sprinted forward, ignoring Brain’s shout for him to stop.

Pinky leapt as high as he could, easily clearing the line. Though he couldn’t quite stick the landing and toppled forward as soon as he touched the ground.

Still had to work on his weak ankles.

Hopping to his feet, Pinky turned to a flabbergasted Brain. Ha! He loved that word. Flabbergasted! Too bad it was a bit long for a catchphrase.

Instead of being impressed, Brain glared at him.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous your stunt was?” Brain shouted. “You could’ve been severely incapacitated!”

Pinky stretched his legs to test his ankles, but they felt alright. No harm done.

“Narf! But my ankles are fine! See?” Pinky shook his ankles so Brain could see they weren’t hurt.

“And if there was a motion sensor?” Brain snapped. “Did you consider the possibility of spikes, projectiles, or electrocution?”

“Um…”

The scientists wouldn’t be mean enough to put those in a maze. Of course, sometimes they’d forget to take him out when he couldn’t find the exit, and he’d lay in the maze alone and listen to the lab’s scary nighttime noises, but he’d never seen spikes during these tests before.

“Thought so,” Brain said. There was something odd about the way his hand twitched towards his tail.

Like he had personal experience.

“Have you ever been caught in a trap before?” Pinky asked before he could stop himself.

Too much?

Brain folded his arms and lifted his chin, pink eyes narrowing at Pinky. Probably not then. Brain was too smart for that.

And definitely clever enough to find his way to the exit and not get stuck overnight.

Then Brain turned around so Pinky could see all the zigzags in his tail.

“Electrocution trap,” Brain said, his ears lowering. “An overload of electricity can be fatal for my species, though we’re naturally resistant to smaller shocks. I was...less experienced back then.”

There was more. Brain wasn’t telling him how much it hurt.

But Brain tensed, a silent warning not to push any further.

“They didn’t leave you in the maze overnight, did they?” Pinky asked. Brain went dangerously still.

Oh, there he went running his mouth again! Why couldn’t his mouth be good and stay zipped?

“Sorry, Brain. You don’t have to answer. It’s fine, really!” Pinky hastily corrected himself. “But if they did-”

"No, they didn't," Brain said, surprising Pinky with how much he was revealing. "They kept a strict count of all their test subjects, and preserving them was far more preferable to losing a valuable limited resource. Small mercies, I suppose.”

“Oh. Well...that’s good.” Pinky rubbed the back of his neck. He was glad Brain never had to deal with that. He wouldn’t wish it on anybody, not even that stubborn stain he could never rub out from the cage bars. “Poit.”

Brain turned back to Pinky and looked at the line between them. Then he hopped over it, bracing himself for a shock. When no electricity appeared, he seemed surprised, though he immediately tried to school his expression into a neutral one. He walked past Pinky and refused an invitation to hug it out.

They had to turn left at the next intersection since the right led to a dead end. Then they reached an open room with a cardboard path and a metal path. Brain chose the metal path, but stopped where the rough paper met cool metal. Pinky stopped behind him.

“Pinky?” Brain said. He didn’t turn around. “Were you left in a maze overnight?”

“Sometimes,” Pinky admitted. Was he worrying Brain? He didn’t want Brain to worry! “But it’s not so bad when you imagine all the cheese you’ll eat at the end, even if you never reach it. But cheese keeps the ghosts away, you know. They don’t like the smell.”

If he imagined cheese, he wouldn’t imagine long, crooked witch fingers trying to pluck him out. Or the loud air conditioning system which clicked on and off every few minutes, the ghostly breeze echoing down the hallway. Or how he called for his parents and Sis to come share a yummy feast with him, though they never came.

“That’s horribly negligent on the humans’ end.”

And that was all the talk Brain allowed on the matter.

o-o-o-o-o

The maze was a lot longer than they thought. Just when Pinky believed they’d reached the cheese, there was always some new twist that set them back.

What time was it? Though he couldn’t see the clock, it had to be around lunchtime right now. Pinky’s stomach growled, sounding a lot like Brain in one of his moods.

He’d give an arm and a leg for a few food pellets. Or some cheese. Even a leaf.

Brain was tiring out too. His footsteps were heavier and slower. But he kept at it.

Right, focus on the goal. Focus on the yummy cheese.

What kind would they get? Moldy? Blue? Provolone? All of those sounded pretty good, but Pinky thought his stomach was calling for pepperjack. Oh wait, no, maybe it was gorgonzola.

His stomach grumbled again. Okay, it was definitely muenster this time.

They came across a path with a thick sheet of metal on top. So dark that they couldn’t see a thing in front of them. Brain took a deep breath and stuck a hand in the darkness. They only saw his wrist.

His fingers were completely swallowed by the inky, hungry darkness.

Brain took his hand out.

Oh. Not swallowed then. All his fingers were still there.

“We’ve exhausted all our options,” Brain said, pounding his fist into his hand in determination. But even that gesture couldn’t hide how he stuck to the wall like glue. Pinky didn’t blame him. It was awfully dark in there. What if they went in and were never found again? “Taking this path is absolutely necessary if we’re to make it out of this labyrinth in time.”

But they couldn’t see the traps. It wasn’t safe.

Unless…

“Brain, your orbs!” Pinky exclaimed, gently tapping an antenna. “If you make ‘em glow, we won’t get lost or fall into a trap!”

Brain didn’t look so sure. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not a terrible suggestion for once, Pinky. Unfortunately, it’s not something I have voluntary control over. It’s a hormonal response that occurs when I’m...well, happy.”

“So we’ll just have to make you happy enough for your orbs to glow,” Pinky said.

With what? Brain raised an eyebrow, the silent question obvious.

Then Pinky snapped his fingers. He knew what to do! He'd sing Just Say Narf!

Except he was trying to make Brain happy, not himself.

A no-go then.

Cream cheese and blueberry bagels? Out of reach.

Pinky tapped his chin. This was harder than he thought.

Brain sat against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and hands rubbing circles into his large forehead. “Statues, parades, my jewel-encrusted cummerbund…” he murmured.

He was doing one of those smartypants things. Too smart for Pinky to understand.

Brain growled and opened his eyes in irritation. “Cease your staring at once, Pinky. I’m trying to concentrate.”

“On what?” Pinky asked.

“World domination of course,” Brain said, smacking his ear like he was dumping extra thoughts out of his chubby head. “Accomplishing a goal would naturally bring anyone contentment.”

Pinky zipped his lip and threw away the key, then sat against the wall across from Brain and waited.

Yet Brain’s orbs didn’t glow.

Pinky drummed his fingers against his leg. When he drummed all the songs he knew, he tried to lick his elbow. Except his elbow didn’t want to be licked. He leaned in and stuck his tongue out as far as he could, but it was a very stubborn elbow.

After an eternity, Brain finally spoke, his voice full of cautious hope. “Are they glowing now?”

Pinky shook his head, and Brain slumped against the wall in defeat.

The clock ticked on.

“There’s gotta be other things you like besides world domination,” Pinky said. It made sense to have a lot of likes and favorites, and not just on social media.

“Those ‘other things’ are frivolous at best and distractions at worst,” Brain replied. “Taking over this world would make me happy, so there’s no logical reason as to why it’s not working.”

Maybe it was happy, but they had to think happier. No, they had to think happiest!

Brain said ‘this world’. Right, he was a Selenian. Funny how it seemed like he’d been here forever instead of just a few days.

A Selenian. Brain never revealed much about where he came from. Just that he wanted to leave it all behind. And he only spoke about their technology. But there was more than that, right?

“Narf! It’s funny, Brain,” Pinky said, holding his toes as he rocked back and forth. Brain looked at him, confused. “You’ve gotten to know a lot about this planet, but I don’t know much about yours! There’s gotta be something about New Selene that makes you happy!”

“Nothing about that desolate wasteland sparks any joyful feelings,” Brain retorted. “Snowball and I are much better off here. Terra’s knowledge of space is much less advanced than Selene’s, but once we’re co-rulers that’s a problem easily rectified.”

“But there has to be something you did for fun.”

Brain looked away. “You’re prying. But if you’re truly interested…”

“I am!” Pinky exclaimed, nodding eagerly. “Please tell me!”

Brain’s ear twitched as he listened for signs of anyone coming. But none appeared. “I’m going to regret this...but fine. However, everything I’m about to tell you does not leave this maze. Promise me.”

“Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my-ow!” Pinky jabbed his eye a little too hard.

Brain watched him for a moment longer, so Pinky tried to make himself look like a captivated audience. Finally, he gave in with a sigh.

“Selenians have an oral storytelling tradition called Lor Altal. The loose translation to your language is ‘swapping hearts’, and given their predisposition to sordid, melodramatic affairs, I’d say it’s an accurate name,” Brain explained. “On the mother planet, it’s normally performed on the last day of the month. But explorers and scientists, including those of New Selene, often turned it into a weekly session as a way to remind them of home.”

“Didja hear any Lor Altals on New Selene?” Pinky asked. He laid on his stomach, propped his head on his elbows, and kicked his feet in the air.

“...yes.”

Why so hesitant though?

“Snowball and I...we used to sneak out of our cages for the weekly Lor Altal. When we were younger. Before they abandoned New Selene. The ones we’d listened to were...well, they could become very elaborate with song, dance, and costume. New Selene’s were more basic, but interesting.”

“Ooooooh,” Pinky said. This definitely sounded fun fun silly-willy! “You know any good stories, Brain? Can you tell me? Please please please?”

Brain scratched his head. “Well, there’s one that I...no, perhaps I shouldn’t be thinking about these things. Lor Altals don’t matter in the pursuit of world domination.”

“I don’t mind!” Pinky said. Brain was so silly, insisting that he couldn’t like stuff outside his goal. He liked cream cheese and blueberry bagels, didn’t he? “I wanna know your favoritest out of the lot!”

“You do?” Brain asked in surprise. He didn’t seem to believe Pinky.

“Of course!” Pinky grinned.

Brain’s cheeks flushed, but he accepted that they weren’t going anywhere. Besides, if Brain really liked these Lor Altal stories, then his orbs would glow and they wouldn’t have to be scared of the dark!

“...alright. This Lor Altal tale is called Heikro var Silda. It’s one of the most well-known stories, starring Selene’s historical figures,” Brain said, gaining more confidence with every word. “The characters were embellished from real life, but the background is mostly the same.”

There was a spark in Brain’s pink eyes now. It intrigued Pinky.

“Three thousand years ago, before Selene’s industrial and technological revolutions, the entire planet was embroiled in a long and bitter civil war, spearheaded by two rival households, alike in prestige and influence.”

“If they add honey, maybe it wouldn’t be so bitter?” Pinky suggested.

“Try not to interrupt, Pinky. Setting the mood is important in these stories,” Brain said, breaking out of his narrator voice. And boy did he have a lovely narrator voice!

Pinky rezipped his lip and let Brain continue.

“The eastern hemisphere was the domain of the House of Syar'i, of which the fair maiden Silda belonged. The western half was controlled by the House of Alkair, of which the handsome lad Heikro was selected to rule. Caught between the two powerful households, the Selenians were fearful of the violence that ensued whenever they clashed, for both commanded large networks of armies, assassins, and spies. Now, on one fateful day…”

Soon Brain was completely engrossed in the story, just as Pinky was enthralled to hear Brain give the performance of his life. Well, Brain wasn’t the best actor Pinky had ever seen. Sometimes he was a bit flat and sometimes he was a bit hammy, but the passion in his voice made the story absolutely thrilling.

It was the type of passion someone only had when they truly loved something.

Some breaks were necessary for Brain to rest his voice for a few minutes, others so Pinky could get a translation for the Selenian language when Brain accidentally used a different tongue after getting caught up in the story.

Brain’s voice grew softer as he laid out Heikro’s plan to sneak into a banquet thrown by the House of Syar’i to scope out their plans for an invasion of an Akair-controlled port city. And poor Silda, having to marry someone she didn’t love but doing it for the sake of her parents! That poor girl oughta be happy!

Pinky clasped his hands together at the moment Heikro laid eyes on Silda’s beauty and was instantly smitten, forgetting that he needed to report his findings to his council. And Silda was taken in by Heikro’s broad shoulders and sturdy build. It was love at first sight! How romantic!

“Then Silda bid her parents and their guests good night, and retired to her chambers. But Heikro, who longed to see more of the maiden’s ethereal charm, could not bear to stay away for long. Under the cover of darkness, he crept around her residence, where he found a restless Silda on her balcony. She couldn’t slumber peacefully, for her maidservant revealed the man she kissed was none other than an esteemed member of the House of Akair.”

Pinky pounded his fist against his knee. “She needs to elope with him, that’s what! Narf!”

“‘Nova suprhi li ihmin var altal’, he called to her.”

“Oh, there’s that altal word again. He’s saying something about hearts, I think. That’s so sweet!” Pinky exclaimed. Realizing his mistake, he covered his mouth. “Sorry, Brain! Continue!”

But instead of continuing, Brain leaned against the wall. Oh. He must’ve gotten tired.

“I’ll let it pass this time, Pinky,” Brain said as he rubbed his throat. “I might’ve overdone it anyway. Next time, I’ll pick a better stopping point.”

His voice sounded a little raspy. Though Pinky really wanted to know what happened next, keeping Brain’s voice in working order so they could make the phone call was more important.

“What did that last sentence mean?” Pinky asked.

Brain regarded Pinky for a long moment. “It’s a favorite quote among many Selenians. But it’s rather saccharine, I’m afraid.”

“I’m not,” Pinky said.

“If you must know, it means ‘new stars shall be born from our minds and hearts’.” Brain’s voice was so soft, Pinky had to strain to hear it. “As I said, it’s saccharine.”

“It sounds so poetic!” Pinky smiled. And romantic too!

Brain didn’t say anything. His orbs cast a gentle red glow over his shining pink eyes.

Egad, his orbs! They were glowing now! Even the one on his tail!

“Brain, you did it!” Pinky cheered, trying to do a cartwheel. But he landed flat on his face instead, though he popped right back up. “You found what made you happy!”

Brain touched the orbs on his antennae, awed by their appearance. Then he turned towards the dark pathway, gesturing for Pinky to follow.

They didn’t have to worry about traps or getting stuck anymore! Pinky skipped along behind Brain, who walked at a brisk pace.

A soft red glow lit up the metal walls around them as they plunged deeper into the maze. But there were no lefts, rights, or confusing turns. Just straight ahead.

“Thanks for being here with me, Brain. It’s not scary anymore,” Pinky said gratefully, taking Brain’s hand in his own.

“Keep walking, Pinky,” Brain replied, keeping his eyes forward. If anything, the light grew a little brighter. “We should be nearing the end of the maze.”

Pinky sniffed the air. He could’ve sworn he smelled cheese.

Hold the phone! He smelled cheese!

And there was an opening ahead of them!

Pinky’s stomach growled as they stepped into the light, and lo and behold, there were two lumps of cheddar right in front of them!

Even Brain was smiling as he chomped down on the cheese.

Pinky dug in. And it was the best cheese he’d ever tasted in his life!

o-o-o-o-o

It took a long time for the lab to clear out after they finished the maze. The scientists were shocked by Pinky clearing the maze for the first time. He couldn’t blame them.

He astounded himself too.

Brain’s light had dimmed long before the lab closed, annoyed by the constant poking and prodding. They wanted to know who spliced him with butterfly DNA because of his antennae, though multiple people thought he was spliced with a mosquito since he bit any curious fingers that strayed close to his face.

“Those ignorant fools will be bowing to me soon enough, Pinky,” Brain proclaimed as he dialed the number on the invitation. “Hold the card up.”

“Hurry, Brain!” Pinky urged, shooting a fearful glance at the clock. They only had thirty minutes left!

Brain punched the number into the phone, then hit the call button.

“Please work!” Pinky begged the phone as it rang. He wanted to wear fancy clothes and mingle and swim in the chocolate fountain so much!

The phone rang once, twice, then the call finally went through.

