#will poulter fluff
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give me a minute (1/2) | chef luca
pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader
word count: 4.7k
warnings: established former relationship, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, discussions of separation and divorce, luca and reader has a son, unresolved sexual tension 👀
notes: this fic has been the bane of my existence for the last couple of months or so. it all started as a simple thought of "ooh it would be fun to have a steamy smut with ex!luca" and then it turns into a whole thing with like proper angst and stuff lol. this will be split into two parts, and i think i need encouragement to finish the second part. so please enjoy this first part and tell me what you think!
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03:49 PM
Everything is fine, you keep telling yourself.
Your soon-to-be ex-husband is flying in from Denmark to finalize the divorce—and even after two years of exhaustive paperwork and mediations and court proceedings, you still don’t know how to feel about this. His visit to New York is meant to be a consolation prize for your six-year-old son Alfie, whose only facetime with his dad lately is through… well, FaceTime. But, given how extraordinarily difficult he’s being—fussing over his breakfast, stalling shower time by a record of 48 minutes, refusing to wear anything you picked out for him… you have an inkling that he might be a little nervous to see his father.
And to make matters worse, it’s raining cats and dogs outside, which delays Luca by two hours now and actively threatens the zoo outing he has planned out for him and Alfie.
So… despite the shitstorm that is happening in your apartment and out, you keep telling yourself that everything is fine.
Because it is. Your home is tidy enough, with all the toys and the mess tucked away in their little cubbies. Your son is dressed up enough; he’s finally put on his pants and shirt, although you missed a button and he won’t let you fix it. The storm is outside, and you’re safely sheltered in. And your relationship with your ex is civil enough, so you feel…
Fine enough.
But the doorman buzzes in, and you can definitely tell the awkwardness in his voice. “Afternoon, Ma’am. I have your husband— I mean, Chef Luca— I mean Mr. Bailey—”
You sigh, not having the energy to let this go on. “Yeah, yeah. Send him up.”
Alfie looks up from his coloring book and practically jumps out of the couch. “My tummy hurts, I’m gonna make a doodie!”
“No running!” You remind him just a second too late, watching him dash over to the bathroom and slamming the door closed. He has a nervous stomach just like you, and as you feel the icky twist in your gut… you can’t help but empathize with his antics today. You would be fucking shit up too, if you only could.
There’s a knock at the door, and you brace yourself as if you’re about to let the storm itself in (although, quite frankly, you probably are). Your hand feels clammy, and you have to wipe it off on your dress before you unlock the door and turn the knob.
“Hey.”
If the storm was a person, you wouldn’t have associated it with the man standing before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With boyish features and dark blond locks like gentle daylight. It feels like a reach to imagine the seven years of your relationship with him was, indeed, an epic fucking hurricane.
Still.
You can’t help that you miss him.
“Come on in.” You step aside, not really meeting his gaze.
He murmurs a small thanks and apology, a staple combination in Luca’s British vernacular, as he squeezes in through the door with his duffel bag and suitcase.
“I thought you’d dropped these off at your hotel before you came here.”
“I know. I was going to, but…” he puts down his bags close to the jacket closet, like he always does, “But I got held up for ages and traffic was awful and I didn’t want Alfie to wait even longer, so…”
“Right.” You nod absently. “Well. He’s in the bathroom, should be out in a second, so… have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?”
“Um, water’s fine.” He takes his seat on the dining table.
You’re not sure which one is more jarring; the sheer familiarity of this, or the fact that it isn’t anymore. The two of you just hovering in the home you used to share, courteous but distant.
Luca looks around the place, and notices all the differences right away. You kept the glass dining table and two of the chairs, but changed the corner seating into a plush dining bench against the kitchen island. He recognizes Alfie’s favorite stuffed bunny on the couch, although the throw pillows were new. But he takes one look at the wall… and his heart drops.
Gone are any traces of him in the snapshots of your life. The pictures are all of you and Alfie—eating ice cream in the park, grinning and showing his first lost tooth, dressed up on Halloween… He really shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed to find the wedding portrait gone, or the vacation selfie in Italy four years ago. But it hurts quite a bit to find a generic flower portrait replacing the picture of him kissing you on the forehead while Alfie, laying on your chest, merely hours after his birth.
“Yeah, I…” you clear your throat as you hand him the glass of water, “…did some redecorating.”
“It looks good.” He manages a stiff nod, taking a hesitant swig of water.
“You look…” good, you want to say. Because he is. He’s got that tan and the haircut that reminds you of when you first met him years ago. But you can’t say that. So you settle with, “You look well.”
He meets your eyes, really meets your eyes for the first time, and you try to convince yourself the little flutter you feel inside is just your nervous stomach. But he smiles, soft and earnest. “So do you.”
You turn back and open the fridge, welcoming the cold air and how it cools down the burning warmth on your cheeks. Trying not to freak out and decide what you’re getting, so you don’t look like an idiot. Your hand grabs a can of ginger ale, and you sigh in relief.
“How’s Alfie doing in school?”
“He’s doing alright. He’s enjoying his art classes. Math is still a struggle, but Ms. Rashad says his reading is quite advanced for his age.” You relax a little bit into the conversation. The topic of your son resets you a little bit into a somewhat common ground as co-parents. Plain and simple.
“Definitely takes after you. My dyslexic ass could never.”
You smile at that. Small jokes are still there, always a good sign.
“And the, uh…” he lowers his voice, “the anxiety?”
“Comes and goes. He’s been complaining about a stomach ache all day.” You glance towards the bathroom.
He frowns in concern. “Should we go check on him?”
“Sure…” You walk together with Luca following suit, tentatively knocking at the door. “Alfie? Hey bub, how’s your doodie?” It sounds silly, but you find it helps to ask open questions instead of showing your worries outright.
A flush from inside. “There’s no doodie,” he hollers. His voice is murmured from the barrier, and then the running tap water.
You catch the unease in Luca’s features, and you feel a little bad for him. It wouldn’t feel great that your own son is nervous to see you after many months apart. “You wanna come out, then? Your dad’s here.” You try to sound cheerful and upbeat, hoping it’ll hype them both up.
The two-second gap never felt so long. But the door opens, and there he is, standing meekly against the frame. Staring up at you and then at Luca.
Luca’s heart nearly stops as those big doe eyes stare up at him, a spitting image of you. The same softness. The same spark of stubbornness.
The same vulnerable look.
“Hey, bub.”
“Hi.”
“Can I get a hug?”
There’s a brief pause, before he steps forward and throws his arms around his father’s middle. Luca grunts softly, a little surprised by the sheer force Alfie is hugging him, his heart swelling three times over.
“Oh my God, look at you!” He ruffles the boy’s dark hair and kneels down to level with him. His cherubic face is small cupped in his large hand, but not as small as Luca remembered it. “You’re so tall now!”
“Of course. I’m 3 feet and 8 inches tall now. Right, Mommy?” He proudly announces, getting the exact height completely memorized.
“That’s right,” you confirm with a grin.
Luca gasps, a smile blooming on his face. “What?”
Alfie nods. “I’m gonna be as tall as you.”
“No! Don’t grow up so fast!” He playfully cries out.
“Why?”
“Because I won’t get to do this anymore!” Luca seizes his boy into his arms and sweeps him off of his bunny-socked feet, sending Alfie into a fit of hysterical giggles.
The sight makes you chuckle, but the feeling could bring Luca to happy tears. He’s been gone for so long, he’s afraid he’d forget how it feels to hold his son in his arms again. Or worse, that his son would find his presence alien.
But he’s here now. With you and the son you share. Attacking Alfie in tickles and noisy kisses, and letting the boy climb him like monkey bars. And it calms his anxious heart a bit as he reminds himself, everything’s fine.
And as things fall back into place, thunder crashes outside, as if sobering all of you back into reality. Alfie shirks into himself, climbing off of his father’s back. You want to reach out for him so badly, but at the same time, not wanting to interrupt his bonding time with his dad.
“It’s okay, bub. It’s just thunderclap,” Luca soothes emphatically over the sudden silence, bringing Alfie back down to his feet. He smooths his son’s hair gently, comfortingly. “I got you, I got you…”
“Do animals even come out in the rain?” Alfie is back to his withdrawn self, mumbling his words and avoiding Luca’s gaze.
“Some animals actually love playing in the rain,” you chime in helpfully.
Luca keeps his tone cheerful and bright. “Yeah, and you can wear your raincoat and your wellies and I’ll even let you jump in puddles—”
“I don’t wanna do that! I wanna stay home!” He whines, voice raising a little.
“It’s your dad’s time—”
“No!”
“Alfie.” Your tone is firmer now, as he struggles out of his father’s arms and runs to his favorite corner of the couch in the living room, holding his stuffed bunny tight.
But Alfie’s got a point. This is not the kind of rain where you can take a leisurely stroll in. No, this is the kind where you stay huddled inside and hope it doesn’t flood the streets. Luca takes a thoughtful look at Alfie who is sulking and shrinking from the sound of thunder, at the window completely obscured from rain, and then at you… offering an apologetic smile.
So much for quality time with his son.
Luca’s heart sinks a little. He sighs in defeat. “Maybe we should just wait it out…”
“Are you sure? I mean, you flew 9 hours to see him—“
“And I don’t want him to be pissed at me the whole time we’re hanging out,” he reasons. “Besides, I don’t think any Uber would take our order at this time.”
It makes sense, you think. As much as you want this awkward little broken family dance to end, you know that staying in and waiting it out is the best option. Alfie would feel much more comfortable at home than in whatever hotel Luca is staying in. And maybe it’s your protective side talking, but if he ever gets fussy, you’d prefer to be around to deal with it.
“Alright, fine.”
“Yeah? Is that okay with you?”
You shrug. The truth is a little more complicated, but ultimately you settle with a simple, “yes.”
Alfie takes a quick glance at you and Luca emerging from the hallway (you have your mother’s side eye, Luca always said), before returning to fiddling his stuffed bunny’s ears (your father’s neutral look of disapproval, you would say). Like clockwork, Luca takes the seat next to Alfie, while you take the puffy stool in front of him.
“That wasn’t very nice of you to raise your voice at me and your dad like that. I get that you’re nervous about the weather—a bit startled, too— but still. We don’t raise our voices in this household.”
Alfie looks at you and Luca. “I’m sorry.”
Luca nods in acknowledgement. “I’m sorry for being late, buddy.” He gingerly reaches out to touch the boy’s hand. “You’re right, though. It might be best to stay in for a bit.” He motions at the rain hammering down on the window outside.
“I told you. I wanna stay at home.”
“I know. And we are for now. We can…” Luca scans around for something to do. His eyes fall on the coloring book and the open box of color pencils next to it. Bingo! “We can… color some drawings in that book?”
He pouts, not entirely sold on the idea but not outright refusing it either.
“Or, hey, I got some new drawings on me. You can color them, too.” Luca takes off his hoodie and shows off the tattoos on his arms.
God, you forgot about the plethora of trashy tattoos adorning his skin. Even worse, you forgot how it highlights the defined curves of his biceps. Focus, for fuck’s sake! You avert your gaze towards the flower portrait on the wall.
Alfie perks up a little. “This is my old drawing.” His tiny finger pokes at his forearm, on a tattoo of a stick figure climbing up the stairs. “You still have it?”
“Of course. It’s there forever. I’ll always have it.” Luca finds himself choking up at that simple admission. A little token of childhood of his ever-growing love. “Go on, get your crayons.”
Alfie looks at you as if seeking permission, and it makes you want to laugh that he shares the same animated eyebrows as his father.
“Go ahead, bub,” you usher him off lightly, and as soon as he’s out of sight, nods at your ex. “Good save.”
Luca half-smiles. “Thanks. You should chill out. Read a book, take a nap or something. I got him.”
“What, are you trying to kick me out?”
“No, I just—”
Your smile breaks out. “I’m kidding! Go hang out with Alf. I got a Zoom meeting in a few minutes anyway.”
He sighs in relief, chuckling lightly. “You almost got me there…”
You briefly pat his shoulder and for an even briefer moment, his hand is atop yours. The big ‘A’ tattoo on the back of his hand—your son’s initial in a bold Gothic letter— serves as a reminder of what’s past; a whirlwind romance, the wild days of being a family of a merry band of misfits…
Misfits. That’s the biggest takeaway here, you suppose. Your pieces don’t quite fit right. Not without little Alfie gluing you together.
With a final squeeze on Luca’s shoulder, you make your way to your bedroom, making space for Luca’s puzzle pieces to fit with Alfie’s because they don’t fit yours anymore.
***
05:04 PM
By the time your Zoom meeting ends, the pelting rain outside is louder and the chatter inside is nearly inaudible. It feels nice for about ten seconds… until you remember that you have a six-year-old at home and long bouts of silence can be quite… well, suspicious. You pad out into the hallway to check on him.
“Let’s see. You wanna do the sunflower next? What do you think, my love?”
Oh right. For a moment, you forgot that the thirty-year-old other parent is here with him.
Luca has his t-shirt sleeves hiked all the way up, biceps in full display as Alfie colors in a tattoo on the back part of his upper arm. The boy’s tongue sticks out and his eyebrows furrow in focus. It seems like a delicate operation between them, so you linger out of sight for just a while longer.
“Why do you like sunflowers, Dad?”
The two of you have always supported his inquisitive mind, and he missed these kinds of questions most of all. Even if the answers can be a little complicated. “Because of your mum, actually.”
“You like it because Mommy likes it?” Alfie’s little nose crinkles.
Luca chuckles in amusement, sensing the judgment in his son’s tone. Damn you guys for teaching Alfie not to get carried away by trends. “Well… when your mum and I first met, it was winter in Chicago and it’s pretty bleak and gloomy and freezing. But, your mum had a little sunflower by the window—just like that one.” He glances at the little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “She said it’s a reminder to let the sun shine in. I thought it was adorable. We started doing that everywhere we lived and… I don’t know, it reminds me of home.”
“Do you have a sunflower by your window, Dad?”
His heart catches as he realizes the answer. “No, I don’t…”
“Why? You don’t miss home?”
There’s a sharp pang of hurt in hearing that innocent query. The apartment in Copenhagen, as nice as it is, has never been much of a home for Luca. He would get up before the sun is up and return from work late at night—lather, rinse and repeat. On his days off, he would either go on a morning run and spend much of his time outside, or sleep til noon and live on instant ramen and takeout. There’s no time for a sunflower by the window. No room. He made sure of that.
