#starlord x y/n

[bruisedboys]

star tripping — “what aren’t you telling me” with peter quill! i’ll literally swoon just thinking about it

omg sorry this is so so late I’m embarrassed </3 but anyway, I am an absolute swooning mess rn omg. I want him so bad!!! thank you for the req roma ily <33 also sorry this is so mini :(

peter quill x gn!reader

Peter stands over you and you try not to faint. You know you’ve been caught and there’s nothing you can do about it. His hand finds your jaw and he tilts you up to look at him. He’s really pretty. His eyes are deep brown and set, almost intimidating in the way he’s looking at you. His hair is getting too long, pretty curls curving around his ears and over the back of his neck. You yearn to run your fingers through it.

“You’re kinda scarin’ me being so quiet, sweetheart,” He tells you, voice low and quiet. He’s worried, you realise. There’s a hint of it in his eyes, his frown. “What aren’t you telling me?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You’ve been trying to tell him you like him for weeks. Every time you get close you chicken out. He’s Peter Quill. He can do better than you, you’re always telling yourself. But then, why has he sought you out in the back room of his ship where you often resort yourself to? Why does he look so desperately concerned? And why on earth is he looking at you like he wants to kiss you?

“Um…” you say. Your mouth is dry as sandpaper. You lick your lips and don’t notice him staring at them. “I don’t— it’s nothing, Peter.”

Peter raises his eyebrows. “Nothing?”

Somehow in the past two seconds his face has gotten considerably closer. He’s so close now you could count his eyelashes. You take a shuddering breath.

“I—um…”

You trail off uselessly. You can’t breathe. You can’t think straight with him so close and you’re pretty sure he knows it. He smiles at you.

“Hey, that’s okay, sweetheart,” he says. “You don’t have to tell me, I can wait.”

You think you’ve been let off the hook, but then, slowly, his smile changes from kind to knowing, a quirk of his lips as he adds, “But would you like a kiss?”

You can’t speak. You merely nod and a moment later Peter’s lips are on yours. He’s earnest but gentle and you kiss back as best you can with your heart pounding so loud in your ears and Peter’s hands on your face, your shoulders, your neck. Peter’s smile grows against your mouth and you know at that moment, that all of the worrying was fruitless — he’d known this whole time and let you suffer.

You’ll get him back somehow.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

wait damn it i dont think i was anon making that request so HIYA AGAIN 💀💀 (basically this is just restating my request)

foaming at the mouth for peter quill (per usual) so this is a peter req! so maybe smthn abt reader stealing his shirt/s like hes trying to find one and hes like okay where did all my shirts go and then he sees reader all comfy in his shirt and he just MELTS 🥰

Hopefully you can do this soon, ur like famous so u have like 1000 requests LMAO have a great rest of your week/end!

-🪐

hii again🪐!! and dw you were anon for that request😭😭 this is so stinking cute! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 have a great rest of you week too<3 also wanna know something funny? I have 2 of his tshirts, he left them at mine ;)

sharing is caring

Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 0.8k

warnings || none just fluff

masterlist + rules

taglist

There are many great attributes about Quill, and sometimes there are too many to list. But one thing in particular, is his style. Despite his knack for good music and food, there's just something about his clothes that often made you gawk. 

Over the years, Peter has acquired quite the collection of fun and funky t-shirts, most of them bought on various planets as souvenirs after a mission or even as little gifts from you. 

Quill has so many tops that he couldn't possibly have use for every single one, so more often than not, you'd find yourself riffling through his drawers to steal one or five of his t-shirts. His clothes always smell so comforting and homely that you couldn't stop yourself from stealing, even if you wanted to. Your favourite shirts of his are from his slightly chubbier days. They'd feel so soft and comfortable against your skin that you'd often wear them day and night. The bigger the top, the more loved it felt. But you weren't being picky because you loved literally anything he wore. He could wear a trash bag, and as long as it smelt like him, you'd wear that trash bag too.

So today, like any other day, instead of picking your clothes from your side of the closet, you scrounge over to his side, flicking through the hangers to see what you want to wear. 'Happening' upon his grey, long sleeve with white writing, you quickly remove his other t-shirt you were wearing, flinging it across the room into the dirty pile before dressing yourself. Slipping on a pair of joggers, you make your way to the living room, plopping yourself down on the sofa, and wrapping a fluffy blanket over you.

A few short minutes later, Peter is standing in the doorway with a towel draped over his lower half, tiny beads of water covering his chest. "Ahem," he says quietly, a sly smirk on his lips. "Uh- why can't I find any of my clothes?" he asks, sounding like he already knew the answer.

"Maybe they're in the dirty pile," you playfully lie with a deadpan expression, avoiding his gaze. "We haven't done any laundry in a little while. I'm sure there's stuff in there,"

"Hm, okay, right. But the thing is, I was sorta planning on wearing this one top today," sheepishly smiling, ruffling through his wet curls. "Don't suppose you've seen a grey long-sleeve?"

"Nope, haven't seen it," you coyly grin, bringing the blanket to your neck, covering the evidence.

"Yeah?" he hums, making his way over to you. "You sure you haven't seen it?" 