“Hello, this is Harold, butler of Lamont Manor,” a voice with a charming British accent said. “May I ask who I’m speaking with?”

Pinky bounced from toe to toe in excitement, though he tried to curb it when Brain held up a hand for him to stop. But he couldn’t help his tail twitchies.

“This is Mr. Clarke,” Brain said, using the name on the card. “My spouse and I will be coming to the ball on Sunday.”

“I see,” Harold said, his tone changing into one of disgust. That was a little odd. “Another new spouse then, Anthony?”

New spouse? Brain mouthed in confusion.

Pinky shrugged.

“Mrs. Clarke is on the invitation. She’s allowed inside too, correct?” Brain asked.

“Assuming she’s still your wife by Sunday, yes,” Harold said. “I’ll put your names on the guest list. Try to do something about that awful rasp of yours, will you? Good night.”

The call ended.

“The real Mr. Clarke sounds like a delightful fellow,” Brain muttered.

“I’m sure it won’t be so bad, Brain!” Pinky grinned. Now all they had to do was find fancy stuff for the ball! “You’re gonna be wearing a mask anyway!”

“I suppose,” Brain sighed.

“No supposing!” Pinky shook his finger at him. “Besides, you haven’t finished your Lor Altal story yet! You know, it’s funny how it reminds me of Romeo and Juliet. With the feuding families and star-crossed lovers and all! Except much happier, cause Reikro and Silda will help bring about peace to the planet of Selene and live happily ever after!”

Brain didn’t make eye contact with Pinky for the next few hours.

My original plan was to have them mistaken for feeder mice after they finished the maze, and they would’ve been plopped into a snake enclosure with a snake named Gladys. Pinky would’ve been caught in the coils (Gladys is nonvenomous and would kill by constricting rather than venom), and Brain would rescue him.

Ultimately, I decided to cut this idea out and have them run a maze instead, which is tedious but not life-threatening. Since the maze is light on danger, I decided to focus more on Pinky and Brain interactions here, and include the Lor Altal oral storytelling tradition, which has been mentioned in previous chapters as an aside. Plus, I believe this story would benefit from Pinky learning more about where Brain came from, since previous chapters have placed the focus on Brain learning about Earth.

The storytelling is an aspect of Selenian culture Brain likes but never got to fully enjoy. Since Brain seems to have a hidden interest in acting and theatre, given the number of his schemes that involve cinema, broadcasting, and in one case, Broadway, I decided to incorporate that bit of his character here.

Brain’s story is just an abridged Romeo and Juliet IN SPACE!

#pinky and the brain #patb nova #patb fanfiction

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peachyteabuck · 5 years ago

Text

study buddy, part iv

series summary: after crushing on you since freshman orientation, Natasha finally gets the guts to ask you help you pass her postmodern lit midterm, to which you agree.

chapter summary: for the first time in her life, natasha romanoff freaks out about a test grade. luckily, you’re there to coach her through it.

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: 4,253

trigger warnings: talk of past drug abuse, mention of sexual assault, heavy smut, fluff, unhappy childhood mention

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

part one, part two, part three

You’re already soaking when Nat teased the head of the toy at your entrance, your arousal evident by the sounds of the silicon as it rubbed against your slick, smooth folds. With each drag a whine escaped you, each second that passed by met with another flood of heat across your skin. “Ple-ease,” you sniffled as fat tears welled up in your eyes and your voice broke from overuse. “Please, Mommy, please”

Natasha just let out a hearty laugh, moving the strap away and replacing it with her fingers. As she spoke, she just barely dipped them inside of you. “Oh, c’mon baby girl. Was that not enough for you? Do want Mommy to give you more? Huh? Are you such a greedy little slut you can’t appreciate what your Mommy gives you?”

You nodded furiously, your “yesyesyesyesyes”s just above a low whisper as you rolled your hips. Your words slowly but surely turned to babble. “yes mommy yes please I’m your little slut I want more please give me more.”

Natasha laughed again as she leaned forward to invade your line of sight once more.

“Mm, might have to be careful and fuck you nice and slow,” she mumbled into your collarbone, the bruises still deep purple. The thin layer of sweat that had formed there made her smile. “Don’t want to break this perfect little thing I’ve been gifted.”

You shook your head violently, grabbing at the sheets so hard your fingers went cold and where each bone met the next ached. “No, no no please, please fuck me Mommy please please touch me please fuck me please.”

Natasha remained unconvinced by your whining. “You poor little thing. I just neglect you so much. Don’t I?” You struggled to speak as she moved to straddle your waist. The heavy toy moved as she did so, occasionally hitting your stomach as she sat upon you. “Hm. Maybe you should get yourself off if you don’t want to answer me, is that a fair punishment?”

You still didn’t respond with the words Natasha wanted, mind too fucked out to sob properly, let alone speak. Still, the fear of disappointing her cut through the fog, and you nodded weakly.

The woman above you smiled, the eponymous image of something wicked that wanted to make you come in whatever way she saw fit. Beside you, placed expertly by Natasha with equal distance between each toy, rested at least four different vibrators of varying strength and shape. If you were lucky enough to get off at your own hand, it’s unlikely Natasha would allow you to choose which weapon will lead to your destruction. Somehow, that thought is worse than anything else she could do to you; forced to bring yourself to the edge (or deny yourself such release) without the dignity of choice but ultimate control over choice of action seems like stories of ole, when disgraced knights caught in their desertion were forced to sacrifice themselves in front of large crowds with the weapon chosen by their ruler.

Empty promises of autonomy, spiritless last chances at reclaiming pride…that’s what they all were.

But you still can’t find it in yourself to complain when Natasha slipped the most powerful of the set into your hands – a battery powered Hitachi colored a matte black – and told you to edge yourself. Your throat burned by then, each breathy moan felt like it’d been ripped out of you with acrylic lesbian porno nails. That sure as Hell didn’t stop you, though, from moaning with each roll of your hips as the woman above you flipped it on.

It didn’t stop Natasha, either, as she cradled your tear-stained face with her pussy-wet hands and told you not to stop until she said so.

“C’mon, baby,” she cooed. Her lips grazed across your cheek as she did so. “Do what you’re told, lemme watch you. Show me how cute you are when you get yourself off.”

It’s so much so quick, every sensation making your whole body shake violently. Natasha mocked you as it became too much, sneering when she pulled the toy away from your center and you screamed in protest. “Can the little slut not take it, hm? Does Mommy not letting you cum make you sad?”

You didn’t say anything, terrified of worse punishment.

Natasha slapped your chest, leaving your breasts angry and hot. “Answer me.”

“Yes!” You cried. “Yes Mommy I want to cum, please let me cum!”

Natasha just rolled her eyes. “What you need doesn’t matter. And keep whining like that…” she paused to pinch one of your nipples and ignored your wails. “I’ll really give you something to cry about.”

This continued three, four, five more times (how many you still can’t exactly be sure), each worse than the last. You’d get there, right at the peak, right at the edge of the mountain, right before one jumped into an ocean, and then-

“Stop. Now. You’re done.”

And then you’d cry and whine high in your throat and thrash around. Somewhere between your lip starting to bleed from you biting it and your drool forming a pool on the sweat-slick pillow she started to fuck you, a horrible and terrifying slow pace that was steady and painful and holy shit you didn’t even know they made fake cocks that big.

Natasha laughed as a particularly poignant thrust almost made you lose feeling in your hands and feet, your strangled weeps sounds that only encouraged her. “There we go,” she murmured, reaching over to grab a bullet vibrator before she turned it on and slipped it under the strap on. She only got more feral, fucking you harder as the vibrations gave her more pleasure than she expected, more pleasure than she ever could’ve dreamed of.

It was almost too much, the feeling of your body under hers and the sounds of your moaning and begging mixed with the soreness in her muscles of her abdomen and the tightness just beneath that, the sweet vibrations on her clit and the sight of you – all stretched out with your knees pressed to your heated ears and jaw slack and eyes scrunched shut and hair wild against the pillow and something, something incoherent but still so beautiful falling from your swollen lips.

Some words, not most, but some, she could decipher. “Mommy, mommy, please please don’t stop I’m gonna cum please make me cum.”

And oh, did she make you cum.

It didn’t feel the same as the last time, doesn’t feel as sudden. Deeper almost, earth-shatteringly so.

Natasha’s wearing the same shit-eating grin, though her eyes are much more hazy and tears prick the corners of them as well as your own.

“You keep soaking my sheets like this, babygirl, Mommy’s gonna have to make you pick up the tab,” she chuckles as she pulls out of you.

For a moment you just laid there, twitching and gasping as the aftershocks rolled through you, as your pussy clenched around nothing and as your eyes cried without any tears. You couldn’t speak – each time you tried the words fell away from your brain before they could be said.

“You good, baby?” she cooed, rubbing her thumb over your chin and bottom lip.

All you could do is mmm as the world slowly rebuilds itself around you. Natasha chuckles at that, laughed as she pulled the strap-on off and tossed it in the bathroom to be cleaned later. At that moment, she simply grabbed what she needed for aftercare – including the special lotion she had bought for you when Sam had dragged her to Bed, Bath, and Beyond a few days prior.

She cleaned between your legs with a washcloth dampened with cool water – something that normally made you flinch and hiss, but then did nothing as you laid there and panted with your eyes firmly shut.

“You’re always so good for me, baby,” she cooed once she was done. You were too tired to do anything except give a soft smile in response. “You want to take a nap before we gotta leave?”

You were asleep before Natasha could finish her question. She chuckled nonetheless, and kissed your temple before throwing the cloth in her dirty laundry bin (one that you bought her when you had discovered – horrified beyond what you thought was possible – that she just piled all of her dirty clothes into one corner “like some sort of thirteen year old boy at summer camp,” as you had said). She curled up under the thick, heavy blankets with her legs around your waist and arms around your chest.

It was nice, the silence. Natasha welcomed the sleep that pulled at her eyelids, and soon the two of you were asleep just as the rest of the world roared to life.

The alarm – one of several you had in your phone that go off at oddly specific times – woke the both of you with some loud jingling that may or may not be the music box version of some hit emo song that was popular around the time Natasha and you would’ve been in middle school.

It’s almost an hour after that when you finally regained control over your body, heart returning to a normal pace and legs not aching (too badly) every time you tried to walk. As you slipped on the easiest clothes possible (see: a hood of Natasha’s and some old sleep shorts of yours), you finally noticed Natasha offering you your phone.

“Let me walk you to class?” she more suggested than asked.

It was sweet, and you grinned widely at her and nodded wordlessly as you reached for your phone before you grabbed your backpack and she grabbed her own. It was an interesting juxtaposition, to see your powder blue Jansport artfully stuffed to brim with colored pens, notebooks, sticky notes, highlighters, and your laptop with exactly one (1) sticker (of a cat trying to climb an adorable small cactus) verses Nat’s beat-up backpack that only held one five-subject notebook, a pencil case with five (5) black ballpoint pens, two Mountain Dews, three Monsters, and a half-drank carton of orange juice. Maybe it was dorky to giggle as Nat’s thumb rubbed circles onto the back of your hand, but you didn’t really care. Little butterflies populated your stomach and limbs, but they aren’t nervous. They were too excited to be nervous, preoccupied with the intimidating pretty girl who had accepted you into her tight personal bubble.

The walk to campus wasn’t far, cliques of freshman with lanyards around their necks and frat boys wearing Supreme became more frequent as you neared the on-campus housing area.

When you breach the official campus it’s another ten minutes until you make your way into the hall where your class is being held. Just as the two of you sit down in your seats way in the back, the professor comes in, calmly places his light brown leather briefcase on the table at the front of the class, and then coolly announces that the class will be having a “surprise assessment.”

“You’ll get forty-five minutes once you hear the sound of the timer starting, any unfinished assessments will receive a failing grade,” the professor said with some paradoxical mix of apathy and malice. With each passing second, the lecture hall becomes more and more ablaze with increasing heart beats and sweaty palms.

Immediately, you could feel Natasha tense next to you. As the TA helped pass the quizzes out, you tried to take a moment to grasp her shaking hand. As you wrap your fingers around hers, you tried to reassure her. “It’ll be okay,” you mouthed. “I promise.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything, just sucks in a deep breath and clicks the (your) mechanical pencil to push the lead forward before writing down her name and the date onto the misleadingly thin stack of perfectly stapled paper.

The TA is a dick, even you’d admit that. But she sure does know how to perfect mundane tasks.

As you start on your own quiz, you realize that this isn’t that hard. It’s a few multiple-choice questions, a short essay about Lacan’s influence on Butler. Most of the short-answers questions focus on Baudrillard’s theory about the Gulf War – specifically the role of the media. You’d studied for this, you’ve studied with Natasha for this. Sure, the question on Zizek’s death drive might be a bit tricky, but you’re sure she can figure them out – she’s smart, you’ve explained this to her several times.

With that final thought, you began.

The finished “assessments” were dropped off on the long oak desk set in the center front of the lecture hall, the messy collection of hand-written essays balanced precariously on top of each other – not unlike a late-stage Jenga game with a $1500 an hour fee.

Your walk home with Natasha was just as tense as expected, just as silent and robotic as you’d think she would be.

“For what it’s worth,” you said as she opened the door to her homestead. “I think you probably did well.”

Natasha, in all her dismalness, said nothing.

It didn’t take long for her to rid herself of her pants and position herself on her side of the bed with her laptop opened on her stomach and bottle of alcohol opened in her hand.

She furiously refreshed her grade portal exactly once every 10.76 seconds - just long enough for the page to load, her to log back in, see the lack of grade, sigh, take a swig of dessert wine, grimace at the cheap taste of said dessert wine, and refresh the page again once more.

You were sitting next to her on her bed, trying to proofread and edit the day’s biostatistics notes. Mostly you were putting formulas in their proper formatting, redoing graphs, and color-coding headers and vocab – something you did all the time.

Though, now this relatively-easy study technique had become much harder to do than normal because you were doing it one-handed, your non-dominate one resting under the soft, white t-shirt of the anxious redhead – trapped between the heat of her skin and the fabric adorning her body. Occasionally, you’d run your thumb over the knobs of her spine as an act of comfort, but you’re not sure how helpful the gesture is.

Eventually, you tried to reason with her.

“You know the prof said he’d have them by 8:30 tonight and it’s…” you checked the small clock in the corner of her laptop screen. “Five. Fifteen. And fifteen, sixteen…why do you have the seconds showing on your clock?”

Natasha sighed before taking a particularly long drink of the overly sweet alcohol. “I just…” she shrugged. “I’m just super worried about this, okay? I don’t want to do poorly on this assessment. It’s just important to me.”

You nodded silently before you closed your designated biostatistics notebook, placed it under the nightstand, and curled up into your lover’s side. You were wearing a light pink sweater with a matching headband, black cotton panties, and fuzzy white socks. Natasha placed her face into your shoulder and inhaled the complementary, flowery scents of your deodorant and body wash, pressing her skin into the comforting fabric.

“I get it,” you told her. “You want to do well. Do you want a distraction, or…?”

Natasha sighed, shut her laptop, and pushed it to the carpeted floor. “I don’t even know. I feel like if I don’t think about it then I don’t care and then I’m gonna fail because the magical almighty karma I’ve delicately balanced will tumble on top of me like a Jenga tower.”

For a moment you didn’t speak, unable to find the precise verbal response to such a poetic string of words.

“I just meant ‘do you want some head’ but,” Natasha moved to laugh into your shoulder as you tried to finish your thought through your own giggles. “Yeah, that works, too.”

As you both barked laughter into each other’s skin, all the worries that had surrounded her halo of deep red hair seemed to have vanished, dispersed to bother some other college student with a lifetime worth of debt on their shoulders. With the corners of her lips and the thick of her cheeks sore from the sudden happiness, Natasha curled herself into your side with her chin where your arms met the rest of your body. As easy as pre-algebra, your hand found its way through her stress-mused hair and your fingers worked out some of the knots that have found themselves a home atop Natasha’s head.

