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cxsmicbaby · 10 months

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this is the day

pairing : peter quill x reader

warnings : alcohol use; angst with a happy ending :p

word count : 4.7k

a/n : inspired by this is the day by the the. i love this actually. something cute :)

peter’s forgotten how to have fun. you help him remember, and suddenly he is reminded of things he pushed down a long, long time ago.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Peter is starting to really hate space.

He’s spent his whole life out there; once, a ravager, then a lone ranger, and now in apart of a team of his own. He used to sit by the windows on Yondu’s ship and watch as the stars slowly passed them by, twinkling; he would think about how once, they had been more like drawings on the sky than real things, and now, they were places he could go. It was like magic.

It’s all grown pretty stale, if he’s being honest. Which is why he really enjoys just staying put on Knowhere, drinking until his vision goes blurry. Listening to his music and ignoring all his problems. Letting the rest of them carry the heavy weight, because Peter tried, and he couldn’t handle it. He hasn’t been out in his ship in months. Sometimes he misses it, but then he remembers that it’s the feeling he’s missing, not the actual act. There’s no way to get that feeling back.

You seem to think different. You, with your inability to accept defeat, and your voice so loud he can hear it even when his music is on full volume. You’re outside the bar, engaged in some sort of argument with who-knows-who, and it sounds like you’re losing. Peter isn’t drunk enough to not be able to stand just yet, and his curiosity gets the better of him, so he turns his music down and tries to listen for what you’re saying.

“—acting like a dick, Rocket. He hasn’t left that place all day, and he’s been doing this for weeks. I’m sure the seat has his ass imprinted into it.”

“He’s grieving. I think we should just let him be, you know? Let him get through it.”

“Everyone is grieving! You don’t see anyone else drinking themselves to death.”

Rocket doesn’t seem to have a retort to that. Peter thinks that maybe he should be hurt by the way you’re talking about him, but he knows you’re right. You usually are.

“All he needs is to be reminded of who he is. Reminded of why he does this in the first place, you know. Of why it’s fun to be alive.”

“Okay, and how would we do that? We can’t even get him out of those clothes. He’s been wearing them for two days straight.”

Peter looks down at himself. He has been wearing these clothes for two days, hasn’t he? That’s gross, he thinks. He almost smells himself before he decides against it.

He’s so distracted by the idea of his own stench that he doesn’t notice the voices have stopped, and suddenly the door swings open, sending him tumbling backwards. Peter falls on his ass, but scrambles to stand, very conscious of how disgusting everyone must think he is after overhearing such a sobering conversation.

You stare down at him, your mouth spread into a wide grin. You offer him a hand, which is not what he was expecting, but he takes it anyway.

“Go take a shower, Pete! We’re going on an adventure.” You pull him to his feet.

“What?” Peter says, and his eyebrows furrow a little at how dumbstruck he sounds. Maybe it’s the liquor. He did have a good amount before your screaming disrupted him.

“I said, we’re going out. We’re gonna have some fun, like old times.” You’re not asking him, you’re telling him, and even if he’s slightly drunk Peter knows better than to outright say no to you. He’s known you a bit longer than the rest, as he met you about a year before the whole Ronan thing. You worked together on and off, and he got to know you and your quirks—he was a different guy back then, though. He’s honestly not sure why you kept talking to him, because sometimes he thinks about the vulgar things he used to say to you and shivers in disgust. Even worse, the things he used to think about you. If he had voiced any of those thoughts he probably wouldn’t be alive right now.

“Man, I’m tired. Can’t we go another time?” he tries, attempting to let you down easy. Your smile doesn’t falter, and you slap your hand on his shoulder, probably a little harder than you meant to.

“Nope! We’re going now, today. Go home, I’ll pick you up in an hour.” The rest of the sentence goes unspoken—if you aren’t ready when I come, I will kick you in the nuts until they both explode. Peter hears it, though, despite your warm grin. You’ve always had a very pretty, innocent smile, which doesn’t really match your personality. He finds it slightly off-putting.

Peter takes his time walking home, finishing the bottle of liquor on his way there. His tolerance has gotten infuriatingly high due to his overconsumption these past weeks, but it’s still worth a try. Maybe if you show up and he’s too drunk, you won’t make him go. You’ll certainly be disappointed, but he’ll still be able to stay in.

No, that’s not really worth it. Peter really hates disappointing you. It’s different than when you’re mad, because when you’re mad at least Peter knows he is going to either be hit or berated, and that’s always over soon enough. But when you’re disappointed, it lasts. And you’re sad. He’d rather you be mad at him than sad because of something he’s done.

It occurs to him; you’ve probably been saddened, seeing him like this. And that’s what motivates him to actually shower for the first time in who knows how long, and to put on an outfit that doesn’t stink, and to wait patiently for you by his door. He closes his eyes and tries to get a moment of sleep, but soon he hears those tell-tale knocks and he stands with a sigh, opening it to see you standing there. You look excited.

“Wow, you actually did it! I’m so proud,” you exclaim, and though he’s sure you’re being sarcastic, Peter feels himself smile a little. He bites it back and pushes gently past you.

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s just go. Wherever it is we’re going.”

Peter lets you drive, because he doesn’t feel like it, and he also doesn’t think it’s a great idea to steer a spaceship while... impaired. When the ship leaves the planet’s atmosphere, he feels himself jolt up a bit, unfamiliar with the feeling after spending so long on the ground. The blue sky fades into darkness, littered with stars. He should think it’s beautiful, but all he can think about is how many horrible things have happened to him out here. How many horrible things he’s done.

“You’re gonna love this, I promise. Total blast from the past,” you reassure, noticing how his face has fallen ever so slightly. Peter ignores you and sighs instead, reaching into his pocket to slide a cassette tape into the stereo. At least if he’s forced to be out here, he can have his music.

He’s not prepared to hear what plays. It’s a classic, for sure. It’s a great song. But he can’t hear without thinking about her, and that’s really not what he wants to be doing right now. He still remember exactly what Gamora looked like, staring up at him with glittering eyes, hearing this song for the first time. He was the one who introduced her to music. That’s basically a soul bond. The thought makes him slump into his seat.

“This is a good one,” you say, swaying from side to side to the melody, oblivious to Peter’s grief. “A little slow, though. You should change it to something more upbeat.”

“Yeah,” Peter whispers, and you turn to him with slightly worried eyes. But he changes the song without saying anything else, and the rest of the ride you both stay quiet.

Peter closes his eyes about halfway through, and when he opens them up again you’ve landed somewhere he recognizes. Of course, he thinks, of course you would bring him here. This is definitely a blast from the past, you got that right.

