ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟɪᴇsᴛ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ (weaponizing) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-04-11 18:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, gamora, peter quill (star-lord) |
Who: Peter Quill & Gamora
What: Gamora wakes up green, panics a little, but pancakes and bacon make things better
When: Today!
Where: Gamora's apartment
Rating/Warnings: Mostly low - innuendo and mentions of people being naked
Status: Complete
What a wild ride those dreams had been. They were the biggest bunch of losers imaginable, these Guardians of the Galaxy, but they had gotten the job done. Ronan was destroyed - and it happened thanks to, literally, the forces of teamwork and holding hands. Now who knew what would happen next? The battle had only just been won, the dust hadn’t even settled yet, and no one really even had time to mourn the loss of Groot. Rocket especially. When Gamora awakened, she planned to ask if Peter had seen the very end yet - it took her a second to stir in bed, to come out of unconsciousness, and she flung her arm across his chest before burrowing like a hibernating animal. Hair now streaked with crimson all haphazard in a curtain over her face, sleep crust in her eyes (sexy), breasts smushed against him - her whole body was really, because he was warm. Here in her room (it was very boho, with Kilim pillows, tribal stencils on wooden dressers, and even a fiddle-leaf fig she was attempting to keep alive by the window), she’d gone to sleep relatively content. But now, when she opened those dark, dark eyes and caught a glimpse of her own very green arm, she suddenly felt sick. “Peter!” Gamora bolted up in a panic, yanking the sheet closer to cover herself - she wasn’t wearing any clothes, and also felt vulnerable in the sense that she was so alien. Peter had in fact been all caught up on their alternate life dreams. He’d been trying to make sense of a lot of it in between just enjoying having his blasters back, and feeling like a total badass for saving the Galaxy. And holding an infinity stone without dying. And getting a new family of misfit alien orphans. A pretty sweet deal, he thought, Disney ending all the way. But as he hadn’t wanted to ruin anything for Rocket or Gamora unless something needed to be said, he was waiting to see just when they’d catch up, they weren’t far behind after all. Instead he enjoyed the growth of their relationships here (there was a lot less chance of death) and snuggling up with Gamora in her comfy ass sheets that he was sure she spent more money on than he did rent. The sudden jolting about the bed, her calling him, and yanking the covers over herself as if to hide. Was there someone else here? Doubtful, Gamora would be at their throats naked as a baby with no fucks to give before she could wake Peter up. He sat up surprised, all the same, glancing around the room for danger--maybe a spider, fuck they’d have to burn her place down. “What?! What?!” He looked to her for an answer but along with seeing a vulnerability that he’d never seen before, Peter realized Gamora’s little transformation into, well, her true self. “Oh, wow. Look at you..” Was that what she was freaking out about? There were subtle hints in various conversations about it. He couldn’t imagine being a different color than anyone else in the world. Scooting closer to her so they were touching again he reached out to comb his fingers through her hair, thumb brushing along the markings over her cheek bone. She was really a beautiful woman, and he wondered if the other Zenwhoberis looked anything like her. Probably not. “It’s alright, you just got your, uh, extra stuff. Now you can kick more ass...right?” Gamora knew this was coming, based on all the talk on the network - she’d even become friends with another fellow alien, Garrus, who had very much turned into his true self. He was the only ‘turian’ she knew of and now she was the only Zen-whoberi. Really, she shouldn’t be so surprised - the ocular and respiratory implants had come first, enhancing her stamina and senses, and now she was...complete. She still felt jarred, though. Like she hadn’t settled into this yet. “Maybe,” she said, extending her hand, flexing her fingers, while she cautiously leaned into Peter’s touch at her cheek. Then she winced. “It...hurts. A little.” A lot, actually. Muscle and tissue over a metal cybernetic skeleton - her bones were not made of the same stuff they were before, they were not calcium and collagen. The metal was lightweight, to allow for ease of movement and increased speed, but every part of her ached. “Hurts?”, he asked incredulously, big blue eyes dilating as he looked her over as if he'd be able to see her pain with his own eyes, but no. He knew from what Rocket had told him that Gamora and Nebula had certain enhancements, all thanks to Thanos, and Peter knew nothing that came