He doesn’t deserve one after leaving his wife and son for fucking Noma.
Luca swallows back the lump in his throat, although the slight waver in his voice gives him away. “I got my sunflower right here, bub. My little piece of home.” He taps on his arm softly as his son finishes up.
Alfie hums, pleased with how the tattoo looks, now filled in with yellow and black and brown crayons. “I think this is my favorite one.”
“Yeah? Not the tabasco?” Luca grins, looking down at his forearm—specifically at the mostly accurate red and green of the hot sauce bottle.
“No…” Alfie taps his chin with his finger thoughtfully. “This one is prettier.”
Luca maneuvers around to look at the sunflower tattoo a little better. “You’re right, it is much prettier. Maybe I should get the colors in permanently, huh?”
The boy’s face lights up. “Can you?”
“Yeah. I think I will. Nice job, my little tattoo artist.” Luca pulls him into a bear hug and kisses the top of Alfie’s head.
You can’t help but chuckle, glad to see them bonding again, lost in your thoughts for a moment.
“Mommy! Dad says I can be a tattoo artist!” Alfie snaps you out of your reverie.
“Is that right?” Your eyebrows shoot up, struggling to maintain a neutral expression while staring at Luca like with all due respect, what the fuck?
He raises his hands in surrender. “I just said he’s my little tattoo artist, that’s all.”
“I colored in all of Dad’s tattoos! Look!” Alfie tugs at his dad’s arm, beaming as he shows off his work.
You step forward, studying the results of the tattoo makeover. Every single tattoo is colored in; some accurately, like the sunflower and tabasco, while others (like the purple fish and chips and blue scotch bonnet)… not so much. You don’t know which one’s more amusing; your son’s artistic style, or your ex’s bashful look as he models the art works on his arms.
“Looks great, bub. Well done!” You ruffle Alfie’s hair, enjoying his improved mood.
“Can I watch Bluey now?”
You purse your lips comically. “I don’t know, bub. Why don’t you look at your checklist on the fridge and see if you can?”
Alfie bounds past you, towards the fridge, and reads the checklist out loud to himself. “Have you… brushed your teeth? Yes. Brushed your hair? Yes…” He flattens his wavy locks with the palm of his hand, continues reading with a lower murmur. “Mommy, I did everything except tidy up my room and play outside for 30 minutes!”
“Okay. Obviously we can’t play outside, so… why don’t you just go clean your room and I’ll let you watch Bluey for a bit?”
Alfie gamely nods and goes into his bedroom, his bunny socks muting his footsteps against the hardwood floor.
Meanwhile, it takes you an extra beat to realize how close you’re standing with Luca without your child between you. He rolls down the sleeves of his black t-shirt sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
“Your meeting went okay?”
“It’s alright.” You look at literally anything but the man in front of you, ultimately stopping at your potted sunflower by the windowsill. “That storm out there, on the other hand…”
“Yeah…”
You take an inconspicuous look at the hallway, making sure your son is out of earshot. “Weather reports say it might last a few more hours.”
Luca huffs, trying not to stress out about the possibility of street floods. Of all the things he missed, New York thunderstorms are not one of them. Still, this shitty weather has granted him some time with his son, at his former home… with his former spouse. And God, does he miss this more than he dreads the weather…
“Want me to make you guys dinner?” He offers earnestly.
You pull back, returning to your normal volume. “Oh. No, you don’t have to—”
“I don’t mind. Really. Might as well, right?”
You hear heavy footsteps from the bedroom and Alfie hollers from the hallway. “I’m all done!”
“Don’t forget your crayons!”
Alfie promptly makes a beeline towards his leftover mess. “Heard, Mommy.” He hurriedly puts his crayons back in the box and rushes into his room to put it away. Returning mere moments later with a newfound spring in his steps. “I’m done for real! Now can I please watch Bluey now?”
“I can cook while he gets his screen time.”
The two boys look at you with their best puppy eyes, and it’s the most disarming thing you’ve seen in a while—and the resemblance between them only makes things worse. You playfully roll your eyes in relent. “Alright, alright. Go ahead. Watch your TV and make your dinner.”
There’s a quiet little yesss from Alfie as Luca low-fives him before they scatter, one to the living room and the other to the kitchen. For a moment, you feel like you were transported back in time. For the first time in over two years, you’re caught between cartoon sounds from the TV and the kitchen alive again. All was well in the household.
“Is he still a picky eater?” Luca mouths the last two words inaudibly.
You raise your eyebrows in confirmation. “All he wants to eat is chicken nuggies.”
“I can do chicken nuggies,” he shrugs easily, rummaging through the freezer and takes out a pack of chicken breasts. “Or some version of that.”
Upon overhearing the key word, Alfie’s head all but whips toward Luca. “We’re having chicken nuggies for dinner?”
“Er, kind of.”
“Can I help?” He perks up from the back of the couch, excitement bubbling over.
Luca smiles apologetically. “Maybe later, my love. Daddy’s gonna be using a big knife…” he says as he checks the blade closely, swiping it with his thumb. “…which is dull, by the way. When was the last time you sharpened this?”
“I… have no idea.” You frown. You don’t even remember sharpening any knives… ever. Meanwhile, Luca simply rummages through the kitchen drawer, which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”
“I’m sharpening it,” he states matter-of-factly, already setting up a makeshift sharpening station which… what?
“Didn’t even know we had that,” you murmur plainly as you watch him work. Taking out a block of whetstone from the drawer (where did that even come from?) and running it under the sink. Laying out a kitchen rag and the stone on top of it.
He chuckles a little, scraping the blade against the stone at an angle, firmly but carefully. “Can’t leave you good Santoku knives without the proper sharpening tools, right?”
“You never taught me how to do it, though.”
“Yes, I have.”
“No, you haven’t.”
“What are you talking about? Back in Chicago, I—”
You burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that was one time forever ago! And you never let me sharpen the knives. You literally always do it.”
He pauses, grinning bashfully. “Fair…”
For the umpteenth time that day, Luca’s heart catches—this time from hearing you laugh. Your warm voice rings so pleasantly in his ears, and the way your face lights up… he almost forgets there’s a storm outside, because he’s got a lovely summer day right here in front of him.
And honestly, what is beautiful sunny Copenhagen compared to this warmth of the two people he loves the most?
“Alright, alright. You want a refresher? Come here.”
You gingerly take the place next to him, arms crossed so as to not invade his space. Neither of you say anything when your shoulders brush against each other. It’s brief, painstakingly so, but eerily familiar. You wouldn’t admit that you want to stay pressed against him a little longer, but… you do.
“Okay, so. You see this bit right here?” His finger runs up the line where the blade flattens into the edge. “Rest the knife on the stone on this angle, start from the heel—near the handle— and just… bring it in,” he demonstrates the inward sliding motion—short and precise and repetitive, “and work your way up to the tip.”
You silently watch him work for a moment, handling the knife. Firm and steady, but not harsh. On the contrary, it’s almost… delicate. You’ve seen many chefs work in your lifetime, but no one is as composed or stoic (or handsome, but that is beside the point) as Luca. It’s quite fascinating.
“And you do this on both sides, right?” You vaguely recall.
“Good memory.” He nods appreciatively. “Some people like to do each side one at a time, back and forth, but I like to do one side, get that burr forming…”
“What’s a burr, sir?”
Luca chuckles at your little Hamilton reference. “So when you work on this side, you’ll feel a nice little rough bit forming on the other side like this.” He slides his thumb from the knife’s spine to the edge and carefully guides your hand through the motion. “Feel that?“
Yes. That should be an easy enough answer, because yes, you do feel the rough edge of the excess metal on the blade. But it’s a bit hard to focus on that when you’re more fixated on the rough calluses of his fingertips instead…
In theory, playing a knife with your almost ex-husband is as bad as a bad idea can get. In practice, though… Having your hand in his again, feeling him so close to you, smelling his perfume…
“That’s the burr. Once you get it on one side, you can switch over to the other side and balance it out.” His voice is lower now. Softer. “And you just… do it over and over again until you’ve worked off the burr and have a smooth and sharp blade.”
Luca switches the knife to your other hand and stands behind you, hoping to God you can’t feel his pounding heart as his chest presses against your back. Gently guiding you through the sharpening motion—the firm, steady, angled scraping of the blade towards you. You swear to God, every pull brings him just a tad closer.
“So you basically have to break the knife a little to fix it?”
“That’s basically it, yeah.”
The storm feels miles away. His hands are still curled against yours. His chest flush against your back. His body heat emanates from within him and shrouds you like your favorite cardigan.
“Listen, I—”
“Thanks… for the refresher.” And with that, you put the knife down on the kitchen rag and pull away.
It takes him an extra second to snap out of it and step back to make way for you as you retreat back into your bedroom. “Yeah, yeah. No problem.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck your fucking life to hell.
***
if you've reached the end of this page, thank you so much for reading! do tell me what you think, reblog, send me asks, thoughts, ANYTHING. i would LOVE to hear your opinion!!!
#will poulter#chef luca#luca the bear#the bear fx#chef luca x reader#luca x reader#chef luca x ex-wife!reader#chef luca fic#chef luca smut#will poulter fic#will poulter fluff#will poulter angst#will poulter smut#ava writes
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Princess Carried by Adam Warlock
Pairing: Adam Warlock x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, princess carry, flirting, kissing
Flufftober Day 31: Dreams Do Come True
A/N: The final part of flufftober!
Who doesn't dream about meeting someone who will sweep them off their feet at a moments notice and carry them like a princess, you sure do
It was silly, something you've seen and read in all those cheesy romance movies and books, not something that you ever thought would happen
Adam never knew it was something you wanted, he never knew that such a carry was considered romantic, it was just the easiest way to carry you and fly off with you when he wanted to have some alone time with you
So it was odd to him when you got so flustered, he even thought he'd dome something wrong
How could you explain this to him, because even if you did it was something that was in your opinion best seen
You kissed him as thank you, a long kiss against his golden skin which made his face grow hotter, literally and called him your prince charming
It wasn't until later when you were in his room that you showed him the movies and explained the concept behind the princess carry
Something so simple made you that happy? He didn't get it still, it didn't seem that special to him, but if it made you happy he could do that for you whenever you want, not like he's gonna get tired from it
Besides, having you in his arms, happy, laughing, kissing him, that is his own dream come true
#adam warlock#adam warlock x reader#adam warlock imagine#adam warlock fluff#will poulter#will poulter x reader#will poulter imagine#will poulter fluff#gotg#gotg v3#gotg 3#guardians of the galaxy#guardians of the galaxy vol 3#gotg imagine#gotg 3 imagine#flufftober
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random bf!will poulter sfw headcanons for his birthday
Masterlist
summary: read the title lol
a/n: sfw headcanons for his birthday<3 love this man
Alright so
Will would be one of the first actors to come introduce himself to you
Cause he'd see you alone standing there awkwardly
And want to help
And he'd introduce himself and just fall head over heels in love
He'd take you out for coffee and scones for a first date
And convince you to take a walk with him after
You'd end up just spending the whole day together
This would definitely become a habit after you started dating
Like you'd plan a short date and end up just wasting the day away together
Will would definitely be so nervous to kiss you or cuddle the first time because he wants to be a gentleman
He wouldn't want to be seen as too forward
He'd ask you super shyly and you'd tease him about it after so so much
But then he really gains confidence after that
Like this man cannot stop kissing you
He's always whispering compliments to you in public
“You're absolutely beautiful today”
“You're such an angel”
“I can't stop staring at you, love”
He always wears a jacket even if he doesn't need it just so he has something to give you if you're cold
He can't drive but he loves getting to watch you drive and sitting in the passenger's seat
He loves watching movies with you in them but hates watching movies with him in them for date nights
He's constantly buying you cool stuff
Like “oh yeah this necklace reminded me of you so I had to buy it” “but it was so expensive” “but it reminded me of you so I HAD to”
he definitely goes overboard on the pet names “love” “darling” “doll” “sweetheart” “baby” it's just constant
His fav thing to do when he sees the paps is take your hand and just bolt like it's a game of hide and seek and you two will run and hide all around London to escape them and you both have so much fun with it
His favorite place to be after a long day is in your arms, head on your chest with you running your hands through your hair
He loves how you smell, it relaxes him
#will poulter#will poulter headcanons#will poulter sfw#will poulter fluff#will poulter x reader#will poulter's birthday#happy birthday will poulter
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Have you thought about doing A-Z fluff with Adam Warlock? I would love to see it! <3
Pairing ▹ Adam Warlock x f. reader
Genre ▹ fluff
This fic contains ▹ gotg vol. 3 spoilers!, fluff, some angst, jealousy, break-up, mentions of Adam pre-Guardians, lots of domestic shit, Adam being down bad for you, Eros/Starfox from The Eternals makes a guest appearance, lightly beta-ed
Word Count ▹ 2.6k
Notes ▹ I normally don't take requests but I thought this would be a nice exercise to get me back into writing bc it's been a hot minute. Plus, Will Poulter is currently invading my head space after the sexy dream I had of him. Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed! 😊
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
If you could rate how affectionate Adam was on a scale from one to ten, the scale would be broken. He was always hugging, kissing, and holding you. Adam’s love language is physical touch so he’d probably perish if you weren’t in his embrace.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Adam was the first friend you made after arriving at Knowhere. While celebrating the destruction of Counter-Earth and the fall of the High Evolutionary, you found Adam watching you dance. You were drawn to him like a magnet so it felt natural that you approached him, introduced yourself, and pulled him into a dance. He was hesitant because he was unfamiliar with the art of dancing, but fortunately, you were a dancer on your old planet so you taught him how to move to the music.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Of course, Adam is a cuddler! He enjoys being big and little spoons equally, just as long as you were pressed against his body in any kind of way. Cuddles are perfect when Blurp is nestled in the space between your and Adam’s legs.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
He is the most domestic partner you have ever dated, hence why you both work so well together. He loved cooking and cleaning and doing other chores with you. Being next to you and doing mundane things together was one of his favorite things to do with you. Even though he loves the Guardians, Adam pictured what life would be like with just the two of you in your own living space. He wouldn’t bring up the idea until later down the line because he wants to be there for the team as much as he can.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Adam would write you a long, heartfelt letter describing his feelings and why he is ending your relationship. You’d find dried-up tear stains that smeared on the ink from his pen, causing some words to be smudged. You would add to the paper with your own set of tears as you read about all the beautiful memories the two of you made together.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)
Adam would be head over heels for you so he is 100% down to be committed to you and only you. If it were up to him, he’d want to marry you as soon as possible. However, you told him you wanted to wait a little longer before getting married. Adam respected your wishes but he often gets lost daydreaming about how perfect your wedding day would be.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Adam is the definition of a gentle giant. Everyone was initially intimidated by him because of how powerful and destructive he once was. However, once you encouraged the others to give Adam a chance, they realized how gentle and kind he was. Adam knows that you are capable of handling your own and don’t need to be treated so delicately. Yet, that doesn’t stop him from being tender and soft with you. He just doesn’t want to hurt anyone again the way he once did.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Adam doesn’t like hugs. He LOVES them! He will hug you every chance he gets and you are there to reciprocate. His favorite kind of hugs are ones with you and Blurp atop his bed right before you all fall asleep together. All the children from Counter-Earth run up to Adam to give him a hug because he is like a giant teddy bear to them.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Adam would most likely confess his love for you after a month of being together. When he began developing these feelings for you, he sought advice from the Guardians, both former and new. Nebula suggested that he gift you the heart of your worst enemy. After a collection of cringes from the group, Drax advised him to just pull her into a kiss on the battlefield because “she will never see it coming.” The Guardians began shouting and arguing amongst each other over what was the best way Adam should tell you he loves you. Finally, Groot, who was the most silent of the group, told Adam that the best way to win your heart is just to be yourself and let it come out naturally. Rocket almost shed a tear with how proud he was of his friend. Of course, Adam took Groot’s advice and let the words flow naturally. As you both shared a kiss, the Guardians watched you both with warm hearts and smiles on their faces.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Adam doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, he does a poor job of hiding it. After he confessed his love for you, Starfox, an Eternal, stopped by for a visit. Starfox, also known as Eros, was a long-time friend of yours and it got to Adam’s head how close you were to him. You reassured Adam that there was nothing to worry about, but the Eternal’s handsome features and flirty ways made Adam consider otherwise. Adam isolated from you for an entire day, until Eros found him setting a pile of trash on fire. The two Celestials had a heart-to-heart about you and Eros revealed to Adam how enamored you were with Adam.