“Come on, let’s go! It’s about to be prime-time, so there’s probably a happy hour deal somewhere.” You’re already up, putting on a brown leather jacket and walking toward the ship’s door, where a platform is lowering toward the ground. Peter doesn’t know how he feels about being here. Sure, he has a lot of great memories about this place. Most with you, if not all. But something about it makes him feel old and decaying, like those good days are the best he will ever have, and from there it’ll just continue going down.

“Alright, alright. But I don’t wanna stay out for that long.” Peter groans as he stands, stretching for a moment before he follows after you. You seem very happy, or at least, you’re trying to be. For him. That’s the only reason he’s still here, honestly. He knows you just want to make him happy.

The two of you walk out of the ship and down the bustling street, which is already pretty packed. Girls with antennae and guys with gills flirt on the corners, blobs that are vaguely person-shaped slide down the sidewalk in groups, making weird noises that someone smarter than him might be able to discern as speech. This place is just as strange and slightly decrepit as before.

“What do you say, should we just hit up Blue Diamond? I’m sure it’s still open,” you offer, an odd sort of pep in your step. You’re not usually this bubbly. Peter sort of enjoys it.

“I guess, yeah. I’ll just go wherever you wanna go.”

You sigh, and pause for a moment, turning to face him. Your hands fall on his shoulders and you look up at him, trying to stare into his eyes hard enough that he’ll really hear you.

“If you act miserable, you’re gonna be miserable. Try not to be such a downer, okay? Try to have some fun, even if it’s only for right now.” You’ve not been so sincere with him in a long time, and it’s a bit startling. Your eyebrows are raised and you look a little vulnerable, and Peter is starting to feel very, very badly about the way he’s been treating you recently. So, he manages a smile.

“Alright, well since this night is for me, I should get to pick where we go.” His smile grows a little, because yours does too.

“Makes sense to me. Lead the way!”

Peter ends up taking you to Blue Diamond, mostly because he remembers they have a drink there that is strong, and still tasty. Plus, if the same bartender is still working there, he might be able to charm his way into a free drink. She always had a thing for him, you could both tell. You used to laugh about the way she made goggly eyes at Peter when he wasn’t looking.

It’s not the same bartender. It’s actually this weirdly handsome guy who is built like Drax if Drax was a little less bulky. Peter told him once that he needed to get rid of his no-neck, but then Drax told him he needed to get rid of his beer belly, so he stopped.

“It hasn’t changed at all, has it?” you say, standing by his side. You’re right, it hasn’t. Same dim blue lighting, same metal barstools, same ratty old booths. Except, now they have table where people are playing something akin to beer pong, but instead of their hands they’re using these weird, mini tennis rackets. Strange, but Peter’s seen much stranger. Actually, it looks kinda fun.

You start for the bar before he does, strolling past a photo of the bar’s owner on the wall. He must’ve passed, Peter thinks, and that gives him that same sort of painful, existential feeling. He can remember talking to the guy like it was yesterday, and now he’s just gone. He wonders if he felt fulfilled when he died.

Peter takes a seat next to you at the bar, and you wave the bartender down, ordering two drinks that he doesn’t catch the name of. The bartender eyes you in a way that Peter doesn’t really like. It reminds him a lot of the way he used to stare at you when you would go here together, and that makes him feel gross, because if the bartender is thinking the same things he had been in those moments, he probably deserves a slap across the face.

You did slap him across the face, once. Peter remembers exactly what it was about, but neither of you have ever brought it up again, so he chooses to pretend it didn’t happen.

“So, what about this is going to suddenly make me realize that life is fun?” Peter starts, swiveling in his seat so that his body faces yours. You roll your eyes, as this confirms for you that he was listening to your conversation with Rocket.

“I just. I wanna remind you of what it feels like to be happy, you know? You deserve it, Pete. I’m serious.”

He did not expect that answer. “Why are you being so... sweet, lately? You’re being very nice to me and it makes me think you’re up to something.”

You laugh a little, and Peter realizes how long it’s been since he’s heard that; your giggle, which is probably the most perfect-sitcom laugh he’s ever heard in his life. You gaze at his face for a moment before you shrug, and pin your attention somewhere else before you bring your eyes back. There’s something else there now, something realer than before.

“I don’t know. I care about you, a lot. And it feels like you’re letting everything suffocate you. Whatever happened to the Peter that fought back?” You shove him playfully, and he smiles a little sadly at your words. “The Peter that didn’t let anyone tell him that he wasn’t worth it. That was you, it still is. But now it’s you telling yourself that you can’t do it. So I just thought maybe it would help if someone told you that you can.”

Peter doesn’t know what to say. He feels like he might cry, so instead of steeping in the moment he turns back to the bar and sees the guy coming back with your drinks. Perfect goddamn timing.

He downs the first one mere seconds after it’s placed in front of him. The drunkenness he had experienced before you left had turned to lethargy, but now it’s back with a vengeance. The alcohol is quickly in his veins, making him warm, his cheeks a little red. He takes off his coat and drapes it over the back o the stool. If he’s gonna be there, he might as well try to get into it.

Peter orders another once you’ve finished yours, which is not too far after him. You’ve always been a bit of a heavyweight, so you seem mostly sober, but that’ll change quickly. After two more, you’re giggling and leaning on his shoulder, your cheeks tinted pink and your words loose and stumbling together.

“Remember that time we ran into that weird guy here? The one with the horns?” you say, through bouts of laughter. Peter looks down at you and he smiles. He does remember.

“Yeah, I remember how I had to beat his ass. That guy was a fuckin’ pervert.”

You giggle again, hiding your face in his side. Without thinking, Peter wraps his arm around you, and his hand is flat against the curve of your back. Your skin is warm.

“I always thought that was so cute, how you fought for me. So chivalrous,” you confess, your words slightly muffled by his shirt. Peter feels an oddly familiar feeling rise from his stomach to his chest before he swallows it down with a laugh.

“I’ve always been a gentleman, what can I say?” Peter knows that is so false, and so do you, because you shoot up laughing so hard he’s sure tears will spring from your eyes any moment now. You’ve always been so pretty when you laugh, not for any really specific reason, but mostly just because he likes it when you’re yourself. You put up this really tough front a lot, but Peter likes to think he knows you better than anyone. That’s not who you really are. This is who you really are.

“Don’t talk nonsense, Pete. I haven’t forgotten that night.”