from that turkey ass was going to be gentle. Peter took his hand away just in case he was contributing to that pain. Turning to shift on his knees he did offer up his palms, letting her hand rest there, larger fingers grazing her skin lightly. “Should we take you to the doctor, or..?” Would the doctor even be able to help her? They had pain meds. There had to be some other worldly doctors here, maybe not from their life, but someone who could help. He felt a little helpless. “I can make you a heavy drink?” “Coffee is fine,” Gamora chuckled quietly, placing her hands in Peter’s, her fingertips brushing over the lines on his palms as if she was working on telling the future. “Coffee and ibuprofen, I will be alright.” Lots and lots of ibuprofen. She hoped she didn’t damage her organs with the OTC pain meds she intended to take, but it was doubtful - her healing factor would kick in, and right now she would do anything to not feel like an old woman. Shifting off of the bed, she moved to grab her underwear and the t-shirt that was now hers but technically Peter’s, however, Gamora had definitely stolen it so it was therefore hers now. Then she was somewhat dressed, though admittedly it’d be a bit before she could look into a mirror and not be startled. She would just avoid them in the meantime. “It’s the cybernetic skeleton. One of Thanos’ upgrades,” she explained. “It will take some time to get used to.” Peter’s face softened once she was able to chuckle, settling on coffee and the meds. So it was more initial shock, which was good, because he had no idea to help her otherwise. Not that he wouldn’t do anything he could. If coffee was the ticket right now than so be it. Scooting out of bed he pulled on his boxers and gave a long stretch, wiping the sleep from his eyes before going back to check on Gamora as she narrowly avoided the mirrors and covered up. Deciding to put on the charm and warm, teddy bear act to get her feeling cozy in her own skin, no matter what the coor, Peter wrapped his arms around her from behind. All six foot three and thick builded Terran and...something else body holding her steadily against him as he placed a kiss to her temple and then her neck. “I’m sure it will. It’s a really big change, but, I don’t have to be anywhere for the next two days and I can take some vacation time off too until you’re comfortable.” He let the offer sit on the table before releasing her to move into her fancy schmancy kitchen that made his look vintage, just the way he liked it. Though he had no problem firing up her Keurig for some coffee and fetching the ibuprofen and a glass of water for her while the coffee brewed. You’d think someone like Gamora would have a utilitarian kitchen - all shiny surfaces and so much efficiency. But instead it was as boho as the rest of her place, open shelving, striped rugs on either side of the island, pale blue and hanging copper pots. She didn’t do a lot of cooking but tried to make her apartment her sanctuary. Someplace that was hers, decorated by her and not related to her father’s tastes in any way. The coffee brewed and she quickly downed a couple painkillers, going to the fridge to see what she had laying around for breakfast. She’d woken up earlier than anticipated and actually had time to make something for her and Peter before dashing off for work. Though that begged the question - how could she dash off looking like this? “You would not mind taking vacation?” she asked, holding the butter and milk in both hands. Pancakes made from scratch - she could handle that. “I just...I need to find someone who can help me with something to - hide my appearance. Regina, one of my employers, offered a while ago.” Gamora really hoped that offer was still good. “Don’t be silly.” He face looked perplexed as he helped gather the other things for the pancakes. Oh and bacon from the fridge, pancakes needed bacon. “That’s what paid time off is for. I’m not exactly a workaholic like you, babe. I’d rather hang around until you feel comfortable than go back to work and worry.” Pulling two mugs from the taller portion of the cupboard, he almost dropped them, fumbling with the ceramic in his hands before setting it down on the counter. “Why are you going to hide it? There’s nothing wrong with the way you look.” Bacon. Yes, pancakes required bacon as a side, this was true. Gamora half-smiled as she poured them mugs of coffee (the k-cups were cinnamon dolce from Starbucks, she liked the flavor, don’t judge her). “You are very sweet,” she noted, and that was just her being honest - she was constantly surprised by how gentle and kind Peter was, even though she knew she shouldn’t be. He was like that in the dreams too. Maybe a little rougher around the edges there - but the influence of the Ravagers would do that to a person. They were thieves and pirates, go figure. Still, she was always surprised in a good way. She felt lucky to have a Peter returned