“Yeah, she talks about you all the time. I’ve never seen her with such joy in the time I have known her.”
“Oh.” Adam felt a pinch of guilt for being so angry with Eros. “I’m sorry for being jealous of you. I’d like for us to be friends if that’s possible.”
“All is forgiven, mate,” Eros grinned, holding his hand out to Adam. “You obviously make her happy so you’re already taken Pip’s spot as my best friend.” With that, Adam shook his hand, beginning the start to another friendship.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Kissing Adam feels like the flowers blooming in the springtime and the leaves falling in the autumn. Every kiss with him is as amazing as the first time. His lips melt against yours like the universe created you both to do so. He loves stooping down to your level to peck you on the forehead or nose. Meanwhile, you love kissing him on his shoulder or his collarbone because it’s the easiest for you to reach. Adam’s favorite way to be kissed by you is on his hand while your fingers are interlaced with his. You would bring your locked hands to your lips before pressing a kiss atop his hand and then nuzzling your cheek against it.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Considering the number of kids that reside on Knowhere, he basically treats them as his younger siblings. You love watching the kids play and climb all over Adam as he bursts into fits of laughter. When the children start fighting or crying, he immediately steps in to comfort them or help solve their problems. Seeing how great he is with them makes you think about how amazing of a dad he would be in the future.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Usually, you wake up before he does with your head pressed against his chest. You’d wake him up by peppering kisses over his face and stroking his soft blonde hair. Adam would return the favor with groggy eyes and then do the same to Blurp, who was typically the last to wake up. Your morning routine together always began by turning on some 80s music because it was upbeat and energetic. You would wash your face and brush your teeth before changing into your clothes for the day. After that, you would help yourselves to breakfast. Sometimes, Blurp would need to be fed first otherwise he would beg for the food you were cooking for yourselves.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
If you aren’t on missions across the galaxy, your night routine would be enjoying dinner on a rooftop to admire the stars and planets in the sky. A playlist of love songs would be playing in the background as you conversed and ate. Then, you would share a bath or shower, depending on how tired you both were. Sometimes, you would lose track of time and fall asleep under the night sky with a blanket draped over your body. The Guardians have made attempts to get you back into your beds but gave up when you tossed around and cuddled closer to one another.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Adam doesn’t have much life experience so he shares everything with you all at once. Normally, it would bother you if a partner was an open book right off the bat, but you understood that Adam was a different case. If anything, it made you love him more knowing that you get to grow with him and show him the beauties of the universe.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Adam can be easily angered, depending on the situation. He will never get angry with you and he avoids getting angry in front of you. Yet, you tend to be the one to find him when he is alone and letting out his anger on abandoned items in a secluded area of Knowhere. Conversely, he can easily calm down with you when your hand touches his. You help him with deep breaths and affirmations and his anger is gone.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Adam remembers everything from your mother’s name to your favorite color. On the flip side, he will forget anything that Rocket will tell him, even if it was something important. The Guardians say he has a selective hearing for you because he is so wrapped up in his love for you. Sometimes, you will have to repeat what Rocket says back to Adam because he is more likely to remember important things if you are the one exchanging information with him.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
His favorite memory with you is when you first met. Adam couldn’t help but watch you dance to Florence and the Machine. Even when you laid eyes on him, his gaze was still locked on you. He was grateful you were confident enough to introduce yourself to him and ask him to dance. He was nervous and tripped over his own feet and words, but you didn’t seem bothered at all by it. Having your body against his ignited a fire inside him that he did not know could exist. Little did he know that you were feeling the same exact thing as him.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Adam is sooooo protective. Not just of you, but with the Guardians and the citizens of Knowhere. He wasn’t able to protect his mother from her untimely death and he is still haunted by it. So he goes to extreme lengths to protect everyone he loves. He isn’t all that concerned about his own safety because he knows he is powerful enough to protect himself. Adam is the type to make sacrifices for the better of everyone else even if it means getting hurt in the process. At least you are there to tend to his wounds when he is done protecting everyone.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Adam puts a lot of effort into his relationship with you. He is always the first one to sing “Happy Birthday” to you on your birthday and make it a special day for you. The Sovereign will get assistance from Mantis and Drax to set up dates, parties, and gifts for you. This usually leads to Mantis and Drax bickering over what Adam should write on cards or if he should get you candy or stuffed animals. Sometimes, their bickering would be so loud that Adam’s surprises for you would get spoiled because you would be eavesdropping on their conversations. At the end of it all, you loved the lengths Adam went through to make you happy and loved. But you still suggested that Adam seek help from someone other than Mantis and Drax if he wants the surprises to be successful.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
At first, it was cute when Adam had selective hearing/memory for you, but after a while, it became a little concerning. Especially when he would forget stuff regarding missions. You confronted Adam in a gentle way and he agreed to work on his listening skills. He has improved in listening to Rocket, but he still struggles to remember Rocket’s favorite song.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Adam isn’t too concerned with his looks. Perhaps the reason being his young mind hasn’t allowed him to be self-aware of his looks. Either way, he is content with how he looks because appearance doesn’t change how people view him.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
As mentioned previously, he would perish without you by his side.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Peter Quill returned to Knowhere for a short visit. He showered everyone with gifts, Adam receiving a Polaroid. Quill taught him how to use the camera and even took a selfie with him. Adam was so excited to show you his gift that he ran up to you and took a picture of you admiring the ballet slippers Quill gifted you with. Now, Adam’s room is covered in Polaroids of you and him, but he cherishes the photo of you smiling down at the slippers you loved dancing in.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
He would not be fond of self-deprecating behaviors from himself or a partner. Adam understood that everyone has their flaws, but it makes him sad when he sees others put themselves down because he believes that anyone can be redeemed. He is a prime example of second chances. That being said, he would have zero tolerance for anyone who picks on you or his friends. Adam has no problem putting bullies in their places.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
Adam sleeps better when you and Blurp are sharing the bed with him. When either one of you is missing, his sleep gets disrupted. And when he isn’t fully rested, it affects his mood and performance on missions and everyday tasks. Something that helps when you are away is listening to songs that remind him of you and looking at Polaroids of you.
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#adam warlock#will poulter#guardians of the galaxy volume 3#gotg vol 3#adam warlock x reader#adam warlock x you#adam warlock fluff#adam warlock headcanons#adam warlock fic#adam warlock fanfiction#adam warlock imagine#will poulter x reader#will poulter x you#will poulter fluff#will poulter imagine#will poulter fic#fluff headcanons#fluff alphabet
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will poulter would give the most bombastic side eye ever . . .
#will poulter#tmr gally#tmr#tmr cast#will poulter x reader#will poulter angst#will poulter smut#will poulter fluff#my post#side eye#bombastic side eye#ramble#might delete later
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Home for the Holidays - Will Poulter x Reader
God you guys have no idea how long I was working on this, writer's block and depression are a bitch.
Anyway finally getting my shit together and really wanted to finish this before moving on to something else.
Hope you like it
Warnings: Some swearing, a tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff
Word Count: 3,304
Summary: You take your boyfriend home to meet your family for the first time and it takes an unexpected turn.
Under the cut for length.
Introducing your boyfriend to the family was never an easy thing to do. Especially around the holidays.
You haven't seen your parents in a while and they've been itching to meet the new beau since you first made it official two summers ago.
This is huge.
What if they don't like him? What if he doesn't like them?
Anxiety flushes over your arrival at the airport. A million thoughts race through your mind on how this can end so horribly.
"Hey" a voice snaps you from your trance.
You look over at your boyfriend, concern on his face. Reaching over to grab your hand before giving it a gentle squeeze.
"It'll be fine I promise. They'll love me" he says matter of factly.
You hear them calling your boarding group and before you have a second to contemplate it any further you're making your way toward the gate.
Here goes nothing.
Driving through your hometown is always so weird. The nostalgia that flows can be overwhelming, relieving memories so vividly as you pass through certain areas.
You miss it you do. But you left and that part of your life is behind you now.
Walking up the steps to your family home the nerves set in again. Go away, you tell yourself as you try to shake them off before ringing the bell.
They'll love him.
They'll love him.
They'll love him…
"Y/n! Oh, honey, we're so glad you're home!" Your mom says pulling you into a bear hug. "We've missed you so much"
She pulls away briefly looking around before meeting your face again. "Y/n, where is he? Your bae" she says teasingly, "You said he was coming to meet us"
"He's just getting the bags from the trunk I'm sure he's-"
Your mom all but screams when she sees your boyfriend finally.
"Hey Mrs. Y/L/N! It's so nice to finally meet you" he says holding his hand to meet your moms for a handshake.
"Mom, this is Michael"
"It's so wonderful to meet you too! Oh my gosh y/n isn't he just the cutest"
She likes him. That's good?
"Let's get you both inside"
You're home.
Walking through your childhood home sent so many memories flooding through your brain. Walking up the stairs, looking at all the photos that line the walls.
Nostalgia hits you like a brick wall as soon as you enter your old bedroom.
Michael lets out an audible laugh when he sees some of your childhood photos.
"It was a phase okay? Don't laugh" You playfully scold.
"I don't know I'm kinda digging this look more. Maybe you need to bring this back" he teases as he draws closer to you. His hands raking up your hips.
You press your lips to his chest, "maybe if your lucky I'll dig that shirt out later"
But before Michael can answer your mom hollered from downstairs.
"Y/n your father's home! Come on downstairs"
Mom's no big deal compared to Dad.
You feel the worry and anxiety wash over you again but before you can get lost in your thoughts Michael squeezes your sides tight.
"Hey, it'll be fine, alright?"
You nod and make your way downstairs with Michael in tote.
As you turn the corner wrapping around the stairs you meet your father's eyesight.
"There's my girl" your dad shouts from the bottom.
"Dad!"
You make your way down the stairs to meet your father's warm embrace.
"I've missed you so much sweetheart," he says squeezing you tighter.
"I missed you too dad"
He holds you just a moment longer before letting go and finally laying his eyes on Michael standing behind you.
"Ah, this must be Michael. Put her there son" he says holding his hand out for a handshake
"Pleasure to meet you, Sir"
So polite.
"Pleasures all mine"
Going well so far.
"Whaddya say about a beer son? I'll show you the man cave in the basement."
Michael looks towards you briefly for a moment before your father speaks up, "I'm sure y/n and her mother have some catching up to do so it'll give us a chance to get to know each other"
"Yes sir"
"Alright y/n, we'll see you later. If your mom asks where I am tell her I'm in the basement"
And with that, they were gone. He whisked your boyfriend away to the "man cave".
Fingers crossed they get along. God, you hope they get along.
Walking into the kitchen brings back old memories of rushing out of the house to get to school.
Those random bake sales you did with your girlfriends. And you can't forget the late nights spent hanging out with friends.
You've kept in contact with most of your old friends, and a few you've grown apart. Life just gets in the way and it's understandable.
No one stays in your life forever.
Pulling you from your thoughts is the sound of clinking dishes. Helping mom, right.
"Hey need help with anything?"
"Yeah hun if you wouldn't mind pulling the leaf out from the garage, we'll need it for dinner on Wednesday."
"Why the leaf? I thought it was just us for Christmas"
"Oh gosh I didn't tell you did I? Your father and I have been doing a joint Christmas dinner with the neighbors, it's too quiet with all the kids gone so it's nice having a full house again."
"You.. you guy's never mentioned that. Mom, I would have come home more for Christmas if I knew you were lonely."
"Oh, sweetie!" your mom exclaims, "It's no problem! You are an adult with your own life and career sweetie we understand. It's actually been great! It's like a potluck and we switch off houses each year and we happened to be hosting this year."
"Well that sounds fun I guess"
Now you kinda feel like a jerk for leaving your parents all alone.
"It's a lot of fun. You forget how to live for yourself when you have kids, and after you leave us we as parents all feel lost. But I've found new hobbies and made new friends of which Linda from pilates and her husband are coming so you'll get to meet them."
"Well that's good I'm excited to meet them. I'm happy for you mom."
"Now go get the leaf and you can help me start prepping dessert."
You nod and make your way toward the garage.
After some digging around in the garage you finally found the damn leaf hiding behind a heavy box you can't lift.