It’s silent, the only sound in Natasha’s ears the lazy thump, thump, thump of your heart and the occasional rustle of covers as your legs became entangled like the complicated French braids you’d put in other girl’s hair on the rare occasions your mother let you sleep over at a friend’s house. One of the rare childhood memories you don’t need a therapist’s house to reconcile, a smile spred across your face as you remember how your thin, nimble fingers became worth more than gold to the group of long-haired twelve year-olds who couldn’t quite emulate the fanciful hairstyles they found in American Girl magazine.

“Whatcha laughin’ at?” Natasha asked as she ran her fingers over the seam of your sweater.

You shrugged – carefully, as not to displace her head. You said nothing.

Natasha prodded. Whether it was to take her mind off the impending doom of the surprise grade or because she was curious, you didn’t care. “C’mon, you know you can tell me anything, right? Just tell me what you were laughing at!”

Again, you shrugged. “I don’t know, middle school I guess.”

She grimaced, you could feel her scrunched nose even through the thick fabric. “Ugh, middle school. What’s so funny about the worst three years of your life?”

“I had worse years,” you told her honestly. “Had a few good times, is all. Was thinking about the dumb shit I liked and did.”

Natasha immediately pushed herself up, wide eyes bearing into yours. “You, the sweetest and most innocent and wonderful nerd this university has ever known did dumb shit?”

Before you could respond she was pushing into you, bouncing you against the pillows under your back with reckless abandon.

“Tell me!” She nearly screamed. “Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Tellmetellmetellmetellme!”

You were laughing much too hard to fight her off, simply pushed at her with weak hands ad you hoped the much stronger woman would let up. “Give me as second to breathe and I’ll tell you!”

It took a minute for you to catch your breath, face hurting from such pure happiness.

“My mother was super overprotective and overbearing, but every once and awhile she’d let me go to a sleepover. And I figured out if I could do intricate braids all the girls would want to be my friend, and some of them turned out to be super nice,” you tried to calm your mouse-like heartbeat with deep breathes to no avail. “I was just thinking of those good times.”

“That was a lot more tender than I expected,” Natasha admitted with a huff before she fell onto your chest once more. “I thought you were gonna tell me you like, did drugs or something, like sneaking out at night or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes, your hand resuming its position in her hair. “Nah, I’ve been this way my whole life.”

A beat passed after Natasha released a small humpf and resigned herself to cuddling with someone she would barely hesitate to call “boring.”

You’re the one to fill the silence, hoping to bridge the space between the versions of you Natasha does and does not have the (dis)pleasure of knowing. “You know, you’ve never told me about what you were like before college.”

Natasha shrugged, as she knew what to say but not how to say it. “I don’t know. I wasn’t like, cool or anything. Just super depressed and spent a lot of time doing drugs and coding.”

In a move incredibly unexpected, you touched the pad of your first finger to her nose. Natasha, struck by the sudden intimate contact and your undeniable cuteness, did not know what to do.

“It sounds like you were as boring as me,” you giggled. “Just a lot less sober.”

Natasha let out a small laugh, pushing your hand away. “Boring is a good word,” she mumbles. She’s staring off into space now, thinking about how much that time in her life sucked. Once she skipped school for three days straight to take Adderal and snort coke and hack into a nearby tech startup, a CEO of which had groped a friend of hers at a party a few weeks prior. A few years older and she might have been a member of Anonymous, but instead she was stuck in the basement of her house wishing whatever upper she’d bought from that sketchy kid down the street would kill her.

“Babe,” you said with a low voice. It cut through the thick of her thoughts but didn’t free her from their deathly grasp. “You okay? You need anything?”

Nat visibly snapped out of it, turning back to you with a small smile. “Yeah, I’m,” she exhales deeply. “I’m fine.

She flicked your bottom lip with her thumb and stared at your face with focus you’ve only seen painting her features when she’s typing code or working out the kinks of a program or whatever the fuck it is she does. You’re normally too distracted staring at her to fully process her long-winded explanation of what she does for her internship and classes and job.

She’s too pretty, you couldn’t help it.

“You have the softest lips I’ve ever felt,” Natasha mumbled. Her eyes skipped between your glassy eyes and shallow breaths. “Somehow, every day I find myself more and more enamored by you.”

A lump – in the time Natasha had spoken those first and last words – had formed and lodged itself in your throat. Still, you attempt to find your post-verbal footing in your shared affections.

“That’s the sweetest and most sexually charged thing anyone has ever said to me.”

The pair of you immediately fall into a fit of giggles that has both of your bellies and cheeks aching with pure joy that comes from such a statement. Soon your fit of laughter dies down and a quiet settles over you, one that comforts rather than urks you. It’s a canyon’s worth of time later that Natasha moves back up so your faces are nearly touching.

The kiss she gives you is tender, much more so than any other touch she’d graced you with. It’s not so much a surprise – it’s not as if you had never kissed before – but it is…different.

Your hands are still tangled in Natasha’s shirt, and hers have found themselves on either side of your face.

“This,” she only speaks when you pull away to breathe. “Is an excellent distraction, by the way.”

Again, you release a small giggle that is soon silenced with kisses that soon turn deep and desperate as she pushes you down further into the shitty mattress with her now-displaced hands.

But, as your kisses get keeps and her hands travel South, Natasha takes a moment to come up lay small pecks on your cheeks and nose.

A few moments pass with the pair of you gazing into each other’s eyes as if there were complicated algorithms behind them.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” she asks – whispering low as if you’re some feral cat she’s trying to trap…or maybe something less morbid. You should probably stop thinking any person trying to give you affection is doing it to ensnare you in a complicated plot for more views on their Snapchat story. Still, as Natasha pushes herself up to kiss you – you can hear the guffaws of the popular senior girls from beyond the bathroom stall you cried in.

“Baby,” Natasha’s voice cut through the memory in jagged motions, enough so that your eyes aren’t screwed shut but your hand still feel the cold of the stall door’s nearly-broken lock that keeps said door closed – the only barrier between you and your tormentors.

“Baby, are you okay?” her voice was genuinely concerned – and the lack of ulterior motive had you sobbing. “C’mon,” Natasha held you close, pressed to her and her soft shirt. “Baby, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

It’s hard to do anything but cry – loudly – as she pets your hair and peppers your face with kisses. Her smooth voice is calming, almost enough to stop the tears from soaking your cheeks – but each trauma from elementary to high school still cut into your blurry vision.

You don’t know exactly when you’re able to stop the flow of tears, but it seems to culminate with your eyelids fluttering shut and body slumping against the woman who holds you so tight.

This, Natasha thought to herself, is heaven.

The woman stayed awake for a little longer, wanting to savor the sweet moment a little longer.

Still, the darkness with your steady breathing and blissfully warm skin soon coaxed her into falling into a sleep deeper and calmer than anything she’d ever experienced before. Somehow, she didn’t even shoot awake when her laptop PINGed when her grade updated. But, then again, how could anything like that matter when she had you?

@stuckys-whore

#study buddy #lukis writes stuff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #avengers imagine #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff lemons #black widow lemons

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is-this-a-skam-account · 5 years ago

Text

A Christmas as (a Fake) Elu 2/3 (rating: mature)

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21350677/chapters/51132139

The second day in Strasbourg starts off with pancakes for breakfast (Eliott lets Lucas sleep in and brought him breakfast in bed. Yes, Lucas’s heart collapsed), they make gingerbread houses (yes, Lucas and Eliott ended up eating everything in their packets), they went into town as a family to go shopping (Lucas and Eliott ran around trying to find the most extravagant and over-the-top outfits they could find), and had a nice family-dinner in with last nights leftovers and they all watched a couple rom-coms (to Eliotts disdain). Lucas and Eliott shared a bed for the second night. (Lucas is starting to think that maybe that should have just not been a rule.)

The third day Lucas wakes up before Eliott, which is rare. The sun isn't fully over the horizon just yet, and the room is shrouded in a pleasant darkness. He shifts out of Eliott’s grip (yes Eliott’s a cuddly sleeper and Lucas won’t complain about being spooned) without waking up his (fake)boyfriend. He sneaks his way to the bathroom with a towel in tow. He doesn’t really bother to check the time before turning on the water. He waits a good five minutes for the water to heat up, and he’s about to hop in where there’s a knock at the door.

Lucas gives a glance at the shower and the door before huffing in defeat and moving to answer the door. And, honestly, Lucas should have guessed it was Eliott but he was still taken aback by the sudden presence at the door.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Lucas asks in a whisper.

Eliott shakes his head and rubs at his eyes, “nah. Well, I mean, yeah, but I was going to get up soon anyways. Mind if I come in and brush?”

“Oh, yeah, be my guest,” Lucas says and opens the door for Eliott to slide past.

Lucas decides to wait for Eliott to leave to strip down and enter the shower, since the shower doesn’t actually have a curtain, just a sliding glass door. However, after Eliott places his toothbrush back inside the cabinet he turns back around to face Lucas and doesn’t make a move to leave.

Lucas raises an eyebrow at him, “you gonna leave or what?”

Eliott smiles, “I think I should get to see my boyfriend naked, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lucas scoffs, “ fake boyfriend, Demaury.”

Something flashes across Eliott’s face. It’s so fast Lucas doesn’t catch it, “I could wash your back for you, like I used to,” he adds a wink for good measure.

Lucas shakes his head in exasperation, “no way in hell. Now get out so I can wash up before we wake up the whole house.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave,” Eliott says and he has his hand on the doorknob when he turns to say, “also, we are driving up to the ski resort today, so you’ll need all your skiing stuff. We’ll probably get back around seven-ish, and my mom apparently booked us, as like a couples thing, dinner at a fancy restaurant in Strasbourg’s downtown area. I didn’t want to say no, because, well...you know. So when we get back we have that to look forward to.”

Lucas smiles, “can’t wait. First official date as a fake-couple.”

��Right.” Eliott gives Lucas a sad smile, “see you then,” he disappears behind the door.

Lucas wasn’t exactly expecting for the temperatures at the ski resort to reach below zero, but just his luck. His feet and fingers already feel like icicles by the time they step out of the car. And it only gets worse as he straps on his skiis and has to shimmy-walk besides Eliott’s long-ass giraffe legs.

“Shut up!” Lucas pouts and hits Eliott on the arm when his fake boyfriend began laughing, “you will never know the pain of walking with skis.”

“You’re right, I won’t. Because I was an intellectual and decided on snowboarding.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, and is about to rebuttle when he gets cut off by Janine shouting towards them, “we’re heading over to the black diamond! We’ll meet up with you guys later!” With that the rest of the family walks off.

“You can go with them if you want. Don’t let my incompetence at skiing stop you from having fun,” Lucas says.

Eliott looks down at his fake boyfriend with a smile on his face, “are you kidding me? This is the most fun I’ve had on these family trips, like, ever! I wouldn’t leave you for world.”

Lucas is barely able to register what Eliott is saying because his damn skis decide to slip on a giant ice patch. He yelps as he goes down, and grabs onto Eliott’s arm yanking him down as well. They both ;and with an “oof” on the ice patch. Lucas groans and already knows that there will for sure be a bruise there tomorrow.

“Oh, shit,” Eliott says with a groan as he sits up and rubs the back of his head, “you really felt the need to be bring me down with you, huh?”

“If we go down, we go down together,” Lucas says as he rises from the ground.

“You did NOT just quote a Chainsmokers song at me, did you?”

Lucas laughs as he is pulled up off his bum by Eliott, who, as they walk away, feels the need to keep their hands entwined. When Lucas tells him he would like his hand back, Eliott simply says he will not be releasing his hand because it is for both their safety, in order to ensure Lucas doesn’t crack open both their skulls by falling for a second time.

Lucas starts on the bunny hill, dragging Eliott along with him. They are surrounded by toddlers and elementary schoolers as they make their way down the nearly flat hill. Eliott would be snowboarding circles around him if it wasn’t for the fact that Lucas would probably eat it if it wasn’t for Eliott’s hand keeping him steady.

After about thirty minutes of just going down and back up and down again, they decide to move onto a dark blue diamond ski slope. Which was a mistake. Lucas is shaking practically the whole way up in the ski lift, and as soon as his skis touch the snow, he is sent barrelling down the hill with Eliott racing after him. Lucas, being his clumsy self, gets his two skis tangled together, and ends up tripping, flying through the air, before landing face first into the snow.

He has tears streaming his cheeks when Eliott finally catches up with him. Lucas sniffles when Eliott kneels down beside him, “it hurts. That was scary.”

Eliott gives him a sad smile, “oh, baby, I’m sorry. You did good though. I’m proud of you.”

“Did you even see what happened?! I literally flew through the air!”

Eliott laughs and Lucas starts laughing with him, but it turns into a groan when he finds that his stomach is already sore. They are able to get Lucas back on his feet, and Eliott helps connect Lucas’s boots with his skis before guiding Lucas back down the hill slowly.

“I think my lip is busted,” Lucas mumbles.

“Lemme see,” Eliott says and twists Lucas to face him. Lucas feels the wind being knocked out of him for the second time that day when Eliott’s thumb presses down and pulls on Lucas’s bottom lip. The pain makes Lucas wince, but goddamn Eliott’s eyes grow dark as he stares at Lucas’s lips, “you’re bleeding a little bit. You must have bit it when you landed on your face. We should probably ice it.”

Lucas sighs, “I’m so sorry, Eliott. You probably didn’t think you would have to babysit me during your ski trip.”

“Hey, I knew what I was getting into when I invited you along. You can’t ski to save your life,” Lucas rolls his eyes which makes Eliott laugh, “but I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to snowboarding, but rather just getting to hang out with you.”

“You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

Eliott looks at him as if he just grew horns, “of course I’m not! I’m having way more fun than if I was up on, like, the double black diamond all by myself.”

Lucas doesn’t necessarily know how to respond, so he simply gives Eliott a toothy grin. Eventually they make their way into the lodge. Eliott goes to fetch Lucas some ice for his lip while Lucas prepares them two cups of hot chocolate. When Eliott gets back they are able to snatch a couple chairs in front of the giant fire pit, which helps warm them up. Well, at least it helps thaw Lucas’s frozen face from when it landed in literal ice.

Now, listen, Lucas can obviously see himself dating Eliott. It’s easy to, since they are close anyways. But it’s times such as these when Lucas actually forgets that he is not dating Eliott. He forgets that Eliott isn’t actually his, and yet it is so easy to not remember.

“Why did you say that,” Lucas can’t stop the words before they are barrelling out of his mouth.

“Say what?”

“I mean, did you really have a crush on me back in high school?” Eliott’s silent for a second, and Lucas is honestly about to repeat his question when Eliott says, “yeah. Well, even after high school.”

Lucas whips his head towards Eliott. They lock eyes immediately. Eliott’s expression filled with a cold-steel. Lucas opens his mouth to ask him ‘how long have you had a crush on me? Do you still have a crush on me? What-what does this mean?’ but he’s cut off by gloved hands grabbing onto his shoulders. He jerks away in surprise, but Janine then comes into view with a toothy grin.

“I see you guys have made good use of lounge,” Emelie says as she, Janine and their partners take a seat on the bench in front of the fire pit.

Eliott smiles, “Lucas got into a bit of an accident. So we called it a day and got some hot chocolate instead.”

“Eliott, if you want to go snowboarding I can chill with Lucas so he isn’t alone,” Janine offers and she glances Lucas’s way, to which Lucas nods in agreement. “We can just, like, come watch you guys.”

“Yeah, for sure. Eliott, don’t let me hold you back. Go have fun.”

He pauses and with a purse of his lips asks, “you’re sure?”

Lucas laughs and reaches up to ruffle Eliott’s hair, “of course, you goof,” then Eliott is grinning back at him, grabbing his snowboard and places a kiss to Lucas’s cheek, “thanks, baby.”

And there’s that damn word again. The word that makes Lucas’s heart leap from his chest and butterflies scratch at his skin. It’s the word that makes Lucas melt from the inside out, and the ice around his heart that he has built up over the years begins to chip away bit by bit.