her kiss with a small smile, taking his mug to sip gratefully and laid began to lay out the bacon strips...all of them, because she appreciated the same deliciousness he did. In the same quantities, nearly. He didn't much care for the idea she was already associating herself and the idea of “not normal”. Frowning, he shrugged gently as he continued on with the bacon after a swig of his coffee. “This whole place isn't normal. What's normal anyways.” He pfffffffft’d his lips together. “There's no way this is the first time it's happened before and everyone else here is just...covering it up.” Were they? No one else seemed to be bothered by the dreams. Not the undreaming natives. “Do you want me to be accosted?” Gamora asked, and sure, she could take care of herself in theory - but a green-skinned woman walking around? She could not chalk that up to cosplaying, most likely. At least not all the time. “Because I probably would be. It’s just the way it is in this world. The other alien I met, Garrus, he has some device that gives him human physical characteristics too - because otherwise he has talons and reptilian skin.” Gamora’s skin still felt the same - she just looked physically different. There were facial markings and more pronounced cheekbones too, changes in her bone structure because of the cybernetics most likely. “When I am alone with you or others I am comfortable with, I will not wear a disguise,” she promised - if that helped - and now that the pancake batter was mixed, started to pour it onto the hot griddle. In weird shapes. Like blobs. Gamora could do many things, but perfectly-shaped pancakes did not seem possible. Well, they’d probably still taste okay? Peter almost snorted his coffee whilst laughing at her question. Sorry. Just the idea of regular, people cops arresting Gamora was an SNL skit. He looked at her fondly, “Of course not, but they can't just...arrest you because you're green and red and silvery. That's racist.” Ok, joking aside--who the fuck drank all his coffee? Setting the now empty mug down, Quill set the bacon into the oven on broil before leaning against the counter to watch her pour the blob cakes. He would eat pretty much anything. He was a large man child who liked food, period. “Whatever you want to do to feel comfortable I understand.” He couldn't understand what it was to be different in that regard--but in their dreams? His fleshy white skin and blue eyes were he abnormality in the galaxy. He knew what it felt like from those memories to feel different in a galaxy of monsters and creatures far more stronger and scary looking than he was. “Sooo, are you going to find a thing that Garrus has or should I go to the store and buy a shitload of concealer? I don't know much about makeup but there's enough videos on YouTube to figure it out.” They were definitely pancake blobs, like misshapen Mickey heads, but those along with the smell of bacon sizzling helped Gamora feel a little better about everything. The bouts of domesticity kept her calm and not spiraling into a destructive panic, like she would be if she were alone. “I will find something,” she said, huffing a laugh - concealer would take too long to apply, and who wanted to be slathered with a layer of goop? “There are many talented people around here who will help me with a cover-up.” Using a spatula, she plated their blobcakes when they had golden and crispy edges. “And you are sure this is alright...? You still desire fornication with me like this?” Of course she knew he did, but she was just checking. Everything was green, maybe that was a turn-off. “I can help you, if you want. See if I had only gotten my ship this month we could see if there's actually a place out there for that.” Oh well, he got his guns and his Helmet. “Just promise me whatever you do..don't make it really change who you are? Because fuck everyone else Gamora. Only not literally. You're perfect the way you are.” He watched her pass out the blob cakes, grabbing strips of bacon to place onto each of the plates, smirking and moving to wrap his arms around her waist from behind, planting tender kissed to her neck and nuzzling into her shoulder. “Gamora...you..I mean, I really care about you. A lot. I want to be with you no matter what. Awesome sex aside. Unless you don't think we can still give your neighbors nightmares.” He winked deviously, nipping at her neck. “No, we can still do that. They can wear earplugs - I do not care about them,” Gamora grinned, tilting her head back a bit. She wasn’t about to tone down the ‘awesome sex’ (as Peter described it - he wasn’t wrong) just for someone else’s sake - hey, she paid her rent on time, fuck off. “I am glad to hear it though. I...care about you too. A lot.” She wiggled back against him, turning to brace her hands on his chest and press herself closer, practically melting into him. Gamora did not want to admit that she was so shallow as to be turned on by