And you think to yourself that this is a perfect excuse to go steal your boyfriend back from your father.
But as your walking back into the house you hear indistinct talking. Your mom. And someone else?
You can't make out who it is, but they sound eerily familiar?
As you make your way back inside, walking through the mudroom into the hallway you hear the voice more clearly.
That's not...
Rounding the corner you're sent into a tailspin.
Why is he here?
You're not even paying attention to the words your moms saying to you, you're too distracted by him.
You clear your throat awkwardly as you realize you've been silent for too long and their both now just staring at you.
"Sorry, Mom what?"
"Y/n, honey, I said did you find the leaf?"
"Oh right, sorry. Yeah I was coming in to get Michael because it's behind some heavy boxes I couldn't move on my own"
Stop staring at him.
Why are you staring at him like that?
"Well, what perfect timing, look who stopped by? I'm sure he won't mind helping now won't you, Will?"
"Of course not. It's lovely to see you y/n! It's been too long"
"Same, uh, to you. What, um are you doing here?"
You couldn't be more uncomfortable right now.
"I'm in town visiting my parents and your mom had asked for a few eggs so I'm just dropping them off."
"Greaaat. It's fine though I don't need your help, I was just gonna get my boyfriend to help. You can go home."
"Nonsense y/n, I'm sure he doesn't mind", your mom interjects.
With awkward silence that's only awkward to you, Will finally speaks.
"Right, well lovely speaking with you Mrs. Y/L/N, mum's looking forward to your pot roast on Wednesday."
"How sweet, tell her I look forward to her famous toffee pudding!"
"I'll make sure to tell her," he said before walking toward you.
"This Way" you lead.
"So love, how have you been?"
Will tries to fight the silence.
You don't hate him. You just dislike him.
"Been good Will."
Okay, maybe you do hate him.
Growing up you were two were close. And now you're not and no amount of pretending is going to make things normal.
"Boxes are there" you spit more bitterly than intended
"Right let's get these buggers moved shall we."
The truth is you did like him at one point. But that's long since passed, he's an ass. Conceited and only cares about himself.
You were good friends with his sisters, that's how you two met. But he's an ass and abandoned you.
"All set, do you want me to carry this in for you? It's quite heavy"
"No Will I got it."
"Are you sure?", Will tries to insist, "It's really not a bother"
"I said I got it."
"Alright... I do mean it, it was lovely seeing you again. Don't be such a stranger."
Psh. Me? He's the stranger.
Besides. You both are different people now. And you don't need him in your life.
Will holds his hand out for a handshake and you turn to grab the leaf with both hands instead.
Will retracts his hand taking the hint, "See you around love."
----
Even though you hadn't been home for long you cannot count down the days until you were back home in your own bed back to your normal life and routine.
It's definitely comforting to at least have Michael here by your side when you wake up.
Staying with your family has gone smoothly so far.
You couldn't have been happier that Michael and your family were getting along.
Making breakfast the day before for your mom and dad was certainly the cherry on top for them with Michael.
You were helping your mom clean the house and move furniture around to make room for all the tables.
Michael is even helping hang some decorations.
Everything was picture-perfect… until he showed up.
"Will! I'm so glad you could come help." Your mom all but cheered for him.
"Of course Mrs. Y/L/N, I'm always happy to help"
"We have some decorations that need to be hung and I cannot for the life of me find our ladder, but your nice and tall so I figured you should be able to reach them"
Will let off a soft chuckle.
A sweet sound you haven't heard in a while. No, you hate him remember?
"I will do my best," he said simply.
"Great Michaels in the dining room he'll show you where you put them"
Fuck.
Should you be nervous that your boyfriend and Will are in the same room? Any sane person would say no.
The thing is, Will has never liked a single one of your boyfriends growing up. Not one.
He always had something to say and always thought you deserved better no matter who you were dating.
Seeing them making small talk has you nervous he'll try to sabotage another relationship.
It's one of the reasons why you started to drift apart. There was no winning with him and after graduating, he just up and left.
"Alright, mom what's next?" You say in an attempt to clear your mind.
"Besides setting the tables and putting up a few more string lights I think we're good. Let's go check on the boys."
Godsend. Get Will out of here.
As you make your way toward the dining room you can't help but feel anxious.
What have they been talking about? Are they talking about you?
Was Will just being a dick again, trying to run Michael off.
"Wow, it looks good boys!" Your mom says looking around the room
"Yeah it looks really good guys," you say checking out all the hanging decorations.
"Thanks, love" Will responds.
Your boyfriend shoots you a look of discomfort at your seemly newfound nickname.
Will was a part of your past that you never got into with Michael. It never felt like something important that needed to be discussed.
Besides every celebrity has an asshole story about them from their past friendships.
and to be completely honest, you never thought you'd ever see him again. One big role and suddenly Will's too good to call you anymore.
What a dick.
It didn't help to see all those girls hanging on him like arm candy.
Deep down you couldn't blame the girls. He was incredibly attractive and his accent. God. It's like heaven.
But you knew the real Will. You wouldn't fall for this fake sweet person he suddenly is.
Pulling you from your thoughts, your mother remarks, how nice it is to have everyone together again.
"You should have seen how inseparable these two used to be Michael. We couldn't keep them apart!", your mother jokes lightly nudging both you and Will.
"You know we all used to think you'd get married someday, how silly is that?" Your mom further explained and laughed.
Earning a blush and a chuckle from Will.
Meanwhile, Michael couldn't look more uncomfortable. Clearing his throat he excuses himself.
Taking his queue you follow your boyfriend and as you're heading up the stairs you can faintly hear your mom ask Will,
"What? What did I say?"
…
You find Michael up in your old room, pacing which is never a good sign.
You make your way into the room and plop down on the bed, watching Michael angrily pace, you try to grab his hand to bring him close to you but he pulls away.
Upset he asks, "Were you just never going to tell me, y/n? Cause I think that's pretty shitty of you"
"Woah, tell you what? I have no idea what you're talking about. Calm down baby come sit, talk to me" you pat the empty spot on the bed next to you.
"Calm down?" Michael begins to raise his voice
"Hey", you say firmly interrupting him, "please don't shout with my parents downstairs"
"Y/n, I'm going to shout if I want to shout because I am angry! How could you not tell me your history with him?"
You don't even get a chance to respond as Michael interrupts,
"You really think I want to spend my Christmas with my girlfriend's family and her ex-boyfriend." if your parents didn't hear him shouting before they certainly did now.
"Oh my God no, we never dated! What on earth would give you that ide-" before you could finish your sentence you realized the implications of what your mother said. "That's not what my mom meant Michael"
You stand up and grab his arm trying to bring him closer to you but he pulls away, shoving your hand away.
"No", he shouts, "don't lie to me. I see the way he looks at you."
"Michael, baby please listen to me" you plead
"Damn it, y/n, no I'm leaving!" he says before opening your bedroom door and storming out slamming it behind him.
You had tried to catch your door from slamming but you were too late, it sent a violent shiver throughout your bedroom. And the whole house if you're being honest.
Whipping the door open as fast as you can to try and catch up, chasing him down the stairs desperately pleading with him to stay and talk with you.
But you're too late. He's out the door and starting the rental car, your rental car, and peeling away.
You just stand there in utter shock, you can feel the tears fighting to escape as you watch him drive off into the distance.
This isn't the first time you've fought with your boyfriend.
It's not unusual for him to work himself up over nothing, only to then scream at you for 20 minutes and then apologize.
It's not healthy and you know that. But when you aren't fighting he is a nice guy who makes you laugh and you love him.
But you don't want to walk back inside and face your parents knowing they heard your fight.
There's one place you know they won't look for you, and that's your old tree house.
The place you spent most of your time hiding from the world.
As you make your way up the ladder you think to yourself how perfect this plan is because you know It won't be long before the guests start to arrive. And then your parents will be too distracted with hosting to bother you about Michael storming off.
You can wait it out.
What you weren't expecting was a knock on the tree house door.
"Y/n, I know you're up here. Can you please open the hatch?"
Of course, he would come to find you.
"No, Will go away! Can't you read the sign? No boys allowed"
You can hear him laughing from beneath the floorboards.
"Fair, but darling, I am more of a man though, so can you please let me in?"
He's the last person you want to see right now, yet here you are undoing the latch to the door.
You shimmy back to your little corner to make room for Will and you can't help but giggle at him bumping his head as he enters.
"Oh, is my pain funny to you?" he presses his hand to his chest feigns his hurt.
You try your hardest to fight the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth.
"I mean you really should see yourself right now" now fully failing to hide your amusement
After some rustling around on Will's end, he was finally able to sit down despite looking so uncomfortable and out of place in your tiny childhood tree house.
"So…." Will breaks the silence
"Sooo…."
"Michael seems… interesting"
"Oh shut it, Will. You never have anything nice to say about anyone I've dated"
"Yeah, but that's because you always manage to date arseholes"
You huff, "I do not always date assholes, Will."
"What about Steven?" Will asks, raising his eyebrow
"Or that Chris guy… and Matt.. oh and that guy with Mohawk- you cut him off "okay okay I get your point. Alright? But you don't know what it's like."
"You have always been so critical of everyone I've ever introduced you to. It's not nice having your best friend tear apart every guy you bring around"
Will frowns. Knowing he's made you upset.
Why the fuck did you let him up here.
"I'm sorry, love. I wasn't trying to be mean on purpose I just-You mean so much to me, you deserve so much more than those losers"
"If I meant so much to you why did you leave me?"
The question you had asked yourself for years.
"Because Y/n, you deserve more."
Your eyes swell, desperate to keep the tears from spilling. You've been fighting these emotions for so long.
You are tired of fighting. Fighting yourself, fighting your feelings.
"Don't bullshit me Will, honest to God. I loved you, you were my best friend and the last person that I thought would abandon me."
"Y/n-" Will starts but stops his train of thought.
"I'm a massive wanker"
You're caught off guard by his choice of words, falling to suppress a giggle through your tears.
"Don't laugh, y/n I'm trying to be serious here"
"I'm a massive wanker- he begins again, "for not telling you how madly in love I was with you."
"What?"
"I was afraid it would ruin our friendship and then things got so busy with acting, always traveling and you didn't deserve that. You deserve someone who can be there for you always."
Will moves closer to you before continuing,
"But it's not only that, I wanted to tell you so many times, but the more I thought about it the more I thought about what people would say about me online I could only imagine what they would say about you, and I just couldn't put you through all that."
He pauses to take your hand into his for comfort.
"I'm sorry, I handled it poorly and shouldn't have left you the way I did."
"Will, I- I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything, it's okay I just want my best friend back. And I will understand if you say no"
"I-yeah yeah Will I think I would really like that."
You look up at him and see how wide he's beaming.
"Would you care to join me for dinner before it gets cold?"
"Yeah Will, I'd like that."
---
Later on, in the evening you texted Michael and told him to have his shit packed and out of the house before you returned later in the week.
You then spent the rest of that night, and a few more hanging out with Will. Catching each other up on everything and anything.
You felt nostalgic, you missed this. You missed him.
Despite everything that happened between you and Will it felt like a fresh start, you felt at peace with where you two were.
And who knows where this rekindled friendship will go.
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hey! i just came over from tiktok, could you possibly do a gally x reader where he tries to act tough around all of the guys but (y/n) starts teasing about how sweet he actually is and he has to try and defend himself but gets all flustered over it, but can’t get mad at (y/n) cause he’s got that fat crush on her? (fem pronouns possibly please?)
Not So Tough
Pairing: Gally x fem!reader
Description: Gally has a hard exterior, but secretly melts when y/n is around.
Warnings: smooching, glade slang, idk just a lot of fluff, gally being a bit of a jerk
Words: 651
Prompt: Grumpy x Sunshine Trope
A/N: It lowkey ends kinda abruptly but OH WELL HERE YA GO
“Gally, would you please stop yelling at the rest of the builders and actually start building?” Newt called from the gardens.
“No can do, I gotta make sure everyone stays in line, that’s why you put me in charge of the builders, remember?” Gally called back, yelping soon after when one of the newer gladers dropped a piece of wood on his head. “You shank! Look what you’ve done! Dropping klunk all over the place, you should be sent to the slammer!”
“Gally, is that really any way to talk to the new guy?” Y/n jogged up to Gally from the med-jack hut where she was just supervising Clint and Jeff. Y/n was somewhat of a floater when it came to jobs. When they were testing what jobs she was good at, she was nearly good at every single one. Well, except for the slicers. Poor Winston nearly scared the girl half to death when he first came out with a machete.
“I uh- Well he dripped- I mean dropped that shucking piece of wood on me an-” Gally stammered.
“Gally, c’mon give the guy a break, he’s only been here a week,” Y/n said with a soft smile.
“Look, I’m just trying to do my job, gotta make sure everything gets done, right?” Gally said, seeming to regain his composure.
“And it will get done, you can just be a little nicer about it through,” Y/n said, placing a hand on Gally’s arm and running her fingers down his bicep.
Gally blushed. Y/n was playing him like a fiddle and she knew damn well what she was doing.
“I’ll see you at supper?” Y/n said.
“You know you’re the only one that calls it that, right? It’s dinner,” Gally snorted.
“Oh shut it, you know you love me,” Y/n said before turning over her shoulder and walking away, not before giving Gally one last smile. Gally stood there for a moment, not sure what to do with himself.
“Oi, Gally, what were you saying about making sure things get done?” Newt called, snickering to Alby.
“Oh slim it,” Gally growled. “No- you can’t hammer that in, there’s not a screw to hold it together!” He turned his attention to the Greenie.
___
“Hey big guy, not interested in tackling anyone to the ground tonight?” Y/n’s voice came from above Gally.
“No, not tonight, gonna try to go to sleep early,” Gally said, getting up and trying his best to avoid y/n. But before he could leave, y/n grabbed his wrist.
“Wait- did today really bother you?” She asked, furrowing her brow.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gally broke away from her grip and tried to escape again, but she was too quick for him. She grabbed his arm again.
“You know what I’m talking about. I didn’t think it would bother you, I thought you would actually like it, y’know considering I was flirting with you.” Gally’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
“Oh my god,” Y/n laughed. “Wasn’t it obvious?”
“Kinda hard to pay attention to that when things need to get done,” Gally cleared his throat, trying his hardest to hide the smile that was forming on his face.