Eliott’s hand finds Lucas’s as they walk out of the lounge and towards the double black diamond ski slope. Lucas, being his paranoid self, doesn’t miss the sidelong glances from other people as they walk past. Though, he feels a burst of pride when they walk past a group of teenage girls, and they look longingly towards Eliott before each of their eyes slowly drift down to where their hands are connected. They look away.

When they finally get to the ski slope Lucas walks Eliott up to the ski lift. Eliott turns and pauses in front of Lucas, and for some reason Lucas suddenly becomes scared. Not necessarily for himself, but for Eliott.

It must show on his face because suddenly Eliott’s palms come up to cup his cheeks. “You look nervous. You know you aren’t going, right?” Eliott laughs.

Lucas pouts, “I know, just...come back safe.”

Eliott chuckles, “you make it sound like I’m going off to war,” when Lucas doesn’t say anything Eliott continues, “I’ll be back in three minutes. This course runs fast.”

“Okay,” Lucas sighs and melts into Eliott’s touch, “but I prefer my boyfriend in one piece.”

Eliott hums, “is that so?” Lucas nods, “well I will just have to ensure that happens.” He presses a kiss to Lucas’s cheek. Closer to the corner of his mouth than anything.

Lucas turns and walks away after Eliott gets onto the ski lift. He joins Janine under the tree she found herself. They start off the conversation light, as she asks Lucas about University, his job, yada yada. Then comes the “if you mess with my brother I will have to go angry-big-sister on you.” Which, fair, Lucas was expecting that conversation at one point. It is sort of alarming though, because once this week is over Eliott will have to let his parents know that they “broke up.” Which physically pains Lucas to think about.

“He talks so highly of you, you know,” Janine says, pulling Lucas from his thoughts, “he always has. He still thinks he isn’t deserving of you.”

Lucas smiles, “well that’s stupid. I’m the one not deserving of him. Your brother is someone truly special.”

“You know, Lucille was sweet enough. We could all tell she was caring towards him, but we weren’t sure if there was any real love there. She left a weird taste in our mouths when we met her. But you and Eliott...man, now that feels right.”

Lucas feels a pang of guilt in his chest. He hates tricking her like this, “thank you, that means a lot-”

Hands wrap themselves around Lucas’s middle, yanking him back to a hard, strong chest. His breath is knocked out of him when he lands. When he feels Eliott’s chest move with laughter he gets a flashback from the first day back in the kitchen when Eliott had snuck up on him that time as well.

“I came back in one piece,” Eliott says to both Lucas and Janine, though more to Lucas.

Lucas turns around in his arms and lays his chin on Eliott’s chest to look up at him, “that’s good. Did you have fun?”

“Very much so,” Eliott says with a smile, “I didn’t eat it like you did,” he says with a little tug on Lucas’s bottom lip.

Lucas winces at the contact, “ow! It’s still sore, you asshole!” Lucas complains and smacks away Eliott’s hand.

Eliott laughs, “sorry, baby. Do you want to go back to lounge, maybe shamelessly fill our stomachs with free food before we leave?”

Lucas grins, “you know me so well.”

Later, when they get home from the ski resort they start getting ready for their ‘date,’ both using the one small bathroom on the upstairs floor. Lucas trying to brush his teeth and wash his face, while Eliott attempts to style his untamable hair.

“If you elbow me in the throat one more time. I swear…” Lucas says as he tucks his toothbrush back into his bag.

Eliott laughs, “sorry, sorry. I’m almost done anyways.”

“It looks the same as you started…”

Eliott gapes at him, “how dare you! I have spent thirty minutes on this look! All i want to do is look good for my boyfriend!”

Lucas rolls his eyes, “oh my God, you are so dramatic.”

Eliott doesn’t say anything in response, but instead gives Lucas his best puppy-dog look. Complete with sad eyes and a pouty lip.

Lucas sighs, “you aren’t going to make me apologize are you?” another long sigh, “fine. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”

Eliott frowns, “it just doesn’t seem like you mean it…”

“Okay we have like twenty minutes before we have to leave so I’m going to go change.”

“Make sure you wear something nice by the way.”

“Who do you take me for? A guy who wears the same sweatpants and t-shirt everyday?”

Eliott laughs, “that’s exactly what I take you for.”

Lucas shrugs, “fair enough.”

He walks out of the bathroom and back to their room, where his one nice outfit is laid out on their bed. It’s a simple crisp white button up shirt and black dress pants and black dress shoes. It’s simply, but the form of the clothes definitely helps to highlight his good qualities. He changes quickly, just in time so that when Eliott walks back in he’s buttoning the last button on the shirt.

“Oooh, baby ,” Eliott says with a grin and a toss of his brush towards the chair in the corner, “you lookin’ hot as fuck! Give us a twirl.”

Lucas rolls his eyes and spins quickly in a circle, “you like what you see?”

“Oh I’m loving it,” Eliott says before reaching out and placing his hands on Lucas’s hips, “really accents that tooshie.”

Lucas yelps when one of Eliott’s hands quickly squeeze his ass before releasing and running away from Lucas’s reach.

“How dare you!” Lucas says and throws the nearest object towards Eliott.

He ducks away from the attack with a laugh. He opens his mouth to say something else when a knock at the door nearly makes Lucas jump out of his skin. “Eliott, Lucas!” it’s Emilie, “you’re going to be late!”

“We’re coming!” Lucas yells back and motions for Eliott to get changed.

They’re outside and heading down the road in the car within a couple minutes. Eliott can change surprisingly fast. A talent even Lucas didn’t know he had. And dear God Lucas has never seen anything more beautiful. When he pulled out a tight green turtleneck sweater Lucas knew he was done for. And when Eliott pulled it on Lucas was physically deceased. It hugged him in just the right way, especially in the pectoral and waist and arm and...honestly it just hugged him everywhere.

“After you, baby,” Eliott says as he holds the door of the car open for Lucas.

“Why thank you, sweetheart,” Lucas replies and gives Eliott a soft touch under his chin as he climbs out of the car.

Now, Lucas wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting. Maybe a semi-decent restaurant with prices that don’t go above $30. But when they walked in that was not what Lucas got at all. The restaurant had the full nine yards. Low lighting, real candles at every round table, small platters that cost over $40! So when Eliott walks in, Lucas in tow, and says “reservation for the Demaurys” Lucas thinks his soul leaves his body. They’re the Demaurys for the night. They’re the DEMAURYS. And this entire fancy restaurant thinks of them as THE DEMAURYS.

“Lu, you okay?” Eliott asks with a small touch to Lucas’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he says before looking around one last time. Out of fear, or something else, Lucas isn’t really sure, he grabs Eliott’s hand as they follow the hostess through the restaurant, up a flight of stairs, and to the second floor where there are less people, more decorations and a better view of Strasbourg.

“Here we are, gentleman,” the hostess says, “let me know if you need anything else.” She speaks more to Eliott than to Lucas, but as she leaves she catches a glimpse of their hands still interlocked, and Lucas swears he sees a flash of disappointment across her face.

Lucas ends up getting a filet and Eliott orders a Foie Gras dish. When the waitress leaves they are left in an awkward silence, which is something that hasn’t happened in many, many years. They always have something to talk about. Except now, apparently.

“So, you had a good time today snowboarding? Even though you had to deal with my clumsy ass?”

Eliott laughs, “I did. Very much so. I honestly don’t know how to tell you how thankful I am you were able to come with me. I wouldn’t have wanted to be here with anyone else.”

“Well you came with Lucille before,” Lucas says before thinking. He immediately bites his tongue after the words pop out of his mouth.

“I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else,” Eliott repeats, more resolute this time.

Lucas gives him a soft smile, “well I’m glad I came then.”

Eliott’s smile fades and his tongue dashes out to wet his bottom lip before he says, “listen, Lucas, I’ve actually been meaning to tell you something for a while, and if I don’t say it tonight I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to say it. I mean, tonight just feels perfect. The day has just felt so perfect,” he’s going to do it, Lucas’s head says, he’s going to tell you that this all has to end once the week is over. He’s going to say that ‘the day has just felt so perfect and our friendship means so much to him.’ End it before he does. End it.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you something too,” Lucas cuts Eliott off, “I guess it’s more of a question. This ends when we get back right? I mean, you’re right, this day has felt so perfect and our friendship means so much to me. So our fake relationship ends...right?”

Eliott feels like Lucas just ripped out his heart, stomped on it, and then tried to fanagle it back into his chest. He chants to himself: don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. Don’t make a scene. Don’t cry. You should have seen this coming.

“Yeah, yeah, right.” Eliott feels like there’s a bowling ball in his throat, “right. Yeah. Our friendship is-yeah, it ends when we get back.”

“That’s what you were going to say, right?” Lucas looks up at him through his lashes. And, fuck, Eliott just wants to kiss the shit out of him right now and scream in his face: “it’s you, idiot! I’m in love with you!”

“Yeah, for sure,” even he can hear how distant his voice sounds.

“Wait, Eliott, what were you going to say?” Lucas says and begins reaching for Eliott’s hand across the table, but he flinches away from the touch.

“I was-, I don’t know what I was going to say. It’s okay, just forget it.”

When their food comes they eat in silence. Eliott barely touches his food, because everytime he closes his eyelids he sees what could be. What an Eliott and Lucas are doing in a different universe. Eliott confesses, and Lucas tells him how much he loves him right back. They barely eat their food because they are too busy smiling at each other and playing footsie under the table to bother actually eating anything. They leave the restaurant with their hands intertwined and stars in their eyes. They are a few meters from the car before parallel Eliott can’t wait anymore and pulls parallel Lucas towards an alley, presses him against a wall and kisses him until they are both out of breath. Because, God, every Eliott in every universe has waited so long to kiss their Lucas that it all comes out in a burst of beautiful passion.

But here they are, eating in silence. Lucas pays more attention to his steak than anything else. Eliott asks for their bill only about thirty minutes after their food arrived, and the waitress seems nearly taken aback by how quick their dinner went. The bill arrives with a number written at the bottom and a “call me ;)” underneath. In a parallel universe maybe Eliott wouldn’t pay any attention to it, but in this one, when he sees Lucas frown at the number, he makes a point to type it into his phone.

“You aren’t seriously going to talk with her, right?” Lucas brings it up as they grab their coats from the coat check and head out to the streets of Strasbourg.

“The waitress?” Lucas nods, “maybe. It’s not like we’re dating.”

“Eliott, she lives like five hours away from where we live! You can’t be serious,” Lucas says and stomps his foot as he comes to an immediate stop.

Eliott turns around towards him, trying his best to keep his neutral expression in check, “maybe I’ll see her again while we’re here.”

“How would that even work?! That would blow our cover to your family!” Lucas exclaims, hands waiving around.

Eliott shrugs, “maybe we should just say we broke up.”

Lucas’s expression scrunches up, and if Eliott wasn’t on the verge of tears from bitterness and heartbreak then maybe he would comment on how it made Lucas look like an angry hedgehog, “are you serious? Eliott, that wouldn’t make any sense,” silence stretches between them, “why are you so mad right now?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Yes you are! I know you well enough to know that you’re pissed at me! Just tell me what for!”

“Obviously you don’t know me as well as you think you do, or else you would know that I-” Eliott bites his tongue. He takes a deep breath before taking a step towards Lucas, “listen, I’m sorry I’m not in the best mood right now. I promise I’m not mad at you though. I could never be mad at you. At least not for long, not when you look like such a cute hedgehog.”

“No, Eliott, don’t just dismiss this! You tell me that I don’t know you as well as I think I do, so tell me what’s wrong!”

Eliott takes a deep breath in before bringing his hands up to cup Lucas’s face, which must be cold, but Lucas doesn’t even flinch, “I’ll tell you. But can we walk for a second? It’s cold.”

“You’re hands aren’t making it any better,” Lucas mumbles and Eliott laughs as he pulls his hands away, “seriously, they are like little ice boxes.”

Eliott gapes at him as they begin walking, shoulder to shoulder, down the winding streets, “little?! Have you seen the size of yours?”

Lucas laughs, “dude, that’s gay.”

Eliott rolls his eyes, “pan, actually.”

“You are so pretentious, I swear,” Lucas says and shoves Eliott off the sidewalk.

The atmosphere between them doesn’t feel quite so heavy as they walk towards Strasbourg Cathedral. Lucas stops to get a cup of hot wine, which Eliott shares a few sips of. They also make a small detour into a Christmas shop and pick out a couple ornaments that they can travel back with. Eliott grabs a hedgehog, Lucas grabs a raccoon. Afterwards they walk the remaining distance to the church.

“Whoa!” Lucas exclaims, “it’s beautiful!”

Eliott smiles, “sure is. Too bad they don’t let us climb the tower this late. I’m sure the view up there is amazing.”

“We can always come back if we wanted,” there’s a beat of silence, “do you want to...talk now?”

Eliott sucks in a breath when his eyes meet Lucas’s. He looks enchanting in the soft light from the cathedral’s clock being lit from the inside out, “yeah, um,” he runs his hand through his hair. Lucas follows the motion and bites at his bottom lip. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but it’s making Eliott go crazy, “I’m not sure if we should talk here, now, you know? It’s late and maybe it would be better to talk alone. Plus, we’ve had a long day. I know I’m exhausted.”

Lucas drops his gaze, focusing instead on the paper cover around his cup, “sure. Tell me when you are ready. Just, please let it be sooner than later. I want to make sure my best friend is okay.”

Eliott’s heart feels like it’s melting, “my family is leaving early tomorrow to go out for breakfast. I told them we’d want to stay home and sleep. We can talk then.”

Tomorrow morning , Eliott reminds himself as they walk back to the car, shoulder to shoulder, hands brushing, tomorrow morning I tell Lucas how I feel, and this all ends.

Lucas wakes up feeling warm and cozy, the events of last night hazy in the back of his head. Plus, it’s not every day he gets to wake up with Eliott’s arms wrapped around him, a warmth spreading from inside out. Eliott has molded his whole body to Lucas’s back, and Lucas doesn’t fight the feeling to press back just a little more. Eliott’s hair tickles the side of Lucas’s neck and face. His breath a steady puff of air on Lucas’s neck. Lucas momentarily contemplates on falling back asleep...until he remembers that Eliott and him have to talk today.

Lucas told himself last night that today would be the day. He tells Eliott, either it goes swimmingly or terribly. One of the two.

Yet, Lucas doesn’t necessarily want to wake Eliott just yet, and he knows that getting up and unwrapping Eliott’s arms from around his body will surely wake him. He’s a very light sleeper. But, there may be a problem slightly south of Eliott’s arms. Because he’s hard, and so is Eliott. Obviously it’s written off as morning wood, every guy gets it, but Eliott has managed to sandwich himself right between Lucas’s...cheeks. And Lucas is doing everything in his power not to shamelessly grind backwards. His breath coming out in quick pants as his heart begins to speed up, beating sporadically in his chest.

Now, Lucas is a pretty smart guy, so he knows that he should just separate them and move on. And if Eliott wakes up just tell him not to worry. It’s a bodily reaction. It happens to every guy. But when Lucas shifts to get up Eliott’s arms tighten their hold and a small whine of “Lucas,” spills out of Eliott’s mouth, a small grind of his hips accompanying the sound. That’s when Lucas knows he’s too deep in.

“Eliott…” Lucas says as his hands come to grip on the back of Eliott’s hands.

Lucas knows he messed up when Eliott stirs behind him, responding to the call of his name. Lucas knew he was a light sleep, but not this light. “Oh, shit,” Eliott says immediately as he gains consciousness, and attempts to move their lower halves away, “Lucas, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even know-I’m sorry-”

“Eliott,” Lucas says, breathless. Wrecked.

“Lucas? What’s wrong?” Eliott says as he sinks back onto the mattress, head coming back to rest in the crook of Lucas’s neck.