And just like that, the entire illusion comes crashing down, and Peter feels the warmth in his chest rise to his cheeks and ears. He’s sure they’re bright red, and this is confirmed when you gently take the edge of one between your fingertips, giggling and teasing him about how embarrassed he’s gotten. He grumbles, pushing your hand away. Your touch sends goosebumps down his neck.

“Come on, don’t bring that up. You know I hate myself for that.” Peter shakes his head and finishes off the remnants of his third drink. It goes down easy and he decides he should probably take a break before ordering another.

You lean your elbow on the bar, your cheek in the palm of your hand. You study him with soft, playful eyes, your smile nostalgic, as if you’re remembering something fondly. Peter thinks you must not be talking about the same thing, because if you were, you wouldn’t be thinking of anything fondly. He can still feel the sting of your hand on his cheek. It ached for a day afterward, and he felt so guilty that he didn’t even ice it. He wanted to feel the pain, a reminder that he should never ever even think about doing something like that again.

And then you speak. “I wasn’t really that mad at you, you know.”

Peter’s mouth parts in surprise. “What?! You fucking backhanded me, man. And I totally deserved it, I’m not complaining, I’m just—what?”

You inhale deeply, and turn away from him, toward the bartender, who has been checking you out even less shamefully since you’ve shed your jacket. You order another drink, which Peter thinks is not a great idea, but who is he to tell you to stop? He’s been doing the same thing for weeks, and he didn’t listen to anyone. It’s not really his place. He only wonders why your reaction to his outburst was more drinks, and not to explain. It makes him feel like there is something you don’t want to tell him.

“I mean, I wasn’t mad for the reason you thought I was. And you’re right, you definitely did deserve that. Even if I felt a little bad about it after,” you finally say, facing him once more. The lighting washes you in blue and makes Peter think of a siren, calling him to his demise from the ocean. He leans closer.

“What... what do you mean?” he asks, timidly. Peter is still very much drunk and he’s struggling to focus. Your eyes get brighter the closer he gets. Your skin looks very soft and he notices a necklace he didn’t before. Mantis must’ve brought it for you on her latest escapade. It’s beautiful.

You stare back at him, and suddenly you giggle softly. “It’s nothing. Just forget it.”

Peter doesn’t want to forget it. But he knows you, and he knows that pushing you too far always results in you pushing back.

The two of you drink, and drink, and drink a little more. You play that weird tennis-beer-pong game and he wins, but not by much. A song you really like comes on and you dance. He watches you from a booth, oddly entranced, before you force him up. You dance awkwardly together around the room, jumping and shimmying, probably off tempo. Peter doesn’t realize it until it’s time to leave, but he hasn’t felt that strange painful nostalgia in at least two hours. That’s a new record.

“Let’s not go back just yet,” you say, your eyes lidded and your words slurring ever so slightly. “I needa walk some of this off before I get back behind the wheel.”

The wheel? That’s not happening. “Nah, we should just sleep on the ship here, and go back tomorrow. I don’t wanna die yet.”

You laugh, and lean into him, interlocking your arms as you start to walk. Your head is heavy on his shoulder, and he keeps tripping over your feet, but he wouldn’t dare ask you to move. He doesn’t want you to. He thinks about how good it feels to be close to someone, and realizes that he missed that, probably most of all.

“Peter,” you start, your voice slightly breathy. You must be very tired. It’s later than he expected to it be and he knows you haven’t drunken like that in a while. Peter likes the way you say his name. “I missed you so much.”

Your words make his heart break. “I know. I missed me too.”

Quiet. The street is nowhere near as bustling anymore; just a few losers sitting passed out on the ground, a group of drunk younger people skipping down the street, a homeless woman petting a stray dog. Peter can hear the sound of his own breathing, steady and slow. Relaxed.

“You didn’t miss me?” Peter can tell you’re teasing, but he can also sense a hint of truth behind your words. His chest aches.

“Of course I did. Of course.” His voice is soft and quiet.

Silence, again. Then, your hand slowly slithers down his arm, and you timidly lace your fingers with his. Peter squeezes. Your hand is cold, despite the rest of your body running hot with liquor.

“Peter?” you say yet again, lifting your head so that you can look at him. Your smile is gone, and your eyebrows are slightly upturned. You look so vulnerable, and again it makes his stomach turn. He wants to hold you in his arms and tell you over and over that he’s sorry, he’s sorry for things he’s done to you, things he hasn’t done, for the way he’s treated you.

“Yeah?” he whispers, instead.

“I wasn’t mad at you because you kissed me. I was mad because I knew you didn’t mean it. Not in the way I wanted you to, anyhow.”

Peter feels like his organs have turned inside out.

His hand goes limp in yours and you take that as a sign that he doesn’t want to hold it anymore, so you let go, your arm falling to your side in defeat. You turn away, and you cross your arms over your chest, almost hugging yourself. You’re always protecting yourself from being hurt, physically, emotionally—he hates that it’s him you are hiding from, this time.

But despite all that, Peter stays silent. He doesn’t know what to say. All the repressed feelings he has for you suddenly threaten to swim up to his throat and he massages his chest, trying to keep them down. You take a deep breath and it sounds watery. You’re still walking, but you’ve slowed just the slightest bit. He slows to be next to you.

“Hey,” he finally says, craning his head, trying to catch your face. Peter swears he can see tears and his hands start to shake. “Hey, look at me. Please.”

You sniffle, and stop walking. You’re clutching yourself really tight, like you’re trying to hold yourself together. Peter’s never seen you like this, and it fills him with this heavy shame; it’s him, that’s made you this way. Him that has reduced you to this. Never in his life has he ever wished anything but good things for you, but here he is, something bad. Something that hurts.

But you look at him. You’re crying, but you still look at him.

You stare at each other in silence for a few moments before you scoff, and avert eye contact. “Well? Say something. Don’t just gawk at me like I’m a zoo attraction.”

Peter swallows hard. “I... I did mean it.”

Something heavy hangs in the air, like the sky right before downpour. You look into his eyes again and your eyebrows suddenly furrow.

“Oh, fuck you, Peter!” Your sudden volume makes Peter flinch, but you keep going. “You are such an asshole. You strung me along for so long. Giving me hope that maybe you felt the same, just to turn around and flaunt another one of your conquests in my face. If you really mean it, you didn’t do a good job of showing that.”

You’re crying hard now, unable to make it through your words without pausing for a small sob. The sight makes Peter reach out for you involuntarily, and he feels his face fall when you recoil from his touch, staring at him like he’s the worst thing to ever happen to you, like he’s the bane of your existence. But then that fades away and you’re just sad, and you’re suddenly looking at him like you love him, and you’d do anything for him, and Peter wants to cry too.