“Oh don’t act like you weren’t blushing the whole time you- oh my god you’re even blushing right now!” She laughed.
“Shh, no I’m not,” Gally smiled back at her, the blush returning to his cheeks.
“You are! Gally’s blushing! Gally’s blu-” Y/n called when she was cut off.
Gally’s lips crashed into hers as his hand moved to her cheeks. Y/n closed her eyes and sunk into the kiss, bringing her arms around his neck. When Gally pulled away first, y/n smiled.
“What was that for?” She breathed.
“To shut you up,” Gally smiled. He looked to her lips and back to her eyes. “And also because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”
#gally imagine#gally one shot#gally maze runner#gally fluff#tmr gally#gally x y/n#gally#gally x reader#mazerunner#will poulter#fanfic#fiction#romance#writing#wattpad#gally tmr x reader#gally tmr#tmr smut#gally smut#will poulter smut
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Rocket: could that douche actually create a perfect society?
Y/N: nah. An imperfect being can’t create perfection. It’s unobtainable
Adam: so a perfect being, like me, could?
Y/N: sorry Warlock. You’re a perfect specimen. There’s a difference.
Cosmo: did you just compliment and insult someone at the same time?
Rocket: that’s an art form im dying to learn! (Laughs)
#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel fluff#mcu#mcu imagine#mcu fandom#marvel incorrect quotes#incorrect marvel quotes#rocket and groot#rocket raccoon imagine#rocket racoon x reader#adam warlock#will poulter#guardians of the galaxy#guardians of the galaxy volume 3#gotg imagine#gotg vol 3#gotg#rocket gotg
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these men could collectively ruin my existence and i’d apologize for doing whatever it was that upset them 😔🫶🏾
#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#vinnie hacker x reader#vinnie hacker imagine#nathan doe#dylan o'brien#will poulter#timothee chalamet#cillian murphy
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Not Like Quill
PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader
WC: 2.5k (longer than I intended, oof!)
SUMMARY: after your half-brother and half-sister leave, you’re left to fill in Peter’s shoes on the Guardian team. Unfortunately, Rocket can only see the faults where you lack the qualities that his best friend has. Luckily, though, a certain golden boy is always there to cheer you up.
WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, fluff, angst if you squint.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: so this is my first official one shot AND first time writing for GOTG (hopefully I did a good job.) I saw GOTG3 in the theaters almost a week ago and WOW, was I surprised by Adam!! (I make it a point to not watch trailers to avoid spoilers.) I liked Will in The Dawn Treader but I haven’t seen any of his other movies since they’re not genres I usually watch, but I have been SLEEPING on this man!! I’m now obsessed with Gally (I’ve never even seen TMR but I’ve now read a ton of FFs) and, of course, Adam. So, here’s a one-shot :)
I know that Peter gave Rocket his Zune but in this scenario he gave it to you, his other half-sister. You do have powers but they’re not really mentioned here; if anyone is interested I can make a sequel/prequel.
Part 0 , Part 2
The repairs to Knowhere were going well— or at least as well as could be expected with leaders who bickered as much as the remaining Guardians. Peter and Mantis had left the planet a few weeks ago, leaving everyone quite sad at their departure. But, there were things to do so those that remained moved on as best they could in order help out. You, however, as Peter’s half-sister, had been hit harder by their departures than the others. Mantis and Peter were the only family you had, especially since the group had killed your father (not that he’d been a good one, of course.) Sure, the other Guardians had become like family to you over the years, but they weren’t blood— but this is also the only reason why you decided to stay instead of going off on your own like your siblings.
To make matters worse, the only physical reminder that you had of your brother was his Zune, which he’d left to you since you’d always stolen it anyway. Almost every day since his departure you could be found with the Zune clipped to your belt with at least one— and often both— earbuds plugged in to drown out the world. You busied yourself with helping the rest of the population repair their homes, enjoying the physical work as it tired you out too much to think about your missing family. When you weren’t working, you were training, which is how you (more officially) met one of the newest members of the Guardians, Adam. It hadn’t been the best first meeting, but that was a story for another time.
You were grateful to him for saving your brother so after he apologized for almost killing you, you forgave him pretty easily. Since you wanted to fill up your free time as much as possible, you offered to help train him because although he had powers, he’d barely been a match for the Guardians during the initial fight. You became close because of this and you found that you enjoyed his myriad of questions. You made sure to always be patient when answering him since you knew that the other Guardians were either too busy or would snap at him.
However, that was about the only good thing that had happened to you since the defeat of the High Evolutionary. The only time you really saw Rocket, Groot, Drax or Nebula was when you helped out around the headquarters or went on a mission, and even that wasn’t the same as it used to be. Rocket was a very different leader than Peter; he was, well, smarter, so that was good, but he had yet to acquire any sort of nurturing or encouraging attitude. When they trained as a team to get used to each other (as they had also added Kraglin and Viola to the group), Rocket would veer towards critical rather than critiquing.
“No, on your left, you idiot! Your other left!”
“You call that aim? Blurp could hit the target better than you!”
And, lastly, “that’s not how Quill would do it!”
Ouch. That one was always aimed at you, for anything Rocket could criticize you for. It didn’t have to just be training; sometimes he took it to ridiculous levels, either for the music you selected or the food you cooked. Anything you did, he compared you to your brother. And of course, you loved Peter; along with the other Guardians, he had saved you and Mantis from Ego and for that alone you would love him, but he had left you terribly big shoes to fill and you weren’t even the leader. You tried to hide how much Rocket’s words affected you— usually by keeping your Zune close at hand to drown him out, but they did get you down.
Even worse was his nickname for you. Although it had once been endearing, “little Quill” now felt like more of an insult— as if he knew you could never measure up to Peter. You never confronted him about this since you knew Rocket had a barbed tongue, but after being abandoned by your siblings, his words seemed to hit you harder than before. So, you kept your distance from him as best you could and tolerated it when you couldn’t.
On this particular day, you had decided to make chocolate chip cookies, which Peter had taught you to make on the first ‘Christmas’ that you’d been with the Guardians. You were really missing your brother so you plugged in your earbuds and started on the familiar recipe. In this instance, the kitchen that you were using was communal, so it was no surprise that someone else walked in on you as you baked. You didn’t notice at first, too lost in the music of Bohemian Rhapsody.
Adam had come into the kitchen after following the sweet scent that had caught his attention. He smiled a little at the sight of you standing at the counter, elbow-deep in. . . something. It was golden in color, although lighter than his skin, and flecked with black. He waved to get your attention but as usual, you were oblivious to your surroundings (and you were a fighter?) so he made his way over to you and tapped you on the shoulder.
Feeling the presence of another person, you turned around to see who it was— if it was anyone worth talking to— and when you saw that it was the (literal) golden boy, you sent him a smile and pulled one earbud out of your ear. “Hey, Adam.”
“Hi,” he replied you, still a little uncertain with less formal greetings. “What are you making? It smells really good.”
“Chocolate chip cookies,” you said. “Peter taught me how to make them. Do you want to try some?”
He looked at what was in the bowl curiously. “What does it taste like?”
“It’s sweet. If you liked the smell I’m sure you’d like the taste. Watch,” you instructed. Then you carefully picked up a small bit that had a chocolate chip in it before you at it. You closed your eyes and hummed at the delicious flavor.
Adam copied your action carefully, even going so far as to close his eyes and make the same sound— and then he repeated it more genuinely as he realized how good it was. You grinned at his reaction. “You like it, huh?” When he nodded, you added, “want to help? I’m almost at the fun part!”
“What’s that?”
“It’s where we make the cookies— this is just the batter,” you explained.
After you both washed your hands, you showed him how to form the batter into matching spheres and line them up on the baking tray. As you worked, you talked about the music you were listening to and even transferred your spare earbud to him so Adam could listen as well. Bohemian Rhapsody had become Starless by the band King Crimson. . . and of their better-known members, Adam Belew. You couldn’t help but find it amusing that Adam had the same name, and that one of the lines was “sundown dazzling day/gold through my eyes.”
As he finished forming one of the last cookies, Adam glanced up to see the hint of laughter in your expression. Although he didn’t know what was funny, he smiled back at you. For some reason that he didn’t understand, he was happy that you were happy; it was an emotion that you didn’t really seem to show that often, so the rare chance that he got to see it only made it more special. Your grin widened at you leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially: “now comes the fun part!”
He frowned with confusion. “I thought making the. . . cookies was the fun part,” he said slowly, trying out the new word.
“Sort of, but everyone knows the fun part is licking the bowl!” you exclaimed happily. “Like this.” You scraped some of the remaining batter together until it was big enough to eat before you popped it into your mouth. Together you made quick work of the remaining batter and then you put the bowl in the sink. You’d started the oven earlier, so it was ready for the tray.
After setting the timer, you made a face. “Now it’s time for the worst part: doing the dishes. Peter hated doing them so much that we usually just put them in the contamination chamber and chucked them out to space,” you explained with a giggle. “If anyone asked why we had to buy so many new dishes we just said that Peter was really clumsy.” You finished the story with a wistful look, remembering all the fun that you and your siblings had had before the Snap had ruined everything.
Adam wasn’t sure if doing the dishes was really that bad, but the happiness that had been present while making the cookies had slipped off your face, so he figured that it must be an arduous task. Wanting to spare you the discomfort, he offered: “I can do them, if you want. You did most of the work anyway.”
His suggestion pulled you back to the present and you shook your head. “You don’t have to. Since this is your first time having cookies you can just enjoy them. Next time you have to help,” you added playfully, covering up your sadness as you always did with humor— you learned that from your brother, after all.
The golden boy allowed a small smile at that, although he’d picked up on your habit. “I can wash and you can dry?”
You agreed, and soon the task was done. While you waited for the cookies to be finished you answered a few more of Adam’s questions. You found his curiosity refreshing after spending so much time with smart-ass, know-it-all teammates that wouldn’t know how to ask question if it slapped them in their face. (And yes, you did love your teammates— that’s why you could call them out on their stubbornness.)
The cookies were done about fifteen minutes later and you took them out to cool for another ten before you took one for yourself and one for Adam. You sat down next to him and bit into the warm dessert, closing your eyes again to enjoy it. As much as you liked the batter, the finished cookie was definitely better. Adam seemed to agree as he made the same sound of enjoyment from before, causing you to open your eyes and grin at him. “Good, huh?”
“Definitely,” he agreed, and he was finished with his cookie before you were done with yours.
You saw him eye the tray greedily, which caused you to laugh. “Go ahead, you can have another one.”
As he did so, the other members of the Guardians entered the room, apparently drawn by the same scent that Adam had smelled. Kraglin took his with a nod of thanks, stuffing one in his mouth as he left the room. Viola took one as curiously as Adam had, seeing as she’d never had a cookie either.
“You can take some to the other kids,” you told her— you’d made a double batch since they were pretty popular, so there was plenty. She thanked you as well and took some extra for her friends.
Then, it was Rocket’s turn. After the rest of his reactions to whatever you did, you found yourself holding your breath as you waited for his opinion. It only took a moment before he pronounced: “not bad, Little Quill.” You perked up at that, eyes wide with hope that you had finally done something right— something that Peter couldn’t do better than you. But Rocket wasn’t done: “not like Quill’s, though.”
You slumped in your chair as he took a few extra, oblivious to the effect his words had on you— but Adam noticed. “I think hers are better than Peter’s,” he spoke up quietly.
“Sure, blondie. You ain’t never tried Quill’s though, so ya don’t have a comparison.”
“I don’t need to,” he insisted, glancing over at you. “I know they’re better.”
Rocket scoffed with disbelief but didn’t bother arguing the point (he knew he was right, anyway), and left the room without so much as a thank you. Adam glanced over at your defeated posture; you’d been so confident and happy moments before the other Guardians had come in, but now you seemed to shrink into yourself, as if Rocket’s careless words had physically hurt you. Normally your recovery time after such an incident would be fast so no one else could pick up on your feelings, but this was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back— if you couldn’t do cookies right, what hope did you have for anything else?
You suddenly felt a warm hand settle on top yours, which had been resting on the counter. You looked up sharply, surprised by the touch— you hadn’t been so much as hugged since Peter and Mantis had left. Adam’s expression was sympathetic, but there was a hint of anger in his golden eyes. “You’re not like Quill,” he said.
Unfortunately, you mistook his words after being so used to Rocket’s insults and looked away. You’d expected this sort of thing from him, not from Adam, and the blow hit you harder than anything Rocket had ever said. “I know,” you snapped, taking your hand away from his. “Thanks for the reminder.”
He gave you a confused look since he wasn’t sure what chord he’d struck to cause your reaction. It dawned on him quickly how his words could have been interpreted and he gently took your hand again as he repeated more firmly: “you’re not like Quill. You’re. . . there isn’t anything to compare. You’re not your brother— Rocket shouldn’t expect the same things from you that he did for Peter.” He hesitated for only moment before he added, “I can. . . talk to him, if you want.”
As he’d spoken, you realized you’d made a mistake and your initial thoughts had been right: Adam wouldn’t use your brother against you. You felt guilty for jumping to conclusions and gave him an apologetic look. Then, his words really sank in; a statement about how special your uniqueness was from someone whose society was literally carbon copies made your face heat up at the impact of his sentiment. You found that you couldn’t look him in the eyes and lowered your gaze to your still-connected hands. “I— thank you,” you said softly. “I just wish Rocket would see that. You don’t have to talk to him— I should be able to do that myself; I’ve been his teammate for longer, after all. But. . . I really appreciate it.”
His expression softened as he squeezed your hand, which inexplicably made your stomach roll nauseously (but in a good way, like when Peter would do loop-the-loops with Milano’s pod.) “Anytime, Little Quill.”
And just like that, “little Quill” went right back to being an endearing nickname.
#adam warlock#adam warlock x reader#adam warlock x y/n#adam warlock x you#will poulter x reader#will poulter#marvel x reader#will poulter imagine#gotg imagine#gotg v3#guardians of the galaxy#adam warlock imagine#mcu fic#mcu x reader#adam warlock fluff#adam warlock fanfiction
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Just imagine being frnds with Will and kinda rejecting him earlier (Garry days) and meeting him yrs later now. Also, being in ur own bubble all these yrs so that hit of puberty on him throws u off guard...