“Eliott,” apparently that’s all Lucas can get out at the moment, “help, I-” Lucas doesn’t give anymore warning before his hand curves around and presses on Eliott’s lower back, pleading him to come closer without saying the words.

Eliott complies and mumbles into Lucas’s neck, “you are going to be the death of me, Lallemant.”

It’s all hands and breath and desperation and HANDS until Lucas reaches his climax, clutching at the ends of Eliott’s hair. Eliott follows shortly after, moaning Lucas’s name into the soft skin behind Lucas’s ear.

Slowly Lucas comes back to his senses. The burst of brilliant white he had seen starts to clear and he thinks: shit. They just...they...what just happened. How did that just happen. How will he ever face Eliott again? If they’re friendship wasn’t ruined after Lucas proclaimed his love, it sure is ruined now.

He takes a shaky breath before flipping around to face Eliott, who is...way closer to Lucas than he thought he would be. When Lucas finally looks in his eyes he swears he sees stars reflected in them. Lucas was expecting Eliott to maybe be confused or alarmed or...something, but definitely not starstruck. Seriously, the guy looks like he just saw Harry Style and Timothee Chalamat walking together. When Eliott doesn’t say anything Lucas takes it as a sign that he’s waiting to see how Lucas reacts - so that he knows how to respond.

Lucas honestly doesn’t know what to say, he keeps opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Should he proclaim his love now? Should he ask what this means to Eliott? Should he just suggest a casual friends with benefits situation? Eliott had that before...right? He’s had fuck buddies. Maybe that’s what this is to Eliott. Maybe Lucas was just a prospective lay and now he’s just starstruck because it happened. Oh god, Lucas feels like an idiot. Eliott was just using him for a quick fuck. Well, guess what, Demaury, Lucas thinks to himself, I’ll prove to you that I, too, can have casual sex with my best friend without it meaning anything. Just watch.

#skam #skam france

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allsortsofgeekery · 5 years ago

Text

One of Us is Lying: Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Synopsis: Five students walk into detention, but only four walk out. These four are all main suspects in Remy Kallagher’s murder, but who really killed him—Logan, the valedictorian and student council president, Roman, the all-star athlete, Patton, the adorable homecoming prince, or Virgil, the infamous school drug dealer?

Word Count: 1,707

Trigger Warnings: death mentions, murder mentions, ransom note (kinda?), anonymous confession to murder, police mention, cursing, let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Pairings: eventual Analogical, toxic Moceit

Author’s note: Hi, all! I’m back! I’m going to try my best to make updates more frequent, now, since it’s summer vacation! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Logan

7:30 PM

Tuesday, September 25

Logan sat at his desk, tapping a pen against a blank physics handout and trying to find the motivation in himself to write anything at all. Usually, he had no trouble focusing on homework; in fact, he actually enjoyed it sometimes, a welcome stimulant to distract his brain from the extraneous stress of high school.

Evidently, witnessing a death and then being accused of murder all within twenty four hours proved to be too large of a distraction for even homework to take care of.

Grunting in frustration, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, deciding instead to check his email for the umpteenth time that day.

He clears out his inbox fairly regularly, so there was only one email in there, one from last night that was sent at 6:15 from Principal Lynch. Logan scrolled through it, even though he had already read it at least fifty times by now.

Dear students and families...a junior, Remy Kallagher...more updates to come soon...talk to your student and see if they are okay...we are truly saddened by this terrible news.

He huffed and put his phone down, trying once again to concentrate on his homework.

He liked physics. He liked physics better than biology, and he certainly liked it better than chemistry.

Ugh. Chemistry. Even thinking of that class made Logan’s stomach twist in both hatred and guilt. He was in AP Chem last year, and it was the most difficult class he had ever been in. Usually, Logan enjoyed a good challenge, relished it, even, but Chemistry was more than a mere challenge--it was nearly impossible.

For the first time, Logan’s usual meticulous studying habits had failed him; no matter how hard he worked, and no matter how much extra credit he did, he couldn’t seem to break out of a C-average. The 73% was an ugly mark on his perfect student record; he watched the low C on every report card drag down his GPA. He could practically feel Harvard slipping out of his grasp--Harvard, the college that Logan had been working restlessly since he was little to get into. Harvard, the school that Logan’s family had been going to for generations.

Harvard, the school that simply does not accept students with C’s in Chemistry.

However, Logan was never one to give up, so he studied even harder and stayed up even later doing his homework. As a result, to Logan’s dismay, his other grades began to slip, too.

Utterly defeated, Logan was just about to ask his guidance counselor to switch him into the non-AP course, when an opportunity presented itself, and Logan took it. He ended up finishing the year in Chemistry with a 96% average.

He still isn’t proud of what it took to get his grade up, but he doesn’t regret it. As long as nobody ever finds out, his dream of attending Harvard is still very much in his reach.

Shaking his head, as if he could clear away the unpleasant memories like an Etch-a-Sketch, Logan picked up his phone yet again. He debated texting Virgil; sure, they weren’t exactly friends, but he was closer with him than he was with either Roman or Patton, and they were the only three people who could understand his situation.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed in his hand, his Sherlock theme song ringtone blaring. It was Virgil--apparently, he had beaten Logan to the punch.

“Logan Sanders,” Logan answered.

“Hey,” Virgil said. Logan could hear the panic in his voice even from the single syllable. His stomach turned. “Have you checked Tumblr?”

“Er--no,” Logan began, brow furrowing in confusion. “I do not have a Tumblr account. Why?”

“Oh, shit...uh, okay, I don’t--I don’t really want to be the one to tell you, but...somebody made an anonymous post confessing to murdering Remy.”

Logan was stunned into silence for a moment, before the implications of this new development sank in. “Can you read it to me?”

“Yeah, lemme just--pull it up...okay,” Virgil said on the other end. He began to read out loud:

“‘Killing Remy was my little favor to the rest of the school.

You’re welcome.

I mean, everybody hated him. Nobody wanted to have their lives ruined by being on “Spill the Tea”, right?

Now, nobody has to worry about any of that anymore.

I’ve been planning this for a while.

And after weeks of watching Remy’s every move, I could finally see my efforts pay off.’”

After Virgil had finished reading, they both stood in a weighted silence. Hundreds of thoughts fired at Logan all at once, but one stood out above all of them: “I could finally see my efforts pay off.” This implies that the killer, whoever they may be, watched Remy die. That, he realized with a sense of growing anxiety, further implicates himself, Patton, Roman, and Virgil. His stomach churned at the realization.

“I know,” Virgil said, breaking the silence in an unsteady voice. “Pretty fucked, right?”

Logan nodded before remembering that Virgil couldn’t see him. “Yes…” he began. There was another moment-long pause. Then Virgil spoke again.

“So,” he said, clearly struggling to make his voice sound casual, “which one of them do you think did it?” It took Logan a moment to process the question, but then it hit him with a pang.

“So—so you believe it, then?” He managed to sputter out. “You think that somebody in our—our detention—“ he spat the word out as if it were poison— “killed Remy?”

“Well...yeah,” Virgil said. “I mean, either that, or we’re being framed, and I don’t know what any of us could have done to piss anybody off that badly.”

“So you are more inclined to believe that one of us is more likely to have committed cold-blooded murder than to believe that we are simply being framed?”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Wait, Virgil,” Logan started, gears in his head turning. “You—you do not believe that—that I killed Remy...do you?”

There was a long, tense silence that seemed to stretch out for hours.

“Nah,” Virgil decided at last. “I mean, sure, you’re probably smart enough to pull it off, but I mean, I’ve known you since we were kids, and, I dunno, I just can’t imagine you doing anything like that. I mean, I don’t know if you had some kind of beef with Remy or whatever, but—“

“I assure you, there was no...beef...between Remy and I,” Logan cut in. “Of course, I did not...care for him, much, but I would never do something to that extent. Obviously.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Another pause. Then: “You don’t think I did it, right?”

“No,” Logan answered immediately. “To reiterate what you have already stated, I have known you since childhood, and nothing that I know about you leads me to believe that you would do anything of the sort.”

He could practically hear Virgil relax on the other end of the line. “Okay...cool,” he said, and Logan could sense the difference in his tone. “So then...who do you think did it? Roman or...or...the other kid?”

“Patton,” Logan corrected, exasperated. “You really should know his name. And I do not know very much about either of them, and nothing that I do know about them entices me to suspect either above the other. If you ask me, this whole...Tumblr post is an elaborate prank. A terrible one, but a prank nonetheless. As you have previously stated, none of us, to our knowledge, have done anything to upset anybody enough to frame us, correct?”

“Well...yeah, I guess. But the police are still gonna have to look into it, yeah?”

“Certainly. But, with no further evidence other than that Tumblr post, none of us can be implicated, correct?” Logan was reassuring himself just as much as Virgil at this point; perhaps if he said it enough, it would become true.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Still, there’s no way Remy’s death was an accident, right?”

“That is true. Again, I do not know enough about Patton or Roman to suspect either of them more than the other, but they do not seem like the murdering type. But I also do not know if either of them may or may not have had a motive. Or,” he continued, “maybe one of them had gotten somebody angry enough to frame them, and inadvertently dragged us down with them.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, still sounding generally unconvinced. “Okay. You’re probably right. I mean, maybe one of them got worried enough about winding up on “Spill the Tea” or something? They looked pretty weird when the police officer asked us that this morning...but, I mean, you did, too, and I dunno if you’re hiding anything, but…” he grunted in frustration. Logan could feel his face growing hot again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like...you know what I’m trying to say. Everybody in school’s been worried about ending up on it at some point, right? I wonder if either of them did anything bad enough that they really didn’t want people to know...but that still doesn’t explain the Tumblr post—“

“Indeed,” Logan said quickly, face burning and suddenly eager to end the conversation. “My apologies, Virgil, but I need to go—I have to...er...finish my homework.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Virgil said. “See you tomorrow, I guess?”

“Indeed. Goodnight, Virgil.”

“‘Night, Logan.” He hung up.

Logan tossed his phone onto his bed, and noticed that his right hand was clenched in a fist, nails biting into tender skin. He released the fist and flexed his fingers a few times, trying to will his heart rate to go back to normal. Virgil’s words from earlier that day came to him.

“Everybody has secrets.”

Virgil had been right. But, Logan assured himself, there was absolutely no way that anybody could have found him out, right? Yes, the more he thought about it, the more outlandish it seemed—there’s no possible way that Remy could have known.

Feeling significantly calmer, Logan turned and stared down at his still-blank physics worksheet, convincing himself that there was no need to panic.

Taglist: @fandersunite @unring-this-bell @sparkletastic-cookiedough @mijako98 @coconut-cluster @cinnamonlilac @i-like-cookiesz @noremacdranoel-blog @theresneverenoughfandoms @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @lovelylogans @unipugsat221b @tinysidestrashcaptain @awkwardturtlez @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy @doodlerodoodlez @nextheirofslytherin @redhoneysugarorange @unnipanda623 @under-the-blue-moonlight @himrachel @hufflepuffgirl01 @casisnotalass @probablysomeproblems @kameraishere @ijustrealizedhowdumbmynamewas @a-valorous-choice @the-parentheticals @punsterterry @levy-the-b00kw0rm @kingwillow @depressed--and--underdressed @wigsnatchedhoteltrivago

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jayascorner · 5 years ago

Text

life isn’t that bad

~part 1

josh dun x reader

•

(past flashback thing i guess..)

i leaned on the small, brown piano as i listened to my boyfriend play beautiful sounding chords on it. i watched his fingers glide across the keys, something about his fingers playing made me feel happy. then he starts singing.

“you know...

i’ve always been collected, calm, and chill.

and you know...

i never look for conflict for the thrill.

but if i’m feelin’...

someone steppin’ towards you, can’t describe just what i’m feelin’..

for you.” he stopped.

“that’s all i have so far.” he smiled up at me.

i always loved his voice and how he had a natural talent. but this song, it’s like he wrote it for someone. i mean... i am his girlfriend.

“that was beautiful!” i beamed.

he smiled shyly. “thanks. i uh.. i wrote it for you.”

“that’s the cutest song i’ve ever heard.”

he smiled and stood up. he came towards me to lean in for a kiss.

that was a good day. but sadly, i never heard the rest of the song.

••••••••end of flashback••••••••

(6 years later)

obviously this is not like how most stories go. no, tyler and i never ended up happily ever after. no, we didn’t end up getting married and having a totally problem less life. life definitely isn’t perfect. and things happen, like my first relationship not lasting forever. crAzY rigHT?! wrong.

it’s really hard to get over someone that seems like ‘the one’ to you. when it turns out wrong, it’s like your whole world flips up-side-down. tyler did seem like he was the one, but i guess he wasn’t. in fact, i bet he’s already married now, he is really good looking.

i did end up getting over the fact that i broke up with a perfect guy eventually. but he is still fresh in my mind. i know, we were young. i was only seventeen. of course it didn’t work out. it took me a long time to get over it, though. even though that was six years ago, i still remember it fully as if it just happened. weird, huh?

yes, i’m still single, and haven’t found anyone, really. it’s kinda sad. well, actually

i’ve found someone. his name is josh.

it wasn’t until later that night, or should i say morning, i got a call from josh.

i picked up my phone to answer the call. it was strange he was calling me at 12 in the morning, so something must’ve been up.

“hey jish. why are you up so late?” i asked through the line.

“sorry y/n. i just wanted you to know that my band made a new album.”

oh yeah! he’s in a band! twenty one pilots! i forgot!

i’ve listened to stressed out, but not anything else really. only because it’s been on the radio a couple times. but the lead singer’s voice sounds very familiar.

“oh. ok... what’s it called?”

“oh it’s called trench.” he said.

“did y’all just now release it?” i asked.

“yup. i bet our fans are going ballistic. we haven’t released an album for a long while, ” he said, chuckling. i laughed “they probably are.” “well, i’m telling everybody in my contacts and i guess you were the first person i thought of.”

i could feel that he was smiling through the other line. “really?!” i asked, all the sudden feeling really happy.

“yeah...anyways, sorry for bothering you.” he apologized.

“no no you weren’t bothering me. i’m wide awake.”

“oh good...are you bored?”

well..i mean...kinda. ok yeah. i’m bored now that i think of it.

“yeah i am bored, actually. i have nothing to do.” i said.

“ok do you want to come stay with me? i’ll just be contacting all my friends about the album.”

how could i say no? he’s offering me an opportunity not to be bored out of my mind! yay!

“yes. anything to make me not bored. uh...you have food right?” i asked, suddenly feeling hunger in my stomach.

“yeah? why?” he asked, confused.

“i don’t know...i’m hungry for some reason.”

“you like pickles?”

“I LOVE PICKLES DO YOU HAVE THEM?!” i asked, pure joy coming out of my voice.

“yeah actually, i have a huge jar of them. i got it from a friend. i’m pretty sure it was a joke, but you can have some.”

“OH MY GOSH REALLY?? THAT IS ACTUALLY A LIFE SAVER. PICKLES ARE LITERALLY MY HOLY GRAIL!”

apparently that was funny to josh because he started cracking up. but really, i was being serious.

“okay then— you-you can have the pick-pickles” he said in between laughs.

“YESS THANK YOU!! okay so i’ll come over right now. we can listen to the album.”

“okay sounds great.”

“‘kay, bye jishwa.”

“bye (y/n/n).”

i ended the call. i’ve always like the nickname he had for me. like, it’s unique. only he calls me that. if someone else calls me that in front of josh, he’ll be like ‘nope. get your own nickname for her’ or something like that. is pretty amusing. he’s also protective over me, and i really appreciate that.

“LET’S GO WOOOO!! I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT IT’S IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!! WOOOOO!!!” i shouted to myself as i grabbed my keys. i tossed them and caught them like a cool person and walked out the door.

“wait.....” i realized i literally had a tank top and shorts on. AND NO SHOES. “i do not look presentable, do i?” i said to myself.

later when i put better clothes on, like a t-shirt and leggings, i slipped on some tennis shoes before finally walking out the door with my keys.