“I swear, I didn’t know,” Peter tries, his voice still quiet. He swallows a tremor. “I thought... I didn’t think you’d ever feel that way. About me.”

You try to glare at him, but your eyes are glistening in the streetlamp’s glow and you look like a fucking angel.

Peter takes a step forward. “I felt that way about you. I... I feel that way about you. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

You don’t move away, but you don’t say anything. You’re still hugging yourself, trying to fold away from his gaze. Peter feels fear bubbling in his chest the longer you remain silent and he can no longer fight the tears that are prickling at the corners of his eyes.

“Please, say something,” he begs, close enough now to touch you. “Please. I can’t... I can’t lose you too.” Peter’s voice cracks and he reaches up slowly to put his arms on yours, trying to drag them from their positions clutching your sides. You let him, and he lets out a small sigh of relief. He holds your hands in his, which are trembling ever so slightly.

Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s still in him, but he swears he can see you about to smile. And then it becomes real, and a soft, beautiful smile spreads across your face, and it’s like the sun is rising.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Peter says, before he can stop himself. And just like that, your lips are on his, your hands on his face, holding it gently between your palms. Peter blinks once, unsure this is really happening, before he feels himself melting from the inside out. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, kissing you like they do in those old films, passionate and loving, like it’s the last thing he’s ever gonna do that matters.

It’s you that pulls away, even though Peter chases after you. You’re still crying, but you’re also still smiling. Peter thinks that he would kill someone just to see you smile like this.

“Let’s keep walking. The night is still pretty young,” you finally say, quiet, like you’re telling him a secret. Peter watches your face for a moment before he mirrors your grin, and wraps his arm tight around your shoulder. You’re right, the night is young. And he has a lot of lost time to make up for, a lot of things to say and do that he has wanted to for so long, and now he finally can.

You walk together, still tripping over one another, still giggling like drunken idiots. And when you reach the ship, you stumble inside, and collapse onto the floor with a heavy, tired sigh. Peter lies down next to you and you cuddle into his side.

“Did it work?”

Peter hums, unsure what you mean, but then he remembers. He strokes your head and closes his eyes, feeling the exhaustion from the liquor beginning to creep up on him.

“I think so.”

You rest your hand on his chest. “You’re worth it, Pete. You are.”

And though someone can say something like that and you can not believe it, Peter believes it, for the first time in so long. He is worth it. Maybe not worth you, just yet. But he can fight for that, he can learn. He can be the person that you deserve. He will be.

That night, Peter dreams of the stars.

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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New Girl [00]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

(slow burn, endgame, as in you’ll be seeing some short term pairings here and then as well)

MODERN DAY AU

Word count: 1,564

Summary: Life threw you a curve ball when you walked in on your long term boyfriend making out with someone who definitely wasn’t you. Since living with him was no longer an option, you’ve ventured out at the advice of a work friend and found the absolute perfect loft to reside in. The only issue?

You suddenly have four very odd roommates.

a/n: a long time ago i mentally cast jensen ackles as disaster clint barton in my head and have not shook it since which is why his picture is used above👍🏼

[00]: WELCOME HOME

Chapter Summary: You find a new place to live. Your friend mentioned all the amenities, but left out a very important detail.

The loft was absolutely gorgeous. It had an industrial feel to it thanks to the brick walls and metal beams running across the ceiling. Despite that, the warm light streaming through the multitude of windows gave it a soft vibe. From where you sat on the recliner you could see a small, open kitchen that sat right across from a large dining area all of which was behind the large, ‘u-shaped’ couch. Honestly, the moment you stepped through the door your brain immediately decided that this is where you wanted to live.

However, there was one little flaw you didn’t foresee when you showed up for the interview/tour.

“So, you guys…are guys.” You said slowly. You laced your fingers together and rested them on your knee awkwardly. In front of you sat four men. Very manly men, actually. Enough so that you weren’t sure why your co-worker would think sending you here to live would be a good idea. Scott Lang had mentioned the open room and the great location, but he had left out this huge detail.

“Yes. Good eye for detail.” The man who introduced himself as Bucky Barnes said dryly. He sat at the far end of the couch in front of you on the left side. He had short, dark hair that kind of looked like he had just rolled out of bed. Sweatpants, a t-shirt, and scruff all along his defined jaw. His stormy eyes looked exhausted, his lips looked downturned into a perpetual frown, and it made you mildly curious since it was literally one in the afternoon and he was nearly dead on his feet.

“I know it’s hard for you to not be a dick, but maybe you can, I don’t know, try?” Sam Wilson, if you remembered his name correctly, replied to him from the entire other end of the couch. The black man had his arms crossed over his chest with a raised eyebrow, but there was nothing but amusement in his brown eyes. Unlike the first man that spoke, this one was dressed in much nicer clothes. A button up shirt and khakis.

You opened your mouth to cut in, but another one of them spoke up first. He sat next to the man who had just spoken, “Quick question, are you single?” You knew his name was Peter but you couldn’t remember what his last name was only that it started with a ‘Q’. He had an impish smirk with sandy blond hair that could only be described as purposely messy. He had a sort of goatee that was mostly just stubble. There was a leather jacket resting on the couch behind him that he had taken off when you first walked in to reveal the tight, gray shirt he wore. “I think it’s the question all of us want answered, right?”

All the men chorused solid disagreements, but it was the man beside him that spoke directly to you. This was the only one who hadn’t actually introduced himself to you. He had come in a couple minutes ago, dropped down on the couch, and then just joined in. You had mentally been referring to him as ‘hot mess’. He had like three bandages on his face, his lip was busted, and he had a fading black eye. His blond hair was also messy, but definitely not in a styled way. More like a ‘I haven’t touched a comb since I was 12’ kind of way. He motioned to you, “Ignore him, the real question we have for you is: Do you have any pets and when can you move in?”

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “We vote before we ask someone to move in. Loft agreement.”

Hot mess spoke again, “Well then let’s—”

“Wait,” You held one hand out and eyes snapped back to you. “Scott told me this was a four-bedroom place, and that you guys were looking for someone to fill a room but…there are already four of you?”

Peter half-heartedly motioned to Bucky and Sam, “These two share a room.”

“Oh!” You bobbed your head with a smile as you motioned to them, “So you guys are a couple?”

“No!” Bucky and Sam both yelled loudly making you jump in shock. They immediately turned and began to bicker with one another.

“Why’re you saying no so fast, man?? I’m a fucking catch.” Sam argued.

“You said no just as quick as I did!”

“Yeah, because I can do a hell of a lot better than a maybe alcoholic still mourning the loss of his psycho ex.”