-🌺
wait what are garry days...?
but okay i totally get it. you guys were kids, and very good friends, and things are bound to get awkward if you guys hook up, so you didn't! a very mature decision yay! it stung a little, but then as you grow up, you grow apart and you don't see each other anymore, which helps. although it lowkey hurts at the same time :/
but then one day, you're queueing up behind this absolute jacked beast at the coffee shop and you didn't recognize him until you hear him make his order to the cashier at the counter. "will?" he turns around. "oh my god, yn! hi!" and the two of you scramble awkwardly for a hug. the cashier just stood there like "...anything else?" and will snaps out of it "right sorry, can i get your coffee too, love?" and you end up sitting by the lake, sipping matcha latte as you catch up 😍😍
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Hugs, Massages
Summary: It's been a terrible day. But you know who can comfort you best? Your boyfriend, Will.
Genre: fluff
pairing: Will Poulter x female reader
Warning: language (cursing), suggestive
It was a rough day.
Work was a bitch -- when is it ever not -- but today took a toll on you. It was much harder than other days, and you just want to crawl in a hole and cry.
Will knew it was a bad day just from the way you closed the door. Quiet, slow, unannounced. Usually you'd go in the bedroom to find him, but this time you immediately went to shower.
Closing his book, Will picked up the bag and coat you left on the kitchen counter and put it where it belonged before joining you in the shower.
He was careful, not wanting to interrupt, he just wanted to comfort you.
He took his shorts off before getting behind you, kissing your shoulder. "Hi," he said softly. "want some alone time?"
You shook your head, wrapping his arms around you.
He kissed your neck before lathering his hands with your favorite soap, massaging your shoulders, your back, your arms..
"Nothing I ever do is good enough for them."
Will knew you meant your bosses.
"I work my ass off for this project.. put down ideas, developed them, worked with other people... only for them to shut it down, put their ideas and want me to do those instead." You chuckled bitterly. "So much for a free, creative space."
Will helped you rinse your hair, listening to all your complaints while he's at it. After showering, he then went to make some tea while you dried your hair.
He knew during nights like this, you didn't want to talk much. You just wanted him there with you, holding you, and that'll let you know everything will be alright.
The mugs were on your bedside table, next to it was Will's book and your favorite eucalyptus candle. He really knew how to help you relax.
A smile slowly crept up to your lips and you felt a pair of arms embrace you from behind.
"There's that beautiful smile."
"Hi," you whispered.
"Hi," he whispered back, kissing you gently. "Want me to read to you?"
You both settled on the bed. You rested your head on shoulder, holding your hot tea, while Will took his book. He was reading Albert Camus's L'Étranger, a philosophical fiction about life, existence, one of the classics, you'd say.
A few sentences in, Will stopped reading the book. "Probably not the best book for this."
He put the book down and turned to cuddle. You left your tea on your bedside table and succumbed to his warm hug.
"You're such a perfect boyfriend." You complimented.
His hand rubbed circles on your back. "I literally just burnt dinner last night."
You chuckled, "That was a little funny."
Will kissed the top of your head, pulling you closer.
"Your bosses are stupid for not recognizing your dedication and talent." He continued, "I'm sorry they're not treating you the way you deserve to be, but I'm here for you. Every step of the way."
"Thank you." You kissed him. "I love you."
"I love you too," He smiled, "Now lay back, and let me give you a massage."
"Ooh," you smirked, "what kind of massage?"
Will smiled slyly, kissing your knees and thighs before sending a wink your way. "Any kind you want."
#will poulter#romance#female reader#fluff#suggestive#adam warlock#gotg fanfiction#gotg 3 imagine#gotg vol 3#gotg v3#guardians of the galaxy vol 3#guardians of the galaxy 3#gotg#gaurdians of the galaxy#will poulter imagine#will poulter fanfic#will poulter x reader#will poulter x female reader#dopesick
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it's raining | will poulter x reader
Masterlist
summary: a cutesy little drabble about will picking you up while it's raining
wc: 852
a/n: these are so much fun to write...do you guys like these little drabbles about will being a hopeless romantic?
\𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨’𝗗 left for your meeting earlier, you'd feel so excited to feel the sun shining on your face that you'd slipped your cute leather flats onto your feet, glad they were black and matched your outfit. With a blazer thrown over a cute blouse tucked into a pencil skirt, you were the picture of chic professionalism, perfect for the meeting that you were presenting at. Your work at a talent agency right outside Hollywood was not only enough to pay the bills and then some, it also gave you the chance to help build up young actors. The more representation your talent agency got, the less bogus talent agencies would thrive. That's why you worked so hard in your marketing job: you wanted to get the talent agency's name out there.
Your car was currently in the shop getting a new door after some idiot had t-boned you and completely crushed the passenger side back door the week before. You were fine; just shaken, but your car was a different story, so now your boyfriend, Will, was acting as your chauffeur. You'd tried to protest and say it was too much work for him, but he was in town anyway for several award ceremonies, so you let him drive you around. It had only been in the last year that he'd learned how to drive; you'd taught him yourself, but he was surprisingly good at it for being so new to it.
Though, maybe he was just extra careful when you were in the car. Come to think of it, he did always refer to you as ‘precious cargo.’
Your presentation had gone smoothly, your words flowing like honey as you successfully pronounced every word, even the ones you'd had to review a million times the night before. Will had stayed up extra late to help you prepare even though he had to be functional today, and it warmed your heart to think of his kindness. He was such a thoughtful man, and sometimes, you wondered how you'd gotten so lucky.
The media wondered that, too, but the first time a reporter had dared to camp out on your lawn and ambush you with that question when you left your house, Will had confronted the man—first with words, then with his fist. He'd let it act as a warning to anyone who tried to interrupt your personal life, and you were grateful. Thankfully, your own insecurity had died down once you got used to the fact that you were dating a celebrity. No one was ever good enough for one of them in the media's eyes. Upon remembering that, you found that you no longer cared what they had to say.
After a long day at work that felt twice as tiring because of your presentation earlier, you watched the clock turn to 5:00, a groan of relief worming its way out of your throat. Finally. It was time to go home and eat dinner and then crash onto your bed and sleep for fifteen years. You almost forgot that Will was picking you up, jumping in surprise when you heard a throat being cleared.
“Love?” the British man chuckled with a bemused smirk. Your face morphed from startled confusion to happiness as you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him lift your feet several inches off the ground as you nuzzled into his neck.
“Baby,” you hummed in tired satisfaction, resting your forehead against his chest playfully as he rubbed your arms soothingly. You soaked in the sensation, loosely wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him closer to you.
“Don't you want to go home?” Will laughed, using your shoulders as leverage to push you away from his body a few feet, but only so he could look into your eyes.
“Yeah, but I'm tired,” you grumbled.
“An even better reason to head home, then,” Will grinned. You nodded, too exhausted to argue as you packed up everything you would need that evening before shutting off your office light.
When you reached the clear front door, you let out a noise of dismay as you took in the rain hurtling from the gray sky above, water splashing in the parking lot.
“What's wrong?” your boyfriend asked, worried.
“It's raining,” you whined. “Just another way to ruin my day.”
“Why does rain ruin your day?” Will inquired, genuinely curious. I sighed as if he was supposed to know, my annoyance getting the best of me.
“Because these shoes are leather. The shoes will be ruined.” Will just chuckled, patting your head. “What?” you eyed him suspiciously.
“You think I'd let your shoes get ruined?” he asked, pretending to be offended. “I would never allow such a tragic event to occur.” Before you could ask what he was going to do about it, Will had swept you off your feet in a bridal carry, your squeal of surprise making the British man smile.
“Don't worry, Cinderella,” Will murmured as he collected your things before sprinting across the parking lot to his car. “Your shoes will be just fine.”
the end
#will poulter#will poulter fic#will poulter fluff#will poulter headcanon#will poulter sfw#will poulter drabble#will poulter x reader#fanfiction#fluff#one shot
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Drowned In Affection (gally)
Summary: looking for a way to get into WCKD you come across a familiar face
Warnings: FLUFF, language, violence (i think that’s it)
Word count: 0.8k
You and Thomas were falling behind the rest of the group. Running away from dust clouds and gun shots from the giant cannons at the top of WCKD’s walls.
Suddenly Thomas had disappeared but before you could run off somewhere else a hand grabbed you and pulled you into the corridor.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” Thomas said gesturing for you to run in front of him to eliminate risk.
You ran in front of him ducking under the clothes lines and broken down walls until you reached the end of the corridor to see your group being shoved into vans.
You were grabbed soon after Thomas by a tall man.
“No! No!” You screamed. But he just threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.
He placed you down in the back of the truck and climbed in behind you. You were the only one from your group in the vehicle and the men in the masks were not making this any easier for you.
The truck stopped abruptly sending you across the truck. One of the men let out a gasp.
“Y/n you need to be careful.” You backed up against the doors. One, how did he know your name? And two what was going on.
“Who the hell are you? How do you know my name?” You backed up again until your back was touching the doors. Until the doors opened and your back made a smack noise on the ground knocking the wind out of you.
“Oh shit.” The man who said your name uttered. “I told you to be careful.” He reached for your hand. But instead you pulled away and backed up.
You were taken out of your trance when Jorge burst through the back of one of the vans jumping on one of the men punching him repeatedly in the face.
“Where the hell is she? Where is she?” He yelled.
“I’m right here. I’m right here.” Brenda stopped him.
They hugged when one of the men interrupted. “Calm down, we're all on the same side.”
“All on the same side?” Thomas scoffed. “Who the hell are you?” He questioned.
There was a pause before the man removed his mask revealing a beautiful face. Gally.
“Hey greenie.” He said simply dropping his mask when Thomas punched and tackled him to the floor similarly to how Gally did to his victims back in the maze.
“Woah Tommy stop!” Newt ran over. “He saved us.”
“He killed Chuck.” Thomas gritted out his fist still cocked in the air.
“Yeah but I also remember he was stung and half out of his mind.” Newt added.
Thomas slowly got off of him and Gally stood up leaving you and Gally standing face to face.
“Gally?” You questioned making sure he was in fact real. “Is it really you?”
“Yes sweetheart.” He opened his arms. You ran over to him jumping in his arms wrapping your arms around his neck, his caressing you lower back.
“But how?” You murmured into his neck.
Newt must’ve heard you because he had read your mind. “Yeah we watched you die.” Gally slowly let you down.
“No you left me to die.” Gally confronted Newt. “And if we hadn’t found you when we did you’d be dead too. What are you doing here anyway?” He questioned as you clung to his arm.
“Minho.” Newt stated simply. “WCKDS got him.”
“Well I can help with that.”
~
After your short talk with Lawrence you came to the conclusion that two people would get into the city with Gally which was unfortunately not you.
“Gally please be careful I can’t lose you again.” You pleaded tears threatening to fall.
“I promise. I love you so much.” He hugged you.
“I love you too baby.” You replied, allowing him to climb down the ladder leading the boys into the sewer.
After a while you started getting worried. That was until the sewer drain opened with a pop and the three that went in came back out.
When Gally stood back up you exchanged another hug and kiss before going off to a real bed for the first time in a long time.
“This is my room.” He led you to a single bed room, bed made and room tidy.
“Is this where you’ve been the whole time?” You questioned.
“Pretty much. They fixed me up and I've been here ever since. Works out.”
“I missed you.” You hugged him again.
“Trust me, me too. Don’t tell anyone but I cuddle with my pillow every night pretending it’s you.” He whispered the last part and let out a laugh.
You laughed too. “Well tonight I'm real.” You got into the bed. “And I’ve been losing sleep without you.” You smiled waiting for him to climb into the bed.
You both fell asleep in each other's arms and practically drowned each other in affection. But you were fine with drowning as long as it was with Gally.
#gally maze runner#gally#gally imagine#gally one shot#gally fluff#gally x y/n#tmr gally#gally x reader#mazerunner#will poulter
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Boiling Point | Chef Luca (Prologue)
(working) SUMMARY: A well- known food critic is retiring. Apart of this condition is that you continue writing on his behalf as if he hadn’t. To show you the ropes, he implores Luca to teach you what it takes to enter the culinary world.
There he was. His pristine white jacket contrasted perfectly against the warm ambiance of the evening. The distance was covered within a few long strides and once at the table, his charmed smile made you nauseous. He played his part better than you had that night
PAIRING: Chef!Luca x f!reader (food journalist/critic)
WORD COUNT: 1.4K
WARNINGS: smoking, drinking, canon-typical things, future enemies to lovers sort of, mutual pining, inspiration from Kitchen Confidential and the movie Boiling Point, etc.
A/N: Just a little sneak peek/intro to this request. Might do a short series (three/four parts)...stay tuned. It’s a little choppy at the moment, so I hope it makes sense. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged. Comments are always appreciated! Enjoy.
Deep breaths helped.
The nicotine’s warmth sparked excitement in your veins. It made a tedious night seem just bearable with each inhale. You eyed the falling ash as if it were tea leaves promising your near future. Yet, when your eyes surveyed the crowd within the restaurant, it cemented the dull company you’d join.
Excusing yourself was easy. Slipping away wasn’t the issue; it was expected as the call for a cigarette completed your image. The cliché of it made your mouth pucker with your final drag.
“There you are...” A hand settled on your shoulder. Ryan. “They’re ordering another bottle as we speak.” Lighting her own cigarette, she cursed. “We better fucking land this deal—I’m about to max out the company card.”
Flicking your roach under the point of your heel, you scoffed, “Please, if I have to hear that man say heavenly one more time, I’ll—
“You’ll smile.” She reminded you. It was an instruction, really. “Nod your head, agree with anything—Everything.”
“He said supposebly.” You tutted. “I can’t take him seriously.”
“He’s ancient. Cut him some slack!” She laughed. Charm came second nature to Ryan; you weren’t convinced she even knew its effect on people. “He’s sweet on you.”
“Right…” You tried to make out the stars, but the light pollution fought against you. “So, what? I marry him for the life insurance?”
“Let’s just make it through dessert,” Ryan spoke definitively, always cutting through. Yet, room always remained to entertain you. “Then we can talk wedding plans.”
The man that waited for you was Avery Sinclair—world-renowned something. You had listened, but the information had already left you. Those around you, though, knew who sat across from you well. They were almost as good as you hiding their discomfort. Eyes were always on him, knowing his thoughts before he could form them. New forks were laid after the slightest touch, napkin splayed on his lap before he could lift it himself, and every meal came with the chef that made it.
He was respected.