his muscles but - well, it was what it was. Physical attraction was important. “How does it end, then? Those dreams. Do we fly off in your ship all together?” A whole family, together. Healing (and still reeling) from Groot’s death, but they would get through it if they had each other. And they had saved the galaxy. It was quite the feeling to experience. Chuckling and nibbling her ear playfully before backing away so he wouldn't cause her to burn herself. Or him. He could be something of a clutz. “Last I checked, yeah. We saved the whole fucking galaxy. Not just Nova or a couple of grandmas walking the street. Whole, fucking, galaxy.” He got a little starry eyed because although someone had to do it. And they were the perfect band of misfits to do it. Take that, Nova Corps. “And they rebuilt my ship--which is still not here--and cleared our charges and now we have all these cool allies. And enemies.” And apparently he was half ancient alien something. Which made sense, given how fucking durable he was. Surviving without his helmet? Blown across the galaxy? Humans didn't survive that. “We beat Kevin Bacon at sweet ass endings.” As long as they beat Kevin Bacon - Gamora had a feeling that was very important. She settled at the table with pancakes and actual bacon, along with the treasure that was her cup of coffee, and dug in right away. Loading herself up with carbs and salty meat could only help her feel better about changing so drastically. “Your ship will come, don’t you think?” she asked, nudging Peter under the table. Starting a game of footsie, worming between his legs and suggestively going for the balls, that too. “There are lots of ships here. I bet yours will be next.” A very big deal. Peter would even go as far as to say that they also won out over Top Gun. Anything, really. No one saved the galaxy except for them. Bam. Scarfing up the pancakes like his life depended on it, he moved back and forth between them and the bacon before deciding ‘fuck it’ and just breaking the bacon on top of the pancakes and eating it all at once. Pure heaven. He had to wash his chipmunk cheeks down with a new cup of coffee before answering her question, seemingly perturbed. As much as Peter could be, anyways. “It better!” He narrowly deflected her feets from his balls which she seemed to love to mess with. “Leave my precious stones alone, I need them.” He swatted at her foot. “But yes, I have to know if all of the things in our dreams are still out there here too. And also, I just want my ship.” Gamora laughed, a rare playful sound from her, though she focused on breakfast and would cease with teasing her Terran (part something else too??) lover. “I am sure,” she soothed. “And when you get it, I am also sure it will be just as filthy as it was when we were on it. Though we can always add our own filth.” Christen the Milano, yes. It would be necessary - they would go traipsing off to take a ride by the twinkling stars too, of course. How beautiful would that be, to see the galaxies like they did in their dreams. “Where would you even keep it?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. More bacon was shoveled into her mouth - she didn’t crumble it all over her pancakes (though that was a good idea) but she was still happily consuming it regardless. “I can ask Garrus where he keeps his own ship. It’s called the Normandy.” Somewhere safe and secure - Peter could not just park the thing at his apartment complex, naturally. Even if it was at his expense, Peter so loved Gamora’s laugh, a real win in his book for the day, smirk pulling to his face. “It wasn't that bad, alright. I'd been trying to separate from the Ravagers for awhile and as you know my escape driving usually ends up with all the parts and stuff on the floor. Why keep cleaning it up?” And who were the other Guardians to complain, he didn't see them with any ships. He was of course up for adding their “filth” to it though, winking deviously at her between bites (or inhales) of bacon. “You know I haven't really thought about that.” Big surprise there. Though with all that people seemed to get here, castles, weapons, houses, there had to be some sort of protocol. “The Normandy, that's cute. I bet it's in a storage locker or like a garage somewhere. Maybe I should really get a bigger place and keep it in uh..oversized garage. Or something.” Peter wouldn't trust anyone else or anywhere else to hide his ship. “An oversized garage for a spaceship. You are impossible,” Gamora rolled her eyes fondly, pushing her plate toward Peter so he could finish off her bacon. Oddly enough, she was full - she’d eaten about three pigs worth of meat - and she didn’t want the metric ton they’d cooked to go to waste. Though she was sure Peter would get his ship, and also sure they’d figure things out. Like the logistics of where to stash such a vessel. Their adventures were far from over, and she was more than alright with that. |