~lil time skip~

*knock knock knock*

i waited for the door to open.

the door opened with josh in a t-shirt and pants. somehow, the man still seemed to attract me.

“hey! that was fast.” josh said, a big smile spread across his face.

“you know me.” i said, josh making a way for me to come in. i spread my arms out so i could hug him. i don’t know...i just really felt like getting a hug from josh. he wrapped his arms around my torso. i rested my head on his shoulder. “how was your day?” he asked. “good so far, it just started.” i smiled.

“oh that’s right. well how was your day yesterday?” he pulled away.

“it was alright i guess. nothing really happened much, but i can tell you that today will be great.” i said, while making my way to a nearby couch. y’all sat down together on the end.

“i know my day will be awesome . it starts with you.”

“thanks. anyways, enough with the cheesies now i want to hear the album.”

“okay. now you can do whatever you want while i contact people.” he said. i nodded in response.

then i remembered that he had a whole jar of pickles, and then suddenly got really hungry. but little did i know, there weren’t pickles so pleasing to my eye. meaning, there was only one.

“oh yeah...so you have pickles?” i ask, a smile creeping on my face.

“oh uh...about that...i got a little hungry.”

he says, looking down.

“YOU ATE MY PICKLES?!!” i shouted standing up. i marched to the fridge.

“well technically they’re not your pickles. they’re mine. i was gonna let you have them.”

“why did you eat them then?!”

“i didn’t eat all of them. and besides, i was hungry.”

i managed to find a jar of pickles, or should i say jar of pickle. i looked up and gave him a death stare. “how much were there originally?”

“um...i forget.” he said, but i could feel he was lying.

“oh really?”

he sighed. “no.”

“that’s what i thought. now how many were there?”

“...” he said. he SAID. dOT DOT DOT.

“wow you just said ‘dot dot dot’. but seriously how much. i won’t be mad.”

“...fine. about six.”

“YOU ATE FIVE?! I THOUGHT YOU DIDNT LIKE PICKLES!” i shouted. i wasn’t mad, i was just shocked.

“there was nothing else to eat.”

“why? i thought you have a lot of food.”

“i’m....on a.....diet?” he said, more a question.

“yeah. a pickle diet. not to mention, i saw you eating ice cream two days ago.” i stated.

“that’s because...“ he paused to think of some made up excuse. “i just started my diet today!” he triumphantly said, probably happy that he found an excuse that i would possibly buy. wrong. i didn’t buy it.

“whatever you say josh. anyways, it’s fine i’ll just have this pickle. i need to go on a diet, too.”

“i’m sorry for eating your pickles y/n.” he said, shamefully.

“it’s fine josh. don’t sweat it. i totally understand though, pickles are amazing.”

“they’re okay i guess. i mean, i have similar foods that you might like.”

i stop mid-bite in the pickle.

“...”

“like what?” i asked, out of curiosity.

“um..let’s see.” he looks in the fridge. “i have cucumbers.” he looked back at me. “if you like those.”

“do you have ranch?” i asked, because like cucumbers, but they’re even better with ranch in my opinion.

“uhm, what kind of ranch?”he asked.

what kind of ranch?? what is he talking about. uhh yeah i’ll have some chocolate ranch. thanks.

“what do you mean?” i asked, because i’ve only heard of regular ranch.

“like flavors. i have chipotle, coleslaw, buffalo, and jalapeño ranch.”

oh.

ohhh.

i’m so dumb.

now i know what he’s talking about.

“can you put samples in bowls so i can taste test them? ‘cause i don’t know what they taste like.” i ask, walking in the kitchen where he was.

“yeah.” he said.

with that he got three small bowls out and put each type of ranch in it. “this one’s homemade.” he pointed to the jalapeño ranch.

“so it must be good.” i said with a smile.

“i don’t know, do you like spicy?” he asked. i shrugged “depends on how spicy it is.” i dipped a cucumber in it and took a bite. i stopped and my eyes widened. i looked at josh like ‘seriously dude? you MADE this?’

he quickly noticed and chuckled. “is it good?” he asked.

“holy crap dude. why haven’t i tried this ranch before? this is amazing!”

josh smiled at me. “so, you want that one?” he pointed to the dip you were using.

i nodded, dipping more cucumbers in it, as if i couldn’t get enough of it.

“okay.” he got some more of the ranch into a bowl that had enough for me to eat.

now lemme say something, josh is really nice. i don’t know if he’s nice like this to everyone, or if he has- well, um...feelings for me. which i don’t think so. and i don’t know how to feel about him, whether he’s a friend, or more. i would only like him if he liked me back, y’know, that sort of thing. of course he’s attractive to me, but i need to wait to see if he would possibly feel the same. but there’s just one thing, i don’t want to ask him in person or anything. so yeah, there’s that. phew! i got it out of me.

after a while of silence, nothing but me crunching on my cucumbers, i hear this voice in a sing-song way say something that vaguely sounded like ‘cover me’.

and then this really awesome bass line kicks in, followed with a drum beat.

i start bopping as i feel the music. josh looks over at me, and smiles at my sudden liking for this song. “this is jumpsuit. the first song on the album.”

“it’s catchy.” i said, a grin finding its way to my face.

“oh, just wait until the words are sung.” he said.

and that’s when i heard the first line. yes the ‘i can’t believe how much i hate.’ and for some reason, the voice is strongly familiar...

“why do i know that voice?” i mutter to myself, but josh seemed to hear.

“um, stressed out was on the radio a lot. you might recognize the voice from that.” josh says, confused.

“yeah i’ve heard that before, but that sounded familiar, too.” i said. i totally knew the person, he was just on the tip of my tongue. “w-what’s his name?” i asked, my nerves picking up as if i had known this guy before.

“his name’s tyler.”

hey guys, so apparently this was too long so i had to cut it in two parts. i hope you liked this first part :))

i will be updating the second part shortly, if you’re wondering :)

—yaya

#josh dun #tyler joseph #twenty one pilots #tøp #pickles #trench #josh dun x reader #tyler joseph x reader (backstory)

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bevioletskies · 6 years ago

Text

don’t you (forget about me) [8/8]

summary: despite being total opposites, gamora always considered mantis to be her best friend, having lived across the street from her since they were five. if only she didn’t have an annoying, obnoxious, loud-mouthed, ridiculously attractive, kind-hearted, charismatic big brother who liked to hover - then she would be perfect.

or: peter’s been in love with his sister’s best friend his entire life. gamora isn’t exactly sure what it is she’s feeling, until there comes a point in their lives where she may never see him again.

word count: 5.1k

a/n: fic title is from the song don’t you (forget about me) by simple minds.

“You are going to be okay. You deserve to be okay. We all do.”

ao3 | tag

Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up, in the morning when the day is new...

And after having spent the day together, hold each other close the whole night through...

Peter woke to the feeling of two very distinct sensations - one: the feeling of Gamora curled against his chest with her hands loosely resting on his hips while his arms were around her waist, her breathing in near-perfect sync with his, the crown of her head nestled neatly underneath his chin. Second: the feeling of water (or rather, he desperately hoped it was just water) being dripped onto his cheek, which, considering the proximity of their heads, was now sliding down into Gamora’s hair.

He yelped in realization at what was happening, using the sleeve of his shirt to hastily wipe at his face and pat down Gamora’s head, then sat up to glare at the culprits. Rocket and Groot were hovering over them, snickering, looking incredibly pleased with themselves. “Really, guys? What are you, five?”

Gamora stirred at the sound of Peter’s voice, smiling sleepily at him before turning to glare daggers in Rocket’s direction. “Rocket,” she growled. “What did you do?”

“Oh, nothin’. What did you do?” Rocket grinned, wiggling his eyebrows lecherously, and he and Groot promptly hightailed it out of the den. Groaning, Peter slumped back onto the pillows in defeat, noting that the two of them were alone; everyone else seemed to have woken up and left the room a while ago.

“I’m gonna kill ‘em,” Peter declared, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “And you can’t stop me.”

“Believe me, I’m with you on that one,” Gamora said, laying back down beside him. “So...you get the news today. But you said you’ve already decided, one way or the other.”

“I have,” Peter nodded, drumming his fingers absentmindedly on his stomach to the beat of a song only he could hear. “I should go grab my computer and get everyone in the kitchen. Think it’s about time I tell you guys that I’ve finally got it all figured out.”

Gamora smiled as Peter quickly kissed her before standing and heading upstairs, sighing contentedly. There was no limit to her vocabulary when it came to describing her and Peter’s relationship, especially in its newest form, but the one word that came to mind throughout the years was comfortable. She literally felt warmer snuggled up to him, sure, but their presence grounded one another, a far cry from both of their previous relationship histories.

She got up as well, quickly ducking into the bedrooms to let the others know what Peter was up to. Drax and Mantis seemed to have taken over the kitchen already, preparing breakfast for the entire group, while Yondu was drifting off at the table, yawning and rubbing his eyes constantly. “What’s goin’ on, Gamora?” he asked, stretching exaggeratedly in his seat.

“What else? Peter wants our attention,” she smirked.

“I’ve got somethin’ to tell you,” Peter announced loudly, strolling into the room as if to make Gamora’s point. He set his laptop down on the counter by Gamora, though he was quick to close it before anyone could see what was on the screen. “First, I guess - Gamora and I are...we’re…” He squinted a little. “I just realized we never talked about what this was gonna be. I mean, I just assumed - ”

“You’re my boyfriend, Peter,” Gamora interrupted exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. None of the others seemed all that surprised, which was understandable considering how Peter and Gamora had been wrapped up in each other’s arms with no attempt to hide what had conspired last night. Yondu, on the other hand, nearly fell out of his chair at the news.

“Really?” he exclaimed. “Well, it’s about damn time! You was both startin’ to get on my nerves with all the runaround, ‘they don’t feel the same way’ nonsense. Lemme guess - it was you who said somethin’ first, Gamora. We both know how defensive he gets sometimes.”

“Hey,” Peter protested. “I do not get - okay, you got a point.”

“I am so relieved,” Mantis groaned to everyone’s amusement, sinking into the chair beside Yondu. “Do you know how hard it was to know about your feelings and not say anything? For fifteen years?”

Peter and Gamora turned to look at each other, both slightly rosy-cheeked in embarrassment, but they couldn’t help but grin adoringly as well. He threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in closer, while she slid her arm behind his waist, squeezing him in affection. Rocket gagged. “Oh man, it’s startin’,” he muttered to Groot, who merely shrugged, unbothered as always.

“Okay, next - I got a message from the Nova Corps.” It felt like the entire room was holding their breath as Peter momentarily let go of Gamora to open his laptop. A few torturously quiet seconds passed while he turned it around so they could see. “I got in!”

The kitchen practically exploded with sound and movement as they all crowded in to throw their arms around Peter, shouting their congratulations over one another, getting louder and louder until Yondu was fairly certain their neighbors were going to call the cops, and yelled for everyone to shut up. Once they settled down and moved back into their seats, chatting excitedly, Gamora gravitated back to Peter’s side. “I’m proud of you, Peter,” she said softly. “I have to admit, when you told me about this a week ago, I just assumed you did it out of boredom. But I’ve seen your dedication before, in the way you take care of what’s yours, and this proves it tenfold.”

“Thanks, Gamora.” Peter wrapped her in a hug, kissing her forehead. “It means a lot, hearing you say that. But I’m not finished yet.” She looked at him curiously, but he simply released her so he could pull up another screen. “So, uh, I sent in an application for somethin’ else a few days ago. A college application, actually.”

“What?” Gamora’s eyes widened. Mantis got up from the dining table to cross the room, her antennae lit up in curiosity.

“Yeah, I actually applied to a few schools. Stayed up a little late to finish ‘em, but it was worth it,” he smiled. “And I got accepted. To all of ‘em. Including my first choice, which is great, ‘cos it’s where the two most important women in my life are going, too.”

Mantis clutched at Gamora’s arm in shock, her fingernails digging into her skin. “Peter, does this mean…?”

“I gotta do one of those sit-down interviews first, and I’m just in general studies until I can declare my major, but...yeah, I’m going back to school.” Peter broke out into a huge grin. “I’m super out of practice, so I’m gonna need some help, but it’s gonna happen. I want to be a teacher. You guys know I’ve never been great at school, but...I liked learning. I wanna make that happen for kids. Make school an awesome experience for ‘em. I don’t know what I’m gonna teach or what age group or anything like that, but...I’ve got time to figure it out.”

Mantis flung her arms around her brother, sinking into his side with a relieved sigh. “Oh, Peter, I am so happy for you,” she breathed, burrowing into his shoulder. “You are going to be the best teacher in the entire universe, I know it!” Rocket and Groot were next to join in on the embrace with whoops of joy, and even Nebula took a step closer like she was seriously considering it.

“Being a teacher would suit you better than a soldier, Quill. You are something of a child yourself,” Drax commented, clapping Peter on the back. The group jolted unpleasantly at the sudden contact.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Gamora said with a euphoric laugh. Peter made another sound of protest but ducked his head to kiss her anyways, causing everyone to groan exaggeratedly.

He withdrew from her to glance over everyone’s heads across the room at Yondu, who hadn’t moved from the table at all. “...Yondu?”

“You done me proud, boy,” Yondu said thickly, and as if everyone wasn’t already emotional enough, he appeared to be tearing up. His arms were folded tightly across his chest, his jaw clenched to prevent himself from crying. “I shoulda told you two years ago that you didn’t hafta stay for me. I was sick, but I wasn’t that sick, and the shop was gonna be jus’ fine without you. But I didn’t, and I’ve been feelin’ awful about it ever since. And you got too much of a soft heart, so you woulda never listened to me, anyway. I’m real glad you’re doin’ it now.”

“Aw, Yondu - ” Peter stepped out of the group embrace to jog over and wrap himself tightly around Yondu’s shoulders, causing him to cry out in surprise. “I’m gonna keep makin’ you proud, okay? Always.” Yondu nodded sharply, patting Peter on the back. “But...I do kinda need my job back for the rest of the year. Gotta save up some more money for tuition and books and stuff.”

“You’re hired,” Yondu laughed wetly, sniffling. “I don’t trust no one else with the register. Not even these hooligans.”

“These ‘hooligans’ are offended by your insinuation,” Rocket called without any real bite.

“Hold on, so you’re staying here for another semester?” Gamora asked. “Like me?”

“I don’t wanna rush it,” Peter replied, letting go of Yondu so he could walk back to her. “Gotta take my time and get ready, ‘cos I’ve been outta school for almost three years now. From what I’ve heard, college don’t sound like a walk in the park.”

“That’s an understatement,” Gamora deadpanned, smiling. “It would’ve been a little strange if you had your first semester of school while I’m back home. It’s good to know we’ll be here together.”

“And when you got some time for me, I’ve got some date ideas in mind,” Peter murmured, sliding his arms around her waist.

“Can we get breakfast goin’ so I at least have something to throw up when these two start makin’ out in the kitchen?” Rocket demanded. Peter flipped him off in response, leaning down to kiss Gamora again, regardless of the ensuing protests.

Mantis and Drax finally finished serving breakfast a few minutes later, the entire group crowding in at the dining table, chattering loudly over each other once more. “Seriously, enough about me. What’re you guys gonna be up to? For the long-term, or whatever?” Peter asked.

“Me n’ Groot can stay at the store forever. Don’t need a fancy lifestyle,” Rocket shrugged. “Though if we can go on more of those buying trips and get at the goods first - ”

“I seen you around shiny things, boy, don’t count on it,” Yondu snorted.

"I am Groot," Groot agreed.

“I plan on proposing to Hovat on her next birthday,” Drax said proudly, though there was an endearing shyness in his voice, too. “It will mostly be a formality, as we have discussed marriage at length already, but now feels like the right time. Then we can move in together and start a family. I know we both especially want a daughter.”