Bucky sat forward to glare at him, “We are not having this argument again.”

As they continued to yell at one another, while you watched on awkwardly, Peter focused on you with a charming smirk, “They have bunk beds.”

“Bunk… beds?” You questioned skeptically.

“No, no, no.” Sam cut in quickly. He gave up on his argument with Bucky to clarify this. “It’s two very separate beds, on opposite sides of the room. See, I lost a bet so now I’m stuck with his ass—”

“You lost the bet? I lost the bet and now I’m stuck with you.” Bucky argued back.

Hot mess shook his head, “They both lost the bet and now they bunk together like camp buddies.” The two men in question grumbled unhappily. “Also, we’re all super broke so we need someone in the empty room who has a consistent paycheck.” As if to clarify further, he pointed down the couch starting with Bucky, “Bartender at a sketch ass place, in an unknown band, and therapist.”

Sam held one hand up, “I��m the only one with an actual paycheck.”

“I have a paycheck!” Bucky argued.

“And my band is not unknown.” Peter scoffed. “The Guardians have a gig this Thursday!”

Hot mess grinned, “And where are you playing?”

“A Korean restaurant where old men play card game and chain smoke.” Peter mumbled.

You cleared your throat and tried to get this conversation back on track, “You didn’t tell me what your job is. Or your name.”

“Oh, I’m Clint Barton!” He quickly stood up and offered his hand to you. You smiled and took his hand to shake it then he sat back down. “And my job changes depending on the week.”

You bobbed your head once with confused, narrowed eyes, “I, uh, I don’t know what that means.”

Bucky shook his own head, “Neither do we.”

“Well,” You took in a steadying breath, “Like I said before, my name is [Y/N]. And, I actually do have a steady paycheck.” You motioned to yourself. “I work for a modeling agency—”

“Whoa, whoa!” Peter threw his arms out to interrupt, “You’re a model??”

“Uh, no.” You chuckled awkwardly. “I’m more like a manager? Book gigs, manage contracts, help them on set…” There was a pause where they all just stared at you with blank looks. Peter was the only one actively gawking though. You filled the silence with the first thing your brain thought of, “It’s fun! My best friend from high school actually works there as a model so it’s a lot of us just…goofing off? Uh… I don’t have any pets—”

“Meeting!” Peter barked and stood up. He gave you a charismatic smile, “Just give us a couple minutes.” The others stood up with less enthusiasm and began to march out of the room, down the hall. Peter gave you a nod, briefly biting down on his lower lip, bounced his eyebrows up once, then winked at you, “Don’t miss me too much, alright baby?”

Bucky stopped at the mouth of the hall with a frown, and when Peter tried to walk into the hallway he threw his hand out to stop him. Peter complained as Bucky shoved him back then pointed to the short shelf sitting behind the couch. There was a glass jar sitting on it with a pink sticky note taped to the outside that read, ‘Douchebag Jar’ in messy handwriting.

“Jar. Now.”

“That wasn’t even so bad!” Peter argued before pulling a dollar bill out of his pocket and shoving it into the jar. The two of them left to wherever the other two had and suddenly you were left alone in the pretty apartment. Without the yelling boys, the loft became more and more tempting.

You drummed your fingers against your thighs nervously. This was a weird situation and at your age you weren’t really looking to live in a loft downtown with four strange men, emphasis on strange, but you didn’t really have another choice. Your job paid well, but you had lost a lot of money after buying a house with your long-term boyfriend. It seemed like a great idea at the time considering the two of you were coming up on three years together, but when you walked in on him making out with a girl sitting in his lap the great idea died really fast. You didn’t get that money back and honestly you didn’t even try to get possession of the house. You just wanted to be out of his life. Regardless of the cost.

Clint ‘hot mess’ Barton suddenly slid back into the room on his socks making you jump in surprise. He threw his hand out broadly as the others came in as well, “Welcome home, roomie!”

You jumped up in excitement, “Really? You guys aren’t going to regret this!”

#avengers #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes is nick miller #you can't convince me otherwise #sam wilson #clint barton #peter quill #reader #female reader #reader insert #modern au

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streets-in-paradise · 1 year

Text

I want to write an mcu reader insert that's gonna feel so circa 2013

#settled arround the dark world #reader is quill's sister in asgardian jail ( pre vol 1) for trying to steal some very valuable artifact #it's super 2013 #thor the dark world #gotg vol 1 #reader insert #thor x reader #loki x reader #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #peter quill

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grapefiesta · 10 months

Text

Favourite Terran

Rocket is an asshole and that's that... or is he?

pairings: Peter Quill x Reader (kind of?), Rocket x Reader

A/N: fuck it, its gn reader now and a cute Peter scene ig;;; again.. not proofread. Also this is the last rocket wip I had *thumbs up* idc if he's a racoon he's bby and deserves fanfics

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“How many times have I told you to stop messing with my blasters?!”

“And how many times have I ignored you? They make cool explosions! I ain’t gonna stop using ‘em!”!

“Rocket!!! You have your own blasters!” You snatched your blasters from his workbench.

“Hey, put them down!” He puts his hands on the blasters. “You can’t stop me from taking ‘em you know it. I’m the greatest Guardian of the Galaxy!"

“Let! Go! They’re mine, you stupid Racoon!” You pulled on the blasters to get them off of his grubby hands.

“Nuh-uh! I’m not letting go of them!” He starts doing the same, trying to pull them away from you. “I deserve these blasters more than you deserve them!"

“Rocket, I can’t fight without them! Stop tinkering with them and give me my fucking blasters back!” you pulled your arms up, and they pulled Rocket up into the air due to the height difference between Terrans and Racoons.

“Put me down right now, you annoying little Terran!” He starts kicking your leg in the hope of forcing you to let the blasters go.

“I'm way taller than you!” you argue and start shaking the blasters. ‘How am I going to make this rodent let go??’

A genius idea struck you at that thought. “Let go and you’ll be down!”

Rocket does as you told him, letting go of the blasters and falling to the ground. It was funny watching him scramble up with a sour look on his face. “Aw, come on, that was mean!”

You scoff. “you are mean.”

“I am?! How am I the mean one?!” He gets up completely now and looks at you. “You’re the one who snatched the blasters away from me after I’ve been playing with them!”

“Because they’re mine- you’re not supposed to- ugh whatever.” you turned on your heels and walked down the stairs towards your shared "room" with Groot.

“Fine! You can take your stupid blasters!” Rocket grumbles and goes off to his room to tinker with some of his gadgets.

You put your blasters down in the room and then go up to the cockpit and sit down on a chair next to Peter.