Yet, all you saw was his brittle and thin mustache, sitting upon his lip like forgotten food. The comb-over was just as wirey and pulled kindness to his cheeks. They flushed now as he flirted with another glass of wine.
“There you are!” He bubbled. With a wave of his hand, your diligent waitress returned with the Italian bottle. “I ordered the oak-aged white. It has a buttery note that is just heavenly with the gelée.”
You smiled.
“I cannot believe our night is coming to an end.” Ryan charmed. She held her nose to the glass, listening intently as Mr. Sinclair explained each technique to her. The slurping was a bit much.
“My dear, this is just a start.” The deal was confirmed with those words alone. A part of you wished the promise had a false bottom. “We can draft up something agreeable, I’m sure?”
He looked at you. You had that feeling like you’d forgotten to walk. Each step felt forced and off. You played off your misstep cleverly, your glass raising to the center, “I look forward to working together.”
Ryan was impressed, pride swelling in her chest. She and you were an unmistakable duo. Angel and devil. Thelma and Louise. Introvert and extrovert. Fill in any this and that, and there you two were. Most importantly, she was the publicist, and you were the writer.
“Under one condition…” Mr. Sinclair smiled, far too tickled by your toast. He leaned in, elbows brushing the circular table. “Do you know why I chose this place tonight?”
You hadn’t expected the question. Your answer came out blunt. “Favoritism.”
“You’re sharp.” He smiled broadly, wagging his manicured finger at you. “Exactly that. Look around you…”
You took a genuine moment. The perception of fine dining was all theatrics. It was a large show that ran every night of the week. Even those who dined were an unassuming audience. Those swiveling doors may as well be the curtain line to backstage. The kitchen, the dressing room. The dripping alleyway, the green room.
You were all too aware of the communication chain. The insults were coded frustrations that later into the service would be water under the bridge. There was a reason for everyone being here just as you were.
“We’re all cut from the same cloth. You, me, dear Ryan.” Mr. Sinclair smiled at her. “We all express our passions differently, but we love just the same.”
He felt content. His body relaxed with his decision to hire you. Sinclair could see how you hadn’t quite trusted yourself with the responsibility that he was putting on your shoulders. But he was confident you’d grow into it perfectly.
“I hope you understand the reasons for my poetics—” The rumors and gossip about him failed to do his sincerity justice. “—as I’m trusting you with my legacy.”
“Of course.” You gave another smile; this time, it felt real.
“Excuse my sentimentality!” Mr. Sinclair clasped his hands together in a soft clap. You could almost see tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “With that out of the way, dessert? The pastry chef here is—” His favoritism came into play. “—is something special.”
You could picture the chef now, cursing at the interruption. Hopefully, complaining about the big wig seated at table seven wasn’t worth his time. You waited for the rehearsed, polite decline.
Apologies, however, our chef is tied up between aeration.
But there he was, Chef Luca. His pristine white jacket contrasted perfectly against the warm ambiance of the evening. The distance was covered within a few long strides, and once at the table, his charmed smile made you nauseous. He played his part better than you had that night.
His features were tight, unwavering as the compliments poured. Your lips twitched down as you took him in. With his hands behind his back, his chest pulled broadly, but you could still make out the littered tattoos on his forearms. Typical.
Even with his eyes on you, you hadn’t shied from your judgment. You only stopped when you heard your name.
“Isn’t that right?” Ryan prompted you again, defined features expressing her sternness. Focus. “You always talk about how much you love to bake.”
You don’t.
“Sure.” You nodded.
“A match made in heaven, then!” Mr. Sinclair exclaimed. “You must get to know Luca; he has the most interesting story!”
In your short assessment, you already disparaged his comment. To you, Luca was, like you, a walking cliché.
“I don’t doubt that…” Your sarcasm was palpable. Luca’s stoicism broke with a smirk of confusion. “Let me guess... You were a troublemaker?” Your tone was teasing but bordered something wicked. “Cooking put you straight, and you owe your life to grease and adrenaline.”
“Forgot to mention that I’m a hard-partying criminal.” Luca didn’t waste a beat. Impressive.
“And when did the anger issues start?” You hummed. You played at every stereotype you knew. “Before or after your—
“I think what she means to say—” Ryan cut in seamlessly. She came prepared for your shenanigans. “—is that she admires the journey you’ve taken to get here.”
Luckily, Mr. Sinclair was far too enamored with the preciseness of the dessert to interpret the sudden banter.
“Of course.” Luca looked at you. Then as you had only moments ago, he pulled a practiced expression to address his loyal customer. “Mr. Sinclair, as always, it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“Unfortunately, I must savor tonight.” He spoke. “My home on the Amalfi coast has been quite lonely.” Sinclair let out a regretful sigh. “I trust you to keep this between us, yes?”
Luca nodded. “Of course.”
“You will be a very lucky man, son.” Sinclair further divulged the secrets behind his retirement. “I hope you heed my advice and get to know this young lady.”
All eyes were on you.
“She will continue to write for me. Use my name.” He explained your purpose. You weren’t ready to hear it aloud. “So treat her kindly, or you will have to answer to me.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Luca almost protested. It seemed elaborate to allow someone so young—you— to take his place.
“Be open. Present.” Sinclair answered. He wasn’t a man of riddles, but you noticed that the more he spoke, the harder to understand. “You were once new. You had to figure it out on your own. Maybe you can help her, show her your world. Our world.”
#q#chef luca#luca#chef luca angst#chef!luca x reader#chef!luca x f!reader#chef luca fluff#chef!luca#pastry chef luca#the bear fx#the bear luca#luca the bear#will poulter#will poulter x reader
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In Whatever Way [Adam Warlock x GN!Reader]
Plot Summary: When he unknowingly tests your patience, you snap at Adam and say something you immediately regret.
Word Count: 5,1k
Warnings: Guardians 3 spoilers, talk about canon typical violence, cursing, slight injury & mention of blood, bit of angst, hurt & comfort, idiots in love, author being a sucker for the ‘oh. oh.’ moment of realization trope
A/N: Kind of a follow up to this one, but can absolutely be read as a stand alone
I have exactly one complaint and that’s Adam not having Will’s freckles (for obvious bodypaint reasons), so I went ahead and fixed that 💁
If someone had told you a year ago that a Sovereign would become your favorite person in the galaxy, you would’ve laughed in their face and then put a bullet in between their eyes for good measure. But life’s got a twisted sense of humor sometimes.
That first night after the defeat of the High Evolutionary, it’d been way too messy and hectic to find Adam a place of his own, so you’d dropped him off at your tiny apartment, very specifically told him to stay put and to not touch anything, and then headed out again in search of food and some clothes. You’d found those, but alongside them, you’d also found the furry F’Saki Adam had basically adopted. He’d looked about as lost as his owner, so you’d tucked the little guy under your arm and had taken him with you. Arriving back at your home, you’d discovered Adam curled up on your bed, fast asleep. The F’Saki had immediately scurried out from your grasp, made himself comfortable at Adam’s legs and had started snoring almost right after. You’d stood in the middle of your room, still in your dirty, torn uniform and bone tired, a young Sovereign and his pet passed out on your bed and had actually stopped to wonder how on earth your life had gotten to that point.
Not seeing a reason for staying any longer, you’d decided you might as well go out and get blissfully blackout drunk with your friends. Leaving a note with the change of clothes and food, you’d turned towards the entrance to find Nebula standing in your doorway. She’d scanned the situation she’d walked in on very carefully and then had simply raised slender, judgmental brows at you. You’d shooed her out, gently closing the door behind you, and had reminded her that ‘Adopting strays that’ve tried to kill us is kinda our thing; didn’t think I’d need to tell you of all people.’
Ever since that night, Adam had been virtually glued to your side. It’d been a bit strange and uncomfortable at first; you weren’t used to always having company, much less that of a Sovereign. There’d most definitely been an adjustment period with quite a few mishaps, one of which had ended with him in the med-bay with a bloody nose after he’d scared the ever living daylights out of you while you’d been testing the upgrades Rocket had made to your gauntlets - you’d apologized profusely for the rest of that day. Over time though, it had become apparent that he meant you no harm, nor did he have any ill will, he simply wished to repay the kindness you’d shown him when he’d felt he had no one looking out for him anymore.
And despite the fact that his golden skin and hair, his engineered-to-be-perfect face and body and his manner of speaking reminded you of his heritage everyday, you’d found it increasingly easy to ignore the fact that he was part of the species responsible for so much pain in your life. Of course, it wouldn’t be fair to hold him accountable for actions committed by his people long before he was even born. But it wasn’t just that, Adam was simply… different from the rest of the Sovereign. He might’ve been created to be perfect, but he was far from it: He was only just understanding his own limits, landing him in situations that had him in over his head more often than not. He could be arrogant and quick to anger over the smallest details. He only liked learning things if they came to him easy, but grumpily and quickly dropped the ones that didn’t. But there was always an underlying innocent curiosity and kindness in his actions; in the way he’d so effortlessly bonded with the rescued animals he was now taking care of. In the way he always immediately offered assistance, no matter how menial the task. In the way he’d taken such an interest in any and all earth things, simply because they held special meaning to you. In the few months since he’d come into your life, he’d captivated you so completely, had gotten you to care for him so deeply and truly, it even shocked yourself at times still. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
There is however still one topic of conversation that never seems to get easier and that’s his late mother, Ayesha. High priestess and figurehead of the crusade against your kind; all because of shapeshifting abilities you never even asked for. You’re very well aware of the fact that, before he became a part of the Guardians, she was the only family Adam had. That he’d cared for her very much, he still does, it’s obvious in the way he talks about her. And usually you let him talk, for his sake; to let him grieve by sharing stories about the loved one he lost. But today’s been exhausting, to say the least. You’ve been up since the crack of dawn and nothing seems to work out the way it’s supposed to. At the moment, you’re down somewhere in the bowels of Knowhere, courtesy of a broken filtration system. And since your resident genius raccoon mechanic is off world with Groot and you aren’t half bad with machines, the honor of trying to fix it had gone to you. You’d been down there for hours now, though, and aren’t making any real progress. Adam had joined you a little while back, and while you usually welcome his company, he’s picked a particularly bad day to select his mother as a topic of conversation. Your nerves are frayed, your patience running thin, but you hold your tongue, choosing to only answer in occasional hums of acknowledgement to confirm that you’re listening. That works out just fine right up until the moment he says “You remind of her, actually.”
The wrench you’re currently using almost slips from your sweaty palms as you bristle and hiss “Don’t ever say that again.” His answer is immediate and while you’re not looking at him, you can hear the genuine confusion in his voice. “Why not? It’s the truth.” The more rational part of you knows he means it as a compliment - but that part seems to have taken the day off. You swallow the rising bile in your throat before you reply with “I am nothing like that vile woman. Don’t compare me to her again, do you understand?” You’ve quite obviously hit a nerve, as you hear him rise from his seated position on some debris and when he speaks again the confusion in his voice has given way to anger. “My mother was not vile, take that back!”
You mumble “Maybe not to you…” more to yourself than anything else as you busy yourself with the repairs, absolutely not in the mood for this conversation, but he hears anyways. “I don’t care what you might think of her; she loved me!” A bark of laughter escapes you before you can stop it, bitter and cruel. “Please, maybe she loved what you were supposed to be; the ultimate weapon, the next step in their precious perfect evolution, but you failed that spectacularly. And even that’s pushing it!” The bolt you’ve been trying to loosen seems to have gotten stuck even worse as you aggressively throw your whole weight down on the wrench’s handle, any and all social courtesies you’ve kept up around Adam in regards to this particular topic going right out the window. “But don’t take that personally; Sovereign just aren’t capable of love, it’s as simple as - FUCK!!” The bolt finally gives way, sending you face first into one of the pipes of the machinery. Pulling back with a pained hiss, you bring a hand to your throbbing forehead and let out a few more curses when it comes away bloody.
Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Two deep, slow breaths it takes for you to calm down. It takes two more for realization to hit and the regret that comes with it threatens to choke you on the spot. Adam’s gone deathly quiet and you’d honestly prefer if he lost his temper with you; that you could handle at least. You’re terrified of what you’ll find when you turn around, so you do so slowly and immediately wish you hadn’t at all.
Adam’s an awful liar; he wears his heart on his sleeve and his emotions always plain on his face for everyone to read. And right now? Even on that first night, when he’d been injured, scared and all alone, you don’t think he’d looked so completely and utterly heartbroken. His name has barely left your lips in a desperate plea when he turns and takes off, the golden glow of his powers vanishing around a corner and completely out of sight not a second later. There’s no point in going after him right now, you know that, he’s stubborn, especially when he’s upset - not that that helps you feel better about yourself in any capacity; you well and truly want to throw yourself out of the nearest airlock. With a heavy sigh, you pick up the discarded wrench from the floor, deciding to give the young Sovereign some space and quickly, haphazardly finish with your work instead.
By the time you leave the med-bay, a bandaid now covering the wound on your forehead, it’s been a good hour or two, so you make your way to Adam’s apartment, hesitantly knocking on the door. When there’s no answer, you peek through one of the small windows, but the room is empty except for Blurp curled up on the bed, snoring contently. You check the cantina next, then the complex where the animals had been set up. You check in with Kraglin and Cosmo, Drax and Phyla, and basically any residents of Knowhere that you come across - no one has seen the golden man since he went off to help you. Your search eventually brings you to the spaceport, where you find the Bowie freshly docked, Groot carrying crates down the loading ramp, Rocket on his shoulders. Considering you were running out of places to check that were actually on Knowhere and Adam didn’t need oxygen like the rest of you, you figure you might as well ask if they’d seen him somewhere in the general vicinity of the giant head while coming back.
“Rocket, have you seen Adam?” the question’s out of your mouth before you’ve even properly reached them and your furry friend doesn’t bother to look up from the data pad he’s studying as he scoffs “Nice to see you, too, (y/n). Yeah, me and Groot are fine, mission went great, thanks for asking; always touching to come home to such a warm welcome.” Mumbling out an apology you only half mean, you cross your arms over your chest and look at him expectantly. When he realizes you’re not gonna go away, he hooks the pad to his belt with a groan and looks at you, one elbow propped up against Groot’s head. “How the flarg would I know? Goldie’s attached to your hip, not mine.” You don’t wanna have to get into details right now, so you settle for “Usually, sure. But I messed up, he ran off and now I can’t find him.” Rocket snorts, clearly not buying it. “The guy looks at you like you hung the friggin’ stars in the sky, what could you of all people have possibly done to piss him off that bad?” Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you avoid eye contact with him and busy yourself with a loose thread on your shirt instead. Details it is after all. “I… might’ve insulted his mother and told him I don’t believe Sovereign are capable of love.” The quiet lasts for all of half a second before Rocket starts cackling so hard, he goes tumbling off of Groot’s shoulders and ends up on the ground; clutching his stomach he’s almost howling in laughter and it makes heat shoot up to your face in both embarrassment and anger as you stomp your foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “Rocket this isn’t funny!!”