The room exploded in congratulations once more, everyone reaching around to squeeze Drax’s shoulder, or in Mantis’s case, hug him even tighter than he had done to Peter before. “That’s awesome, dude!” Peter exclaimed. “She’s definitely gonna say yes. And if you need someone to look after your future kids, you know who to call.”

Drax paused. “Who?”

“Peter will teach your children how to swear and dance, Drax, you would be better off leaving them with Mantis,” Gamora said dryly, smirking at Peter, who looked half-offended. Drax shuddered at the very thought.

“I have already started looking at places where we can open a clinic,” Mantis confessed, raising her hand tentatively like they were still in school. “I know it is way too early, but I liked the idea so much that I thought I would see what opportunities we have.”

“Show me what you’ve found,” Gamora said, brightening. “Who knows, maybe we’ll find a fixer-upper and save it from being turned into one of those franchises. Get it cleaned up so it’s ready for us by the time we graduate.”

“I was thinking of taking some local classes,” Nebula mumbled, almost as if she didn’t want anyone to hear. Gamora’s eyes nearly popped out of her head in shock. “I’ve spent far too long sitting around at home, staring at the wall. I need something to do before I lose my mind from boredom.”

“Not the worst reason I’ve ever heard,” Gamora said, relieved. “Do you want some help looking at courses?”

The corner of Nebula’s mouth twitched ever so slightly. “Maybe.”

“Look at all of us,” Peter declared, setting his fork down. “Movin’ up in the world. Well, kinda. We’re all still sort of...here.”

“Maybe ‘here’ isn’t so bad, after all,” Gamora said quietly. “Maybe we can move forward without moving on.”

“I like the sound of that!” Yondu agreed, raising his coffee mug. “I hate to say it, but...you kids keep me young. An’ broke as hell.”

“Cheers to that,” Peter snorted, also lifting his cup. Everyone else followed suit, grinning happily at each other from across the table. ______

Gamora stared out the window, apprehensive yet curious, at the iron-wrought gate that came into view as Peter pulled the car into the drive. She scanned the name embedded in the metal, and suddenly, it dawned on her what they were doing here. “Peter?”

“Okay, so this isn’t the best first date ever, but I promise it’s gonna be...memorable?” Peter winced a little. “I know we gotta be on the road soon, drive you back to your school - ”

“Soon to be our school,” Gamora reminded him.

Peter grinned, nodding happily. “Right, our school. I have to drive you both back to our school in a few hours, but I said I was gonna bring you here, didn’t I?”

She smiled, leaning back a little in her seat to fix her gaze on him. It was strange, thinking about how distant they had been a week ago, how they had slipped out of each other’s lives in the past two years, only to become intimately acquainted like never before. Distance hadn’t made the heart grow fonder, but time seemed to have done the trick. “So take me there.”

Once they parked and got out of the car, Peter immediately reached for Gamora’s hand, pleased by the way her fingers automatically tangled with his as if they had done this many times before. He led her across the lush green lawn of the cemetery toward his mother’s empty grave. The grounds were unsurprisingly empty, considering it was a warm Sunday morning and people had far less morbid places to be. So, Peter laid out a blanket like he had last time, and he and Gamora sat down, cross-legged, in front of Meredith’s headstone.

“So obviously, my mom is actually buried somewhere in St. Charles, back on Earth, but I got this plot for her anyways so I have somewhere to go. See her when I’m thinkin’ of her, when I need advice, when I just...wanna talk to her again.” Peter smiled sadly. “I asked Yondu to help me set this up as my tenth birthday present. He said it was kinda depressing, but he didn’t ask any questions, just...did it. Mantis is the only other person who knows this is here. Well, until now.”

“It’s a really good idea,” Gamora commented. “I wish I had thought of it for my parents, too. But by now, I...I’ve long forgotten how to talk to them. I don’t know what I would even talk to them about.”

“Not too late,” Peter insisted with a shrug. “After you finish school for the year and come back home, maybe you can do it, too. Y’know, only if you want to.”

“Maybe I will.” They sat in contemplative silence for a moment, the mild late summer winds whistling through their hair. Eventually, Peter shuffled a little closer so he was kneeling right in front of the headstone.

“Hey, Mom,” he said, clearing his throat. “Said I was gonna be back, so here I am. Things’ve changed a lot since I was here a few days ago, so I thought I’d give you an update. I, uh, I brought someone to meet you today. I mean, you kind of know her, I’ve talked about her a lot.” He turned briefly to smile at Gamora. “I told you about this awesome girl who was just so... confident, and smart, and passionate about the stuff she really cared about. She really knew her values, and I always admired that. Having convictions, having morals. I was never good at any of that,” he admitted, laughing. “I think I would’ve been a different person if she hadn’t grown up across the street from me. And not to brag, but I think the same goes for her.” Gamora nodded in agreement. “And, uh, she’s my girlfriend now. One of my best friends in the entire universe. We’ve officially been dating for about...thirty-six hours? But we’ve already got plans, y’know? Long-term plans.”

“I decided not to join the Nova Corps, after all. It just wasn’t for me, that kind of thing. I gotta figure some stuff out on my own, and having someone tell me what to do don’t seem like the right way to do it. So I’m going back to school next year to become a teacher. That’s the plan, anyway. Who knows, I might find something else I’m really into. And I’ll be going to the same place as Mantis and Gamora, so we’re gonna get an apartment together, close to campus. When they graduate, they’re gonna come back here and open a women’s clinic together. I’ll have another year or two of school after that, and then I’ll come back and be a teacher.” Peter plucked at the grass, lowering his head. “Maybe it sounds unrealistic, but you know I’ve always been a dreamer. I just...I wish you were here to see it.”

Gamora reached over to squeeze Peter’s shoulder reassuringly. He laid his hand on top of hers, patting her gratefully. “I miss you, Mom. I’m always gonna miss you. But I think I’m gonna be okay.”

Peter settled back on the blanket, still loosely holding Gamora’s hand between them. “You are going to be okay,” she said quietly. “You deserve to be okay. We all do.”

“The last time I was here, I told Mantis I didn’t wanna be the guy that works, lives, and dies in one place,” he said, turning to look at her. “I guess that’s sorta what’s happening, anyways. But I don’t mind it as much as I thought I would. Not when I got you and everyone else with me.”

Gamora nodded silently, unsure of what else to say that hadn’t already been said. There was something oddly peaceful about being here, something contemplative. Her mind had been so preoccupied with thoughts of the past and the future all week, that now, she felt still, and she didn’t want it any other way.

“You look like you’re thinkin’ about something.” Peter pulled his legs up into his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees as he fixed his gaze on her.

“Actually, I’m really not,” Gamora said. “I know that when I go back to school, I have assignments to catch up on, exams to study for, but...coming back here really made everything so much clearer. About me, about Nebula, about us.”

“That’s awesome,” Peter said sincerely, smiling when she shuffled closer to lean against him, her body sinking into his. “This is gonna sound super cheesy, but...you really inspire me, Gamora. I’d be lying if I said you weren’t my biggest influence, with me going back to school and all. And I’m actually really excited about it, even though I never liked going to class, doing homework, all that stuff. I get to work hard on somethin’ I wanna do, I get to be with you and Mantis every day like when we were kids, and I’m gonna make Mom and Yondu proud.”

“You’ve already made your family proud,” Gamora insisted, reaching over to gently push his hair out of his eyes, sliding her hand along the underside of his jaw. “I can only hope I can do the same with my sister.”

“You know you will.” Peter stretched his legs out so he could gently tug Gamora halfway into his lap, her knees laid on top of his. “And you also know that you’re family, too. Always have been. ‘Cept you’re definitely not my sister.”

“Good, because that would make this weird,” Gamora chuckled, leaning up to briefly kiss him. “I love you.”

Peter’s heart melted a little, tilting his face just the slightest bit so he could kiss her again. “I love you, too.” ______

Fifteen years ago

Peter had to admit, when it came to making friends, it had been far easier back on Earth than it was on Xandar. Growing up in St. Charles, though it certainly wasn’t the smallest town around, there was an inherent friendliness built into the community - “oh, you’re Meredith’s boy!” people would say, because it seemed like everyone knew and adored Meredith Quill, and they would welcome Peter with open arms. Here, however, there was a social bubble around him, partially because of his heritage (he was pretty much the only Terran who had ever lived outside of their own planet), but mostly because of Mantis.

Mantis was the kind of child that the others liked to avoid, given her abilities. Her control over them was wildly unpredictable, manageable only when she was completely relaxed, and it scared most people, even adults. Peter wasn’t about to abandon his sister, especially for friends who were frightened of her, anyway. It was why he had been especially eager to befriend Gamora and Nebula, who seemed socially isolated as well.

Their first few weeks on Xandar had mostly been trial and error, figuring out where their boundaries were - Peter wasn’t in the business of making his potential new friends uncomfortable, though he knew he had the tendency to be over-enthusiastic, regardless of how hard he tried not to be. The sisters were slowly warming up to Mantis more so than Peter, given her similarly shy, inward nature, and the three of them often sat in the den together, quietly chatting with the TV playing in the background. Sometimes, Peter tried to join in, but he found himself more bored than anything. He was trying, though.

A knock on the front door sent Peter practically flying down the stairs, resulting in Yondu calling after him from the kitchen, scolding him about running in the house, as always. He opened the door, somewhat out of breath, and was startled to find Gamora standing there by herself, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. “Hi,” he said, astonished.

“Nebula fell out of a window trying to run away and broke her arm, so Tanak and Mexa have to take her to the hospital,” Gamora said matter-of-factly. “Can I stay here until they get back?”

“Who’s at the door, boy?”

“It’s Gamora!” Peter shouted back. Gamora winced from the sheer volume of his voice. “Nebula broke her arm so she’s gotta stay with us ‘til they’re back from the doc.”

“Then let her in already!”

Peter smiled beatifically. “Come in.” Gamora shot him a weird look before carefully stepping into the house. She briefly disappeared into the kitchen to get her customary juice box from Yondu, then crossed the hallway to join Peter in the den. He was already flipping through all the television channels, hoping to find something to entertain her for a few hours. They had never really been alone before, the two of them, since one of their sisters usually acted as a buffer. Well, Mantis was a good buffer, able to maintain conversation that wasn’t incredibly stilted. Nebula liked to make things more difficult just because she could. “How long are they gonna be gone?”

“I don’t know.” Gamora sipped on her straw politely. It was only then that Peter noticed her hands were trembling.

“Somethin’ wrong?” he asked.

Gamora looked uncertain of whether to answer, slowly lowering the juice box into her lap. “The sound she made when she hit the ground…” She shuddered. “I didn’t think I would ever have to hear her scream like that again.”

“Because of...right.” Peter trailed off, knowing better than to bring it up. They hadn’t even spoken Thanos’s name since their first day here, and he suspected they wanted to keep it that way. “Um, so do you wanna do somethin’? Like, I got card games and board games...or this weird spinning toy thingy that Yondu found at a trading post for me. Or at least, I think it’s a toy.”

“I don’t know,” she repeated, sounding far sadder this time.

“You wanna...talk?” Peter wanted to take it back the moment he said it. The fact Gamora had even admitted her fear of Nebula being hurt again was far more revealing than anything she had ever said to him before. Asking more of her was probably just going to make her mad, something Peter was unfortunately very good at.

“Can I…?” Gamora hesitated. She set her juice box down on the coffee table and reached across its surface for the Walkman, eyeing it curiously. Peter watched as she turned it over in her hands, fiddling with the buttons. He had only played music for her and Nebula once, who both seemed largely averse to it, so he hadn’t done it since. Seeing Gamora hold the headphones up to her ear, however, told Peter that she wasn’t nearly as opposed to it as he thought.

“Want me to find a song for you?” he offered. She nodded, relieved that she didn’t have to ask, and held it out to him. He found a gentle song, something that soothed him whenever he was feeling particularly antsy, and set the Walkman down between them.

I took my love, I took it down...climbed a mountain and I turned around…

And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills...'til the landslide brought me down...

He laid down on the couch, his feet hanging over the edge of the armrest, and Gamora followed suit on the opposite end, albeit a little uncertainly. Their heads were side-by-side, with her chin by his forehead and vice versa. They had never been this close before; he could almost count every individual eyelash, name all the shades of brown in her eyes. “You don’t hafta talk about it if you don’t wanna. I can talk enough for the both of us.”

“Because you like the sound of your own voice?” Gamora asked tentatively.

Peter was almost offended until he remembered it was what Mantis had said about him when they first met, and he laughed instead. “No, ‘cos you don’t wanna tell me. And that’s okay. There’s some stuff I don’t wanna talk about, either.”

Gamora tilted her head slightly to meet his eyes. “Your mother?” she guessed.

“Yeah. And my daddy.” Peter shuddered. “An’ now they’re both gone.”

“At least you have Yondu.” Gamora turned onto her back to stare at the ceiling. If she stared long enough, she could pick out patterns and images in its pebbly texture. The greenish-hazels of Peter’s eyes felt too intense for her. “My parents are gone, too. I just have Nebula.”

“We can be your family, too,” Peter offered. “Me, and Mantis, and Yondu.”

“Maybe,” Gamora hummed. “I’ve never had a brother before.”

Peter paused. Maybe Gamora was in a chattier mood than he initially thought. “Why’s Nebula tryin’ to run away? You have it good here, right? Better than, y’know, before.”

“I don’t think she likes people very much,” Gamora said thoughtfully. “Tanak and Mexa are nice, but...she’s used to being yelled at, and hit, and thrown around. She was hurt a lot more than me and the other kids. It’s why I wanted to save her first. But...I didn’t get to save anyone else.”

“How’d you do it?” Peter asked.

“I snuck into a ship one day, and I called the Nova Corps. They came to Titan and tried to kill as many bad guys as they could. I told the officer to take Nebula first, but then something went real wrong and the Corps ship had to take off, so they grabbed me and her, and left.” Gamora sank a little further into the couch cushions. “Maybe Nebula wants to go back. To the other kids. She might like them more than she likes me.”

“But you saved her,” Peter exclaimed. “That don’t make any sense.”

“Maybe I didn’t really save her.” Gamora sighed, rolling onto her side to face him. Peter wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, but he had the feeling she would explain it to him one day. “What about...what about you and Mantis?”

“Yondu used to take kids to my daddy, like me and Mantis. I guess we were the only ones that were actually his, ‘cos he kept us around. I saw other kids sometimes, and I dunno what happened to ‘em. I have an idea, though.” Peter swallowed. “An’ one day, Yondu said he had enough of my daddy, and he took us here instead. Said he won’t tell me what happened ‘til I’m older, but...I think he killed my daddy. He was real mean to Mantis, and wasn’t so nice to me either, so...I’m kinda glad he’s gone. Is that...bad?”

“I wish Thanos was gone.” Gamora smiled ruefully. “So no, I don’t think that’s bad.”

“Do you wanna run away, too?” Slowly, Peter reached over to take her hand. “I hope you don’t, ‘cos...I like havin’ you here. Don’t got a lot of other friends.”

“I kind of like it here,” Gamora admitted. “I feel...safe. Like I’m going to be okay.”

“You are gonna be okay,” Peter insisted, squeezing her hand. He barely registered the song switching to something more upbeat, almost as if the Walkman could sense the shift in the room’s mood. “So, um...are we friends?”

Her expression softened, her smile slowly widening, and he felt a strange ache in his chest that he couldn’t quite identify. Then, to his amazement, she giggled, something musical and warm and unlike any other sound he’d ever heard her make before. Her grip on his hand tightened just the slightest bit, squeezing back.

“Yes, I think we’re friends.”