Peter turns towards you. “Everything ok, Y/N?”

You shrug. “Just rocket being a little asshole again.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” He chuckles a little. “So what was it about this time? Stealing your blasters to make some more stupid, loud, explosion-filled toys?”

You also chuckle. “Whoa, how’d you know?”

“Call it a wild guess.” He shrugs. “He’s always pulling stupid pranks and doing stupid things like that, but I guess that’s kinda his charm.”

You groan and stretch across the seat.

Peter sighs. “I guess you two will have to sort out your differences by yourselves because there ain’t no way that I’m getting in the midst of your little arguments.” He chuckles.

“Wouldn’t know how. He loves annoying the shit out of me.” you sigh. “At least I’ve got you. We Terrans have to stick together!” you put a fist on your chest and knock on it before giving Peter a peace sign.

Peter chuckles. “You got that right. Terrans together!” He returns the gesture.

You giggle a bit too loud after a few jokes. “Ssshh shhh Peter be quiet!” you try to whisper between the laughs.

Peter keeps quiet and nods his head, trying to stifle his laughter. You need to be careful with your volume, because the night is silent, and people are trying to get some rest.

You hear Rocket yell at you from across the ship. You put a hand on your mouth and desperately try to stifle your laughter. “He’s so- he’s so angry pfft.”

Peter chuckles before suddenly covering his mouth before he bursts out laughing. He slowly pulls his hand down and looks at you with a wide, amused gaze. “Guess someone’s having a hard time keeping their temper in control.”

“Ok, ok, ok, we should go sleep now. Or else we’ll wake everyone up with our laughter and Rockets yelling.”

Peter nods and gets up. “Good point.”

He turns towards you. “But before I head off to bed, I want to thank you for making me laugh. I really needed that.”

“Yeah? Well..” you look away a bit with pink cheeks and a smile. “You’re welcome.. us Terrans stick together, you know?” you look back up at him.

Peter smiles at your comment and nods. “Of course. We always have each other’s backs on the whole ride. Can’t leave anyone behind.” He looks at you for a moment before adding. “And I know that I can rely on you if I ever need you.”

you nod and keep staring at him. “Yeah.. me too."

Peter notices you staring at him. “Do you want anything else, Y/N?” He chuckles. “Or do you just want to stare at a boring ol’ human like me?”

You giggle a bit. “Hey, I’m a boring ol’ human as well!” you step a bit closer to him. “Just wanted to.. to properly say goodnight.”

Peter chuckles and steps a bit closer to you as well. “In that case…” He reaches out and touches your cheek. “Goodnight.”

Your face starts to flush furiously and you look at his face with wide eyes. You hope no one else saw this. Especially Rocket since he’s apparently still awake. “I- goodnight Peter.” You hugged him quickly and hid your face in his chest.

Peter wraps his arms around you and smiles at the hug, which was unexpected to him, but made him happy nonetheless. “Sleep well,” he whispers in your ear.

Before you could react, he lets go of you and turns to go back to his bedroom.

You nodded and turned around to walk to your room only to bump into a Rocket on the way. You stared at him. “Oh- uh-“

Rocket looks at you with an amused grin on his furry face. “Sooo, what’s up? And why do I feel like it has something to do with Peter?” He says while leaning on one of the walls in the corridor.

“No way.” You started to walk towards your room again.

Rocket watches you as you go back to your room. “No way what? Could you please elaborate, because I think I saw what I saw.” He chuckles and raises one of his eyebrows.

You turn around really quickly. It’s almost as if you were going to snap your neck. “You saw what?!” You were starting to break into a nervous sweat.

“I saw you hugging him before you two went to your rooms.” Rocket chuckles and wags his tail. “He looks like a good-looking fella. You sure you didn’t catch feelings?” He says with a smirk.

You shake your head. “No, no, no. That’s just a normal Terran way to say goodnight! He’s just a close friend.” 'fuck. That's embarrassing.' You didn't like Peter in that way, but you couldn't deny that he was an attractive Person. Plus, he was the only other human around here.

Rocket laughs. “Normal way for you Terrans to say goodnight? That’s strange.” He pauses for a second and then chuckles. “Whatever the case, you better be telling me the truth. I’d be devastated if you hooked up with Peter.” He winks, trying to tease you.

'wait what?' “What?” You speak your thoughts out loud.

“If Peter and you ever end up together in a romantic relationship… I think I’d be very sad.” He leans closer to you and drops his voice. “Is that what you want to do?” The raccoon asks, his voice sounding like he’s trying to tease you again. He tries to maintain a serious face but finds it hard not to burst out laughing.

“Wait.. really?” Then you notice the tone in his voice. “Oh fucking hell!” You turned around again, annoyed.

Rocket can’t help but burst out laughing, amused by your reaction “Hah! You thought I was serious about it, huh? Look at your face!”

“You’re an asshole. I was just about to start thinking that you actually like me.”

“Like you in what way? Do you want me to like you in a different way?”

“Just like me in General.” You didn't turn around.

This seems to confuse Rocket. “I do like you. You’re a good Ter- err, Human,” he says as he corrects himself.

You sigh and turn around to face him. “Well you’re always such an ass to me and I know you do that to everyone but you seem to just like to annoy me an extra bit.”

“Is that what you’re trying to get at?” Rocket raises an eyebrow and scratches behind his ears, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “I do annoy you a bit more than anyone else on the ship. Guess that’s just my way of showing who my favourite Terran is,” he says with a mischievous smirk.

“Huh…” you think for a bit. “Wait! I thought Peter was your favourite! He’s your best friend!!”

“Peter is my best friend, but you are my favourite Terran!” He chuckles. “What? You don’t like being favoured over the others?”

“Oh… Oh!” You try to not look embarrassed but fail miserably as your cheeks feel a bit warmer.

“It seems you’re having trouble accepting it.” Rocket smiles at you, amused at your reaction. “Do you like being my favourite Terran?” His face looks curious in an inquisitive way, waiting to listen to your response.

“I mean I don’t hate that idea..” you mumble and start to walk towards your room again.

“Ahhh, so we’re going that way.” He chuckles. He leans slightly closer to you. “You better appreciate this special treatment then, favourite Terran. You’ve got to make it up to me one way or another,” he says, his voice sounding like he’s trying to flirt with you.

You let out a short squeal and pushed his face away with your palm. “Go to sleep.”

He lets out a sigh. “Fine.” He doesn’t make any more attempts to flirt with you and heads back to his room, mumbling to himself.

“I’ll get them next time… next time…” He whispers before turning into his room and closing the door behind him.