The raccoon struggles to his feet, one paw still on his knee as the other wipes at his eyes. “You’re right; it’s not. It’s hysterical! I mean… if that’s how you talk to a guy you’re actually into, I’d hate to see how you treat the ones you don’t like.” Brows furrowing in bewilderment, the complete change of topic makes you fumble for a moment as you ask “What… what the hell is that supposed to mean?” All traces of amusement vanish from Rocket’s face, jaw going slack as he stares at you and realizes you’re serious. He lets out a low whistle before he states “Wow. And here I thought the golden boy was clueless. At least he’s got some excuse, he ain’t been around the galaxy for all that long, but you? You can’t be for real.” You’re very quickly growing very tired of this conversation, so with a huff, you throw your hands up in exasperation. “Rocket, are you gonna stand here and give me riddles for the rest of the day or are you gonna help me?” Said help comes from the tree that’s been busy unloading the ship up until now. “I am Groot.” Your head snaps towards your teammate at the insinuation. “What tracker?” Now it’s Rocket’s turn to look embarrassed, a disappointed sigh and a long, drawn out version of his name leaving your lips. “I thought we talked about this ages ago; you can’t go putting trackers on people without their consent!” He doesn’t seem all that bothered by your outburst as he mocks “Oh boo hoo, y’all constantly whine about that right up until the moment it benefits you - like right now!” But he goes digging through one of the pockets on his belt anyway and holds out the small device he finds to you. Your anger more or less evaporates as you are yet again reminded that Rocket does care, in his own way. You kneel down to his level, take the tracker and give him a hug as you thank him - and just for good measure, press a long, disgusting kiss to his furry cheek as payback for laughing at your predicament. He scrambles out of your hold in obvious discomfort, gagging noises accompanying you as you take your leave, but as usual, he needs to have the last word, shouting “Save the smooches for Goldilocks!!” at your retreating figure.
Not even ten minutes later, you’re looking up at one of the tallest buildings in Knowhere. It’s an old, dilapidated communications tower that is long overdue for demolition; it’s all rusted metal and broken off, jagged edges, entirely impossible to climb without flight capabilities. Out of options, you helplessly check the tracker once more just to make sure that, yes, unfortunately he’s really up there, Rocket’s tech could be trusted on that and squinting up at the top you’re almost sure you see a glimmer of gold. You pocket the device with a shaky inhale and cup your hands around your mouth. “Adam!” you shout, even though you don’t really need to; he’s got enhanced senses, you’re certain he’d be able to hear you even if you whispered. “Adam, I know you’re up there, can you please come down?” Five seconds pass. Then ten. Then thirty. Nothing. “Listen, I know I messed up and I know you’re upset, but this isn’t gonna just go away, we need to talk about it!” A full minute of silence passes this time, dread and anxiety weighing down your shoulders more and more with each second that ticks by. When you speak again, you’re worried about your voice breaking, so it does come out as a whisper this time. “Adam, please. At least give me a chance to fix this.” Head hung low, you run both hands through your hair and over your face with an annoyed groan, upset with both his stubbornness and with yourself for having caused this mess in the first place. Thinking your attempt at a conciliation lost, you turn to leave and almost fall flat on your ass in shock when you find Adam standing there, arms crossed over his chest and glaring at you. “I do not wish to speak with you.”
“And you don’t have to, you just… have to listen for a moment, alright?” It takes him a few long, agonizing seconds to begrudgingly nod and you let out a relieved breath. Despite the hours you’d just spent searching for him, carefully laying out what you wanted to say, you’re drawing a blank at this very moment, but you try anyways. “Okay, look… I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I truly am.” When he scoffs in disbelief you reach for his hand, only to have him pull away, making your heart sink. Ever since he’d started experiencing things for himself and figuring out his likes and dislikes, it’d become clear quite quickly that Adam enjoyed physical affection, especially when you were the one to initiate it. He’d never turned it down - until now. How badly had you messed up?
“I mean that, Adam. It’s just that… I know Ayesha was your family and you miss her, but the person you knew her to be and the person I knew her to be are… quite contrasting. And I honestly don’t think there’s a way for me to reconcile both views with each other. I’ve let you talk about her because it seemed to make you happy, but you have to understand that it’s hard for me to hear praises about a person who was directly responsible for so much suffering and pain in my life. However, I also know that my experiences and rage… blind me, to a certain degree; lumping together all Sovereign isn’t fair, cause everybody’s their own person and can make their own choices, you’ve proven that.”
You can see the gears turning in his head, but he stays quiet and avoids looking at you all the same. You swallow hard around the lump that’s formed in your throat before you continue speaking. “Be that as it may, I also want you to know that you don’t have to accept my apology if you don’t want to.” His eyes are on you in a second and the hopeful tone in his voice when he says ‘I don’t?’ threatens to split your heart in two. “No, you don’t. I’m apologizing because it’s the right thing to do and because I feel absolutely awful about having hurt someone I care so much about. But if you feel that I’ve crossed a line, then…” Clearing your throat to keep your voice from breaking, you feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Then you’re under no obligation to accept it for my sake and I’ll have to live with that. I’ll give you some time to think about it.” Brushing past him, calls of your name fall on deaf ears as you leave, considering that’s just about all the emotional toll you’ll be able to take today.
A pillow tightly clutched to your chest, you’re curled up in bed not much later, tears still fresh on your cheeks. Honestly, you’re not sure why exactly you’re even crying. Because you’re sad at the prospect of having lost a friend? Because, despite of what you said, you wish he’d been less stubborn and just accepted your apology? Because you’re frustrated with yourself over how close you’d allowed the two of you to grow in the first place? It really doesn’t make sense to you. It had taken years for the rest of the Guardians to chip away at the walls you’d built around yourself so that they could squeeze inside, but Adam? A few months was all it had taken for him to get under your skin. For you to look forward to spending time with him everyday. For his laugh to become your favorite sound. For —
Your train of thought gets stopped dead in it’s tracks by a soft knock on your door, immediately followed by the scratching of tiny claws and an all too familiar whine. Wiping your palms over your eyes to get rid of the rest of the wetness staining your face, you scramble out of bed and make your way towards the entrance of your apartment. As expected, you find Adam and Blurp on the other side, the F’Saki slipping inside like he owns the place as soon as he’s able. He makes himself comfortable on the foot of your bed and looks at both of you expectantly, all bright eyes and perked ears. A setup like this normally means movie night, a little tradition you’d started to help Adam get a hold on as many customs as possible while still having fun and not actually throwing him into social interactions that would make everybody involved uncomfortable. For all intents and purposes, with the dim lighting in your room, the messy bed and Adam on your doorstep in his usual sleeping getup of sweatpants and a tank top, it does look like that’s what’s about to happen, you can’t blame the little guy for misinterpreting. Dragging your gaze back to the golden man at your doorstep, you’re surprised to find he doesn’t look half as exhausted as you feel. Matter of fact, this is the calmest and most determined you’ve seen him all day.
“May I come in?” You step aside to let him, gently closing the door behind you both with a quiet click. “I’ve thought about what you told me earlier and I think I’ve come to a conclusion on what I must do.” Dreading what comes out of his mouth next, you can’t seem to muster up the strength to look at him and keep your eyes downcast, only for his hands to enter your field of view and grab hold of your own. “I need to apologize to you.” Your head snaps up to find that he’s completely serious and barely manage to stutter out an incredibly intelligent ‘Huh?’
Adam lightly squeezes your hands when he continues. “Up until you pointed it out, it never occurred to me how the topic of my mother, my people might make you feel. Unintentional or not, my actions hurt someone I care about and I don’t like how it makes me feel. Apologizing is what I should do in that case, correct?” You wrangle with yourself for a second, but then squeeze back gratefully. “Yes, that’s right, and I’m thankful that’s the conclusion you came to, but… Adam, you couldn’t have known. I never said anything about it, instead I let my negative emotions fester and grow until I couldn’t take it anymore and it all came out in the worst way possible. If anything, we’re both a little to blame for this.” Pausing to take a deep breath, you continue with the question you really want answered, even though you’ve got a pretty good idea already. “So… does that mean we’re okay? You’re not upset with me and want me out of your life?” You watch his eyes grow wide in shock and his hands move up to your shoulders to settle there with a firm grip. “Is that what you were afraid of? Why you’ve been crying?” Shrugging as best as you can, you mumble “Kind of? You seemed so angry with me, I just thought I’d crossed a line there was no coming back from and it made me sad, so—“ The sentence stays unfinished as Adam envelops you in a bone crushing hug, even lifting you off the ground a little.
“(y/n), you’re the best thing that’s happened to me since I came into this world and I don’t even want to think about what my life would be like without you in it.” he says, face buried in the crook of your neck and you’re glad for it as you feel heat rising all the way to the top of your ears. Hugging him back just as tight, you reply “I don’t want to think about my life without you in it anymore, either.” Content just being in each other’s arms, you stay like that for a bit, until he breaks the comfortable silence with a quiet call of your name as he carefully puts you back on your feet, to which you respond with a hum of acknowledgment. “Do you really think me incapable of love?” And just like that, the feeling of wanting to throw yourself out an airlock returns; frantically stringing together the word ‘No!’ about ten times as you pull back to properly look at him. “No, of course I don’t, that was just… When people are angry, they’ll sometimes say and do things they don’t actually mean. But I swear I don’t think that about you, how could I? You’re proving the opposite every day.”
“I am?” he questions, brows furrowed, confusion and doubt clear as day and you can’t help but laugh softly as you go to cup his handsome face between your palms. “Oh my sweet Adam, do you really not see it?” Bringing his own hands to lightly hold your wrists, he sighs. “I wasn’t created to love. I was created to kill. To destroy. To bring pain and misery. So when you said that, I was… I am scared you might be right.” Gently running your thumbs over his cheeks, you simply look at your golden boy for a mere moment. The last rays of the artificial sunlight filtering in through your blinds cast him in a beautiful glow; eyes warm like honey, skin glittering like stars and the pattern of slightly darker golden, coppery spots over his nose and cheeks, an imperfection akin to freckles you’re still surprised they let him keep, all the more prominent. Of course he’s capable of love, he has to be. Surely, you wouldn’t fall for someone who wouldn’t be able to—
Oh.
Oh.
So that’s what that prick of a raccoon had been talking about. With the benefit of hindsight, it honestly baffles you it had taken this long for the other shoe to drop. Adam calling your name is what kicks your brain back into functioning after that epiphany; you blink and shake your head a little before responding. “Sorry, I was just… never mind. Do you… do you really not see how your everyday actions show love?” His eyes flick between yours as he considers your words and then settles on “I’m… not entirely certain what love is supposed to look or feel like.”
“Oh dear, uhm…” you’re unsure if you’ll be able to explain that to him properly, but you’ll be damned if you don’t at least try. “Well… there’s many different forms of love. All similar, but slightly different in some ways. But overall it’s… to deeply care for another being, I guess? When being with them brings you joy? When you want to see them safe and happy? And even though you might wish for that happiness to be with you, it’ll be fine if it’s not cause they matter more to you than yourself.” Your hands have wandered to the base of his neck, fingers buried in the short hair as he cocks his head to the side in thought. “Like you and the rest of the Guardians let Peter Quill and Mantis go on their own paths even though it made you sad to see them go?” Grinning, you nod in confirmation. “Exactly. And the way you took it upon yourself to take care of the animals we saved? The way you adopted Blurp, in spite of what your mother wanted, cause you felt he was sad and lonely? How you went out of your way to make sure I felt comfortable around you? All of that means you care. All of that are ways of showing love.” It’s obvious he’s trying real hard to comprehend everything you’ve just explained to him, but it a lot, so you continue with “Love is one of the most simple and basic emotions in most beings. But navigating it and differentiating between it’s different forms can be difficult - for everyone. There’s no rush though, you can take all the time in the world to figure it all out for yourself. I promise you have nothing to worry about, you’re perfectly fine, okay?”
Adam brings one of his hands from your waist up to cup your cheek and smiles when you lean into his touch. This is what he’d been trying to tell you earlier, when he’d compared you to his mother: He trusts you completely, your judgement, too. You make him feel at peace like no one else in the universe. “Okay.” he replies and you return his smile, just barely containing the urge to pepper kisses over his pretty face and -
Yeah you’re gonna have to deal with this particular mess of emotions sooner rather than later.
The tender moment gets interrupted by Blurp whining at you two, impatiently hopping from one paw to another on the foot of your bed. “It would appear Blurp insists on a movie night. If you feel like it?” you chuckle and Adam happily agrees. So you set up everything as usual and settle on a lighthearted family comedy to watch. But the day’s been long, exhausting and emotionally draining; try as you might your eyes keep drifting shut and you’re out cold ten minutes into the movie.
The golden man jumps a bit when there’s a slight thump against his shoulder, only to find you fast asleep. His focus now on you instead of the movie, tender fingers ghosting over the bandaid on your forehead in concern, he thinks about what you’ve just told him. About what love was supposed to feel like and it dawns on him that yes, the warmth that spreads through his chest all the way down to his feet when you do as little as smile at him must be love. And yet when he’s with you it’s… different from what it felt like to be with his mother or to be with Blurp or the rest of the Guardians. It irks him to not be able to properly discern what makes you special; you’d said there were different forms of love, but how was he supposed to understand the difference?
As you curl into his side more, one arm coming across his chest to hug him and his name subconsciously falling from your lips in a barely audible, sleepy mumble, he realizes it doesn’t matter, nor does he really care, at least not right this moment. For now, it’s enough for him to be certain of the fact that he loves you and you love him - in whatever way.
#adam warlock x reader#adam warlock x you#gn reader#adam warlock#gotg vol 3#adam warlock fluff#idiots in love#angst#hurt/comfort#guardians of the galaxy#mcu#will poulter#my writing
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