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn't have to wait so long…

And wouldn't it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong...

a/n: and here we are at the end of my little summertime fluff fic! i really liked writing this sort of low-key, low-conflict fic after the more complex everybody wants to rule the world, so much so that i have a lot of flashback scenes on the cutting room floor that i might post someday. if anything, i like the idea of writing the adventures that they've alluded to throughout the fic, so i might revisit this au down the road!

everyone else's songlists for peter's going-away present are as follows: Mantis - Wouldn't It Be Nice, Build Me Up Buttercup, You're My Best Friend, Daydream Believer, The Way You Do The Things You Do Yondu - Rocket Man, Everyday People, The House Of The Rising Sun, Hotel California, Father and Son Rocket - Southern Nights, Wham Bam Shang-A-Lang, Everybody Wants To Rule The World, Rich Girl, Come A Little Bit Closer Groot - Mr. Blue Sky, September, Spirit In The Sky, Baba O'Riley, I Want You Back Nebula - It's Raining Men, Take On Me, Total Eclipse of the Heart, Every Breath You Take, Careless Whisper

(as mentioned before, drax didn't make one because it felt disingenuous, and nebula was definitely playing a joke. the song at the beginning and end of the chapter is Wouldn't It Be Nice, and the song peter played gamora in the flashback is Landslide once again.)

thank you so much to everyone who has read, commented, kudoed, liked, and/or reblogged this fic! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it. my next starmora fic will be starting in the last week of september, which you can read about on my wip page (and i've alluded to it strongly here as well), though i take peter/gamora and scott/hope fic requests at any time and have a couple prompt fills that i will be posting between now and then. i hope to see you again in a future fic, and thanks again for being so lovely!

#starmora #starmora fic #peter x gamora #gamora x peter #myfic #myfic: don't you #marvel #and that's it!!#i hope y'all enjoyed this one :)#my next main fic is coming in sept but the last part of 'nothing's gonna stop us now' will be next fri #plus i've got prompt fills and stuff

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ohstardust · 7 years ago

Text

I Wanna Lean on Your Shoulder

REQUEST: from julias-trojan

Hello, I really love your work! I wanted to request a fic where the reader is a background actress in Dunkirk and she meets & becomes friends with Jack. It's obvious that she has feelings for him but she doesn't think that he'd ever like her back- until one day they get caught in the rain and she's a huge hopeless romantic so she blurts out something like "I'd love to be kissed in the rain" without even thinking and then he suddenly kisses her :') SORRY IF THIS IS TOO LONG IM GONNA SHUT UP NOW A/N: I fell so in love with this prompt and wrote nearly 1500 words of PURE FLUFF! Seriously, this will ROT. YOUR. TEETH. Title: Waiting Game by Banks My Jack playlist can be found on Spotify (this is what I listen to when I write about him and songs that are featured in fics about him) (x)

It had been simultaneously the longest, yet quickest, month on the set of Dunkirk for Y/N and she was absolutely not ready to say goodbye to everyone she had befriended, especially knowing that their journey with the film was still continuing past her departure. She was so incredibly grateful, and oh so proud of herself, for the role. No matter how minor it was. In that short space of time she had become such good friends with, not only a lot of the background cast, but also the main cast, which excited her more than she cared to admit. One in particular had caught her eye from day one, and she definitely was not about to admit that anytime soon. Especially not to those pesky gossiping boys.

Jack Lowden had the ability to turn her into a fumbling and blushing fool with just one smile, but also managed to pull out a flirtatious and cheeky side of her that she seldom showed. Simply put, she was a bit of a general mess around him and, unbeknownst to her, the lads had caught it early on and saw the change in their friend as she started to become more attracted to the Scottish man. Maybe it was her scarlet flushes when she was around him, maybe it was how much she teased him back when he did it to her, perhaps it was the way she spoke about him when he wasn’t around, or maybe it was the way her whole demeanour changed as soon as she saw him. Either way, they’d noticed but kept quiet to both Jack and Y/N, not wanting to meddle or cause any complications in their already interesting relationship. Her last day on set was celebrated, during the evening, with the lads – Jack, Tom, Aneurin, Barry, Fionn & Harry – as well as a few of the minor cast that she has worked more closely with. She was so thrilled that they all wanted to spend that last day with her, still in awe that she’d made such good friends. As the night drew to a close, everyone content with a few drinks, good food and wonderful company, they bid her farewell with cuddles, kisses, good luck and a promise of keep in touch, something that she absolutely intended to stick to. After all, they shared this journey with each other and that would always bind them all together. Just as she was saying goodbye to the last person leaving, Jack appeared behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them for reassurance, “C’mon princess, lemme walk you back.” She shivered as they stepped out into the cool evening air, the temperature evidently dropped whilst they were inside the restaurant, “Take this, can’t have you catching your death out here,” he placed his jacket over her shoulders which she kindly accepted and slipped her arms through the sleeves that were miles too long for her small frame. “Thanks J, such a gent as always,” she grinned up at him. As soon as he returned the expression, she suddenly felt like her stomach was rearranging, it was churning and tickling and she felt dread but also happiness, the most odd mixture of feelings overtaking her body. How was she going to go each day without seeing him now? Y/N had always been the most ridiculous and hopeless romantic, in love with the idea of being in love and clichés and she didn’t care one bit. Until suddenly she did and she felt like she was suffocating under the weight of her feelings. “Set’s gonna be so weird without you, won’t be the same.” She averted her gaze to the floor as they walked, her hair fell over her face and she bit her lip, partly due to nerves and partly to stop her from crying on the spot. “You won’t even notice I’m gone, you’ll be fine.” She let out a weak laugh and the brightest smile she could muster just in case he could see even part of her face, trying to make it clear that she wasn’t bothered by it, although of course she was. She was an actress after all. ‘Don’t say that, you’re the glue, the one that keeps us lads in check, who’s gonna look after us now?” His voice sounded weaker than she’d heard before, so in tune with his actions and tone of voice and everything that she didn’t realise she’d picked up on over the past 4 weeks. She looped her arm through his and softly sighed, “I’m only on the other end of a phone if you really need me. But you’re all big boys, you can handle yourselves.” Jack brought his free arm across his chest and squeezed her hand that was looped around him, “I‘ll just miss you, that’s all.” Not even a moment later a few rain drops had started to fall and it felt like the biggest metaphor for her life and she wanted to burst into tears because this was seriously unfunny. “Bloody rain.” Within thirty seconds the heavens had opened and the rain was pouring and pouring, heavily bouncing on the floor and the sound almost deafening. Suddenly they both began to laugh, there was no use trying to seek shelter, they were already soaked through. “I’ll miss you too, y’know? All of you, so much. You better all keep in touch, you can’t leave me sad and lonely for the rest of my life, okay?” Jack snickered at her teasing tone and released her arm, taking her hand in his by their sides. She couldn’t even think about that gesture without feeling giddy. “We can’t have that, I‘ll ring you everyday if I have to.” “Deal.” She smiled and lightly rested her head against his shoulder as they continued to walk, only five or so minutes away from where she was staying. “That’s something else I’ve never done,” she mumbled quietly. “What haven’t you done?” Y/N looked to Jack a little awkwardly, not expecting to be heard but letting the words fall out of her without another thought. Her head shook, “nothing, it’s silly.” “Tell me, I’m curious.” “I have this mental list where I note down silly clichés that I’ve yet to experience. It’s so lame, I know, but I’m such a girl about some things,” she looked so bashful and Jack had never been so endeared by anyone before, “I’ve never kissed anyone in the rain, and it’s probably so impractical and nowhere near as romantic as films make it look, but it’s just a thing-” Before she could even finish the sentence, Jack had pulled himself away from her and stepped in front of her, in her direct personal space, and kissed away the rest of her rambling. He gently cradled the back of her head, pressing her closer to him as he held her in place, his lips firmly against hers. Her eyes slipped shut and she tried to focus on him, and only him, the way he kissed, the way he felt against her and the way he was making her feel. She didn’t want to think about how crazy this was or how he was probably being a good friend and ticking this off her list. She just wanted to think about how this was actually happening, and that he initiated it, sober. A few moments later he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, the most handsome smile pulling at his mouth as he fixed his gaze onto hers, “Did that satisfy that particular cliche experience?” “I might need a repeat, just so I know what I’m comparing it to,” her voice came out particularly breathy and she felt like she was having an out of body experience. “That can be arranged,” he pulled her into a more bruising kiss this time, more sure of himself and that what he was doing was okay and acceptable and wanted. “There’s a lot more on that list, y’know, just if you’re interested.” “We’ve got plenty of time to complete that list, together,” Y/N’s breath hitched and she had the biggest look of relief and adoration on her face, completely matching his, “maybe somewhere drier though, and let’s sleep first because I’m shattered and really fancy a cuddle.” He had the cheekiest grin on his face as he said that, and she was pretty sure that she was about to tick off something else from her list that she didn’t even know she wanted. Fall in love with your best friend.

#jack lowden imagine #jack lowden #jack lowden x reader #dunkirk imagine #dunkirk cast #dunkirk imagines

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kimtae-bear · 8 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction to their S/O wanting help with learning Korean

Seokjin

“But you seem to be doing so well” He would argue.

“So… You don’t want to help?” you would ask

“Nonononono I would I love to help. I just meant that I think that you are capable of doing it by yourself. But if you really want the help then I’m here for you. I’ll help”

It would become a daily thing. The two of you would sit down at the dining table in evening after dinner and go through the text book. It had became Jin’s favourite thing. After a long day or practice he couldn’t wait to get home and spend some quality time with you. His heart would flutter and would smile at how adorable you were whenever you made a small slip up in pronunciation.

“Wahhhhhh, look at how good our Y/N has become. You’re better than me these days”

“Oh, shut up” you would giggle bashfully and gently shove his shoulder

Yoongi

“Yoongi, can you come here for a second please?” You call across the room.

Like most of the time, he has his headphones on but removed them at the sound of you voice,

“Sorry, what did you just say babe?”

“Can you come here pleeaaseeee?”

He walks over and sinks into the seat next to you.

“Okay, I need you to help check my pronunciation. But you cannot laugh at me. Please.” You glare.

“Okay okay, I won't” He chuckled and then waved a hand over him face and changed his expression to a very serious one.

You weren’t terrible but some words were not as good as others. This became apparent in the change of Yoongi’s facial expression. The corners of his eyes would crease and his lips upturned.

“Yoonggiiii, stooooop” You whined

He bursted out laughing but then cups your face,

“I’m sorry but you’re just so fucking cute, it hurts” He would say ruffling your hair”

“…Can we make this a regular thing? I get to watch you be adorable and you get to improve your speaking skills. A win-win situation” He smiles

“Pft… okay, fine” You peck his lips.

Hobi

You were sat on the sofa with your two text books. Korean Language sat on your lap and Korean Grammar beside you. The sound of the apartment door opening tore you away from your studies.

“Helloooooooo” Your boyfriend calls through to you. He soon walks through into the living area and finds you and your paperbacked friends.

“Oooooh, is our Y/N hard at work?” he asks

“Very” you reply, looking back down at todays chapter.

Hobi slouches down next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. You smile, brushing the hair away and kissing his forehead.

“How was practice?” You ask

“Eh. Long and tiring. Like most of the time. But from of the looks of it you have been busy today as well. Can I have a look?” He asks whilst having a peep at your book.

“Sure” You say passing the book onto him. The both of you sit there going through the work you had done for the day. He would nod in approval and point out parts that could be improved.

“But please don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re doing so well baby. I’m so proud of yooouuuu~” He wraps him arms around you and pulls you so you’re laying on top of him.

“This fuels your teaching ambition, doesn’t it?” you ask giggling.

“I mean… Yeah, it does” He chuckles, kissing the tip of your nose.

Namjoon

Your boyfriends strolls into the bedroom finding you sprawled out, face down across the bed along with texts books and pieces of paper. He shakes his head snickering. Today was one of those days where you lacked quite a bit of motivation, making it very hard to stick to your organised daily routine of learning Korean.

“You okay, baby?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe. Without lifting your head, you point to the surrounding papers. Curious, he sits down next to you, picking up a book.

“Ahhhhh, do you want some help?” He asks, running fingers through your hair.

“Ugh, Joon, please don’t do that. It’s making me want to sleep even more than I already do” You groan.

“Okay, Y/N, sit up. We are going to go through this”

You groan but still comply. He makes you follow him through to to the dining room table. Namjoon went through the chapter with you for a good hour or so.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Better” you reply, “It feels easier when I have someone go through it with me.”

“I’d be more than happy to help you more often. Remember, I know what its like.”

You nod, “Yeah please”

He smiles, kissing your temple.

“But can we sleep now? I’m tired”

He laughs and strokes the back of your head,

“Sure baby, we can sleep”

Jimin

Whilst Jimin was a dance practice you took the time to practice your pronunciation. You were sat on the sofa with your headphones to listen to the audio. Although you should’ve been practicing and improving upon the words you knew, you thought why not learn something new. Just give it a go.

It must have been just over an hour and you heard a loud thump in the hallway. You ripped your headphones off and froze in place. You picked up the pillow next to you which would certainly scare off any intruder and walk towards the hall.

But it wasn’t a robber or a ghost. It was your boyfriend on the floor holding his stomach in laughter.

“PARK JIMIN! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?” You scream

“Oh my… babe… I can’t… LOOK. I’M CRYING. THERE ARE TEARS.” Were the few words he manages to say through laughing.

Eventually, he calms down and explains.

“I come in and I just hear you talking to yourself. But then I released it was Korean and. Oh my God, baby you’re so cute” He grins whilst squishing your cheeks.

You pull his hands away, frowning.

“Oh leave me alone. I know i’m bad. That’s why I’m practicing”

“No, it’s so cute~. Listen, I can help if you want. Then you don’t have to talk to yourself” He sniggers.

“Really…?” You ask

“Of course!”

Taehyung

You and Taehyung were sat on opposite sides of the sofa. As always, Tae was in his own little world, bobbing his head and mumbling song lyrics to himself whilst scrolling through his phone. And you were frowning down at a certain example sentence in your textbook that you had been trying to get your head around and string together for the past fifteen minutes. You groaned in frustration, throwing your head back.

This caught you boyfriends attention and he looked over at you.

“Huh, What’s wrong darling?”

“Whenever I think I’ve got this sentence, I tried to say it but… I just can’t get it out” You whine.

He scooted closer to you to have a look at the sentence.

He cleared his through and repeated the sentence slowly. You watched the way the words easily rolled off his tongue and left his lips. You huffed to signify that it was still proving to be difficult.

“Let me hear you say it” He said, passing the book back to you.

You did your best to say the sentence and looked back to Tae’s face afterwards to check for him opinion. He looked back at you with his huge boxy smile. He found your mispronunciation incredibly endearing.

“…What?” You asked, self conscious.

“You’re so adorable” he smiled adoringly at you.

The comment made you flush “Tae, I need feedback. How can I get better?”

“Ah yeah, right. Let me break it down for you”

You finally somewhat got there after about half an hour

“YES, Y/N! THAT’S IT!” He cheered holding his hand up in the air. You laughed and returned his high five.

“Lets make this a regular thing”

Jungkook

“Kookie, remember you promised to help me with pronunciation tonight” you reminded your boyfriend after cleaning up the dishes from diner.

“Oh yeah, you want to start now?”

“Yeah, just give me a second” you said going to get your essentials.

You both sat down on the living room floor with the book in between you.

“Actually, Y/N. I have a better idea” Jungkook smirks. You raised your eyebrows in curiosity.

“And what would would that be?” you asked.

“How about I test you? So you have to repeat the sentence in Korean but without looking at the book”

“Wow, that is such a Jeon Jungkook thing to say. But okay.”

The few sentences you said with ease which earned an approving look from your boyfriend. But then the next one somewhat stumped you but you where still quite sure of yourself. So you give it your best shot.

But Jungkook found something about it absolutely hysterical and flopped onto the floor in a fit of giggles. You pouted and frowned.

“Whats so funny?” you grumbled

“That’s not how you say it, babe.” He laughed.

“I’m sorry that i’m so bad at this. That’s why i asked you to help me.”

“I know I know I know. I’m sorry. You’re so cute though” He kissed you forehead.

“Okay, Lemme break this down.” He grinned.

(This is my first reaction so please go easy on me~ thank you~)

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