Avengers Imagines (Part One)

Scott Lang X Reader - Another Place

A/N- This is a super short imagine based on the lyric "I could write a book about the things that you said to me on the pillow," from 'Another Place' by Bastille. I love this song in general, but I think this line is absolutely perfect. I hope you all like it.

You wished you could commit every word Scott had said to you into your mind, unfaltering memories finding themselves imbedded in your brain in perfect condition. For such a smart man, he had a habit of uttering some of the most stupid things, the words flowing from his mouth as soon as they entered his head. Why do dogs hate cats? How does wind start? Can you break your lungs if you only breathe in? and your personal favourite: Can you ever just be whelmed? 

Sometimes, when laying beside him in your bed, you would attempt to find an answer, wracking your brains in hopes of eventually managing to put his mind at ease, but so often they were unanswerable. But you would remain, tucked under his arm as you searched the internet with him, reading through articles and wikipedia pages. It had become a common habit after a while, a pass time that you enjoyed to share together.

Scott shifted against you this evening, poking you slightly to draw your attention to him and grinning when you finally locked eyes. "I have a question," he started as you reached out, running your fingers over the scruffy beard that he'd been neglecting recently. "Why do people say they 'slept like a baby' when babies wake up, like, ten times a night?"

The laugh that escaped you was light and airy, and Scott couldn't help but feel his heart lift as you shook your head.

"What? I'm being serious," he exclaimed, breaking half way through the statement and dissolving into laughter with you. 

"You are such an idiot," you chortled, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his in a quick kiss. 

Scott smiled, pulling you closer and kissing you deeper. "I'm your idiot," he grumbled, "you're stuck with the stupid questions."

You smoothed down his hair, smiling when it bounced back into it's messed style. "I like your stupid questions," you told him softly, "we should write them down, we'd make a fortune on that book."

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