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#rocket racoon #rocket racoon x reader #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #gotg vol 2 #wholesome #idk man #reader insert #oneshot #rocket x you #fluff #gotg game #rocket gotg #rocket raccoon #peter quill #gender neutral reader #gn reader #x reader

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itsscromp · 7 months

Note

Imagine Peter Quill from the Edios game having to deal with a rebellious teenager from Earth who says his references are outdated and dumb-

It came to me in a vision.

Peter Quill/ Star-lord (Eidos) x reader

Oh... My... God anon, I love this to the absolute death, This is the best idea of this month already. This game means a lot to me as it impacted my 2022 in the most positive way possible, Shout out to the star lord actor Jon Mclaren who did amazing with this, If you wanna see him he does Twitch streams too here but for now enjoy the story :D. Word count:854

Being the newest member of the Guardians of the Galaxy was already tough enough, but being from Earth in a new setting was even more daunting for a kid. You were only 8 when you were kidnapped from Earth. Peter found you and took you in when you were 15, You were a bit of a rebellious teenager when you joined as well. Forming a friendship with Rocket as well, causing as much mischief as possible on the ship.

But one thing that kind of irritated you was Peter's constant pop culture references. He never fails to make at least one reference of any movie, game or song he knows.

"We're gonna need a bigger boat." He said as he saw fing fang foom in person.

"Really Pete, jaws ??" You grumbled at him in annoyance.

It went on and on and on, You almost retaliated in every way to try and get him to stop. But today was one of your outbursts.

You were helping rocket build one of his latest machines, Peter managed to walk by and see what you were doing.

"Wow, nice gizmo's you two. I do hope though that it doesn't go back in time to kill me" He smirked.

"Quill ya know I don't get those references of yours." Rocket said annoyingly.

"Yeah, Pete honestly they're outdated and dumb. Keep up with the times." You said without even looking at him.

He looked at you with such shock in his eyes, his references, outdated ?? no no no.

"What, My references are not outdated and dumb, They stand the test of time almost every single day"

"Yeah but doesn't mean you get to do it almost every single day !!!"

He was pretty shocked about your yelling, over something so small.

"Ok ok, I'll cut back on the references alright" He tried to calm you down.

"Yeah sure the last time you promised that it only lasted an hour, Pete just stop it ok !!!" You bolted off to your room and locked the door.

"Great, two moody humies on the ship" Rocket snorted as he went back to work.

Peter was at a loss for words about what he witnessed, You called his references outdated. This caused him to feel a little flat all week, You noticed this as he wasn't as chirpy as he used to be. He was just the strict leader.

Maybe you went a bit too far, so when he was on rotation one night, you got out of your room and went to the cockpit of the ship.

"Hey, Pete..." You softly greeted.

"Hey kiddo, You should be in bed"

"I know, but I wanted to talk to you."

You then went to your seat and turned to him, With an almost worried look on your face.

"What's wrong Pete ??"

He went a little bit quiet, as if almost not choosing to answer you, you turned around and stared out into the cosmos before he finally spoke up again.

"Do you ever consider... That these things may be the only things that remind you of home ??" He said as you turned around.

"These things that remind you of your past life when your lost in an unfamiliar place, where your scared. These reminders make you feel safe and happy... That's why I keep talking about my movies and games and music, That's why I keep referencing them." He said sadly.

You rubbed your face, feeling the guilt of yelling at him climb up on you. You too had things that made you feel happy and safe.

"Pete... I'm sorry"

"It's fine y/n..."

"No, It's not fine. I get where you're coming from. I too feel safe and happy when I think about things that make me happy." You said as tears started to swell in your eyes. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have yelled at you or called your references dumb and outdated. My mind has been going through a lot and I don't know why I took it out on you. Please, Pete... I'm so sorry"

Peter looked at you sadly and stood up from his seat, gently walking over to you and wrapping your arms around you tightly. "It's ok kiddo... I forgive you" He said softly smiling.

The guilt lifted off your chest as you let out a shaky deep sigh. Your best friend forgave you, But you wanted to make it right with him.

"Pete... remember that device I found on Knowhere that had movies on it ??"

"Yeah, why ??"

"Well... I found the robocop movies on there. we have nothing to do tomorrow, wanna watch a marathon ??" You looked up at him, But from the way his smile widened, you felt happy yourself.

"Dead or alive your coming with me" He did his best robocop voice and ruffled your hair. "Of course I'm in"

You giggled as you fixed your hair. After the whole situation, you've grown to love Peter's references. He always knew how to make it... Well him But you wouldn't change peter at all for the entire galaxy. Not one bit.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

#platonic #reader insert #peter quill x reader #peter quill #star lord x reader #star lord #guardians of the galaxy imagine #gotg game

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coffeeandbatboys · 2 years

Text

Losing You \\ Peter Quill x Reader

Summary: Reader is Quill's ex. Said reader goes after another, abusive ex, and gets hurt badly.

^ gif is not mine, I got it off of google.

Warnings: mentions of death, attempted murder, abuse, blood, mild language. Angst. Also fluffy ending.

A/N: I wrote this for a challenge that @make-me-imagine started and used two of the provided prompts, highlighted in bold. Hope you like it!

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Peter had only actually been scared a few times in his life. Once was the last time he saw his dying mother. And when he got abducted.

It was safe to say, now was one of those times.

You'd gone out on your own, risking your life to finish a job that no one else could. It had to do with your Ex. Hell, the entire situation about to unfold had to do with your exes.

You weren't a murderer. But this man had to be stopped before he did those unimaginable things to anyone else. He'd beat you. Tortured you. Threatened you. And you stayed for it? There must've been something wrong with your head.

Fear.

You stayed because of fear.

You mentally beat yourself up for not staying with Peter. Sure, he was arrogant and a bit greedy, but that was 26 years of the Ravagers coming through. Yet, underneath all of that was a heart of gold. A man who protected you at all costs. You wished he was here right now, to hold you, tell you he loved you.

Because he still did.

And you were sure you did too.

Covered in blood and bruises, you slumped down in the alleyway. You hadn't killed your ex. You couldn't bring yourself to do it, and that came with consequences. Your ears began ringing and vision blurred, yet you could tell someone was crouched next to you. Faintly through the persistent static ringing, you heard a voice calling your name. A familiar voice. It wasn't long before two arms clad in red leather wrapped around you, a hand cradling the back of your head. You felt a sense of safety, and succumbed to darkness.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Wake up. You have to wake up. Please. For me. God knows I still love you y/n."

Your eyes felt heavy as you struggled to open them. You were laying on something soft. Odd, since the last thing you remembered was being in an alleyway. Then the voice. You replayed the words that had just been spoken to you and realized who that voice was.

Jolting awake, the first person you saw was your other, definitely much sweeter ex, Peter Quill. Then you realized what had happened. By chance, he'd found you and carried you back to his ship. Looking around, you recognized his room.

"Oh, um....hi. I'm glad you're awake." He said, as if he hasn't just confessed he still loved you. Had you just imagined that?

You tried to say something, but the weight of all your mistakes -leaving Peter, going after your other ex- came crashing down on you, and you burst into tears. Within seconds he had moved towards you, wrapping you in the same embrace as earlier.

"Shhh, baby. I'm not gonna let anyone else hurt you." He whispered, hand rubbing circles on your back.

You hadn't imagined it.

Pulling back to look at his face, you saw his terrified look, realizing what he'd just said.

But he hadn't finished the thought when your lips found his. He didn't hesitate at the sudden kiss, instead he pulled you in closer. You broke the kiss and rested your forehead against his.

"Peter, how did you find me?" You asked, mind racing back to that night. You'd just been thinking of him.

"I don't know- I just, walked by and, saw you there."

"I didn't believe in soulmates until I met you."

"What?"

"Before, I was thinking of how stupid I was, leaving you. And then you were there..."

He didn't say anything, instead, pulling you closer. You realized that he'd cleaned your wounds and dressed the larger ones. Another reason you shouldn't have left him.

"Join the Guardians again, y/n. Come with me."

You didn't even have to think.

"Yes. God yes."

*********************

Ok so this one is very dark and angsty.

Not what I expected.

#peter quill #star lord #Peter quill x reader #star lord x reader #marvel mcu #Guardians of the galaxy #Reader insert #peter quill x y/n #Star lord x y/n #writing challenge #Meraswritingchallenge #anniversary event

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hrefna-the-raven · 1 year

Text

Knowhere

Masterlist

Words: 848

Summary: The Guardians of the Galaxy search for spare parts on Knowhere to fix the Milano, when a series of weird events unfolds and Peter meets someone else from Earth.

The Guardians of the Galaxy were on a stroll through the bustling streets of Knowhere when they suddenly saw a pair of grumpy looking Ravagers strolling towards them. Peter, or rather Star-Lord as he proudly proclaimed, was leading the group in search for Cosmo. One of the Ravagers, a big brutish looking fellow with a shriveled face and a long strain of black hair at the top of his scarred skull, shoved Peter to the side, making everyone stop in their tracks.

"Ey earthling, are you the Star Born?", the Ravager grumbled, his eyes fixed on Peter's face as he snarled.

Peter was taken aback by the question, his pride scratched at the thought of one of Yondu's man miscalling him, Yondu's former favourite, but he quickly regained his composure. He had been a part of the Ravagers for many years, and it would come in handy, knowing how to handle tricky situations with morons like this. With a flick of his wrist, he pushed the Ravager's hand away and straightened his deep red leather jacket.

"Star Lord!", he huffed, "I thought you guys would at least know my name!"

“The boss told us it's a woman, you idiot!”, the other Ravager yelled and signaled his companion to move along, both of them trotting away, their heads hung low in annoyance.

The Guardians of the Galaxy were left standing there, looking at each other in confused amusement. Gamora was the first to speak up.

"What just happened? How could they mistake you, oh great Star Lord, for someone else?", she giggled mockingly.

Peter shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes. He knew she was just teasing him but a small part of him deep down still felt hurt.

"I have no idea. Maybe he's been living under a rock or something." Rocket interjected, "I wouldn't be surprised if they were all living under a rock. These Ravagers don't seem to know much about anything. I mean look at Quill", he guffawed, not even trying to hide his amusement at the sight Peter's grievously offended expression.

"Perhaps they were testing their knowledge of the names of the Guardians of the Galaxy.", Drax chimed in, “it is always remarkable to test your skills and knowledge alike as a warrior.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

"Testing their knowledge? Really Drax? Besides, everyone should know I'm the Star Lord. Guys we saved this galaxy, why does know one remember our names?”, he threw his arms up, looking at the others.

“I am Groot”, the tree spoke, glancing at Rocket.

“Groot says “talk for yourself, everyone knows my name”, the racoon crossed his arms, winking.

“I bet that is not what Groot said!”, Peter almost yelled, wondering how that little trash panda always managed his way crawling under his skin as soon as he opened his trap.

The group laughed as they continued their journey through Knowhere, leaving the Ravagers behind them. But as they walked, Peter couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he had answered differently. Who was this Star Born that the Ravager was talking about, and why was he mistaken for him? Could it truly be someone else from earth. And they mentioned a...woman. Peter shuddered at the thought that a possibly good looking woman from earth might be walking around on the same spot in the endless universe as him in this very moment. He didn't know anything about her, not even if she's even real but he would definitely try and find her, and may it only to find someone who'd finally understand his references.

“Pyotr Quill, also named Star Lord,” a rough voice with a heavy Russian accent popped up in his mind as a golden retriever in an old Soviet spacesuit ran towards them, “Cosmo heard Star Lord thinking to Continuum Cortex”, he panted, wiggling his tail happily, “and Cosmo heard pesky raccoon's thought about broken ship.”

“Hey Cosmo, yeah sorry we jus-”

“No need to speak Pyotr Quill, Cosmo can read mind. Follow Cosmo, he knows where you can get spare parts for ship”, the dog interrupted Peter, turning around and ran off down the street.

Quill had seen his fair share of weird things in the galaxy, but a telepathically talking dog from the Soviet Union that could read minds was something else entirely. Despite coming from the same planet, the dog had little understanding of Peter's references but he liked him anyway. The friendly mutt spread warm feeling of home and kindled fond memories of his childhood, a rare occurrence here far out in the depths of space. Without any hesitation, Cosmo led them to a shabby metal hut three blocks away, well hidden behind one of the last corners of an empty street. The Guardians followed the talking dog, trying to keep up with his fast pace.

"Tell mechanic that Cosmo sent you and don't break anything.", the dog gnarled at Peter before disappearing around the next corner.

But as they entered the hut, they were greeted by the sight of dozens of machines whirring and buzzing away while some oddly familiar yet unknown tunes echoed from what looked suspiciously like an old earth radio.

Chapter 2

#guardians of the galaxy #gotg #peter quill #star lord #peter quill x reader #star lord x reader #x reader #reader insert #female reader #cosmo the space dog #cosmo #gamora #rocket raccoon #drax the destroyer #groot #knowhere #possible slow burn #peter meets someone else from earth #star born

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