"Nope," you repeat, shaking your head. 

"So if I just..." he says slowly, reaching for the blanket.

You copy him, reaching for his towel, playful eyes as you threaten to tug the fabric down. He looks down at you and shrugs. Grinning. "Do it. I don't care," 

"Okay, alright, fine. I'm wearing it," you cave, ripping away the blanket. "I couldn't help it," you bribe, sweet eyes dancing up at him. 

"How long you been stealing my clothes?" he asks, his tone full of warmth, chuckling.

"Not long," you lie. "But I really can't help it, okay, Pete? It's a problem. I can't stop myself," you say playfully, brushing over your arms as if to show your comfort. "See?"

He stares down at you, his eyes full of admiration. "Yeah? That why I have no clothes left?"

"You have tonnes of clothes. You have so many you didn't even realise they were missing," you say impishly, eyebrows quirking. "They just smell like you," you shrug, a sweet smile on your lips. "You're not mad?"

Shaking his head. "Nah, they look better on you anyway," he grins. "But, have you seen that dark blue one? The one with uh-- the um, light blue circle smile face thing?"

"Maybe... sorry. I wore that the other week," you playfully frown. "But it's clean," you bribe. "I washed it right after. It should be in that pile over there," Pointing.

"Mhmm," he says with squinted eyes and a grin.

He returns half-dressed with the t-shirt in hand, swinging it as he makes his way back to you. "I wanna wear that one," pointing to you. "I wanna smell you," he says quietly, practically inaudible.

"What?" you grin, only hearing fragments. 

"I wanna smell you, now give it," he repeats loud enough for you to hear, his fingers grabbing towards you. "I’m getting cold— look my nipples could cut glass, hurry,"

"But it smells like you," 

He boyishly grins as if he's thought of an idea. He puts on the blue top, rubbing over the fabric as if to transfer his scent before removing it and handing it to you. "Better?"

Sitting up with a smile, you undress from the top, putting on the new one as Peter did the same. He plops down beside you, draping his arm over your shoulder. "You do look cute in my clothes," he grins, kissing your temple.

@annielr @ugh09876554444 @spacetalbot @bubblezuku @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser

[extra-unknown-nation]

'He Likes You'

Peter Quill x Male!Reader Word Count: 0.9k

Summary: After you had a bad day, Peter comes to check on you, for reasons he keeps hidden.

A/N: Just got back from seeing GOTG3 and needed to write about this man asap! This is pretty short but, hope you like! (Also I don't own this GIF)

You were sat comfortably outside the bar, drinking away at the weird beverage you had taken from the fridge just inside. It's strange, texture made you shiver but brought you slight relief after just getting done helping Nebula with supplies. She was tough to read, and quite harsh with her words; as if the day hadn't been awful already, Nebula treating you like an after thought made it worse.

Sighing you take another swing of your drink, placing it just beside your hips as you gaze around. As per usual Knowhere was busy, with people going about their duties to keep the place bustling, some like you, were just relaxing and enjoying their day. Well, you tried to at least but things just weren't working out for you.

You thought hard, a little too hard about your worth, feeling as though you didn't belong there, that is until you were startled by a hand grasping at your shoulder. Looking up, you make eye contact with the man; your eyes widening as you realized it was Peter.

"Hey," he says, his voice low and causing a shiver to run up your spine.

You quickly stand up, gripping your bottle and wiping away the frown on your face, "Hey Pete, what's up?"

"Nothing, just checking in on you," he replies, watching as your shoulders tense up. "Heard about how you stormed off from the lift off zone, I just....wanna make sure you're good."

A scoff escaped your lips as you look down at your half empty bottle, Peter's concern for you always seemed to bring you some warmth in times of distress. Even as something as small as this, you couldn't help smirking, "Yeah, got scolded by one of your friends is all."

His brow rose, "Wait who, was it Nebula?"

You nodded, pursing your lips in shame.

"Sorry about her, she's been rough on everyone today. I can go talk to her, I think she's still at the ship." Peter begins to ramble, taking a few steps back as if he would go to retrieve her.

You didn't want him to go though, "Peter..."

He didn't listen, continuing to speak, "I promise you by the next few days she'll be-." Peter suddenly stopped as he felt your hands wrap comfortably around his wrist; preventing him from stepping away.

You both exchanged looks, your eyes filled with a need for him to stay while his brighten at the feeling of your hand around his.

You quickly noticed yourself lingering too long with his hand, pulling back before quickly apologizing.

Peter shook his head, "It's fine." Deep down though it wasn't, he wanted you to touch him again just like that, to feel the butterflies he'd get all the times you two would accidentally brush up against each other. Just thinking about it made his stomach flutter.

"Umm..." is all you could mutter, as the two of you remained awkwardly looking at each other; waiting for the other to say something to break the silence.

Luckily there was someone, somebody that wasn't even apart of the conversation, Drax.

"Kiss him, Quill." The deep, burly voice cause you two to snap your gazes to the side, where Drax was nonchalantly staring at you both.

"Drax! Why are you not at the ship with the others?"

Drax explains, "I got bored, and plus Mantis told me to follow you just in case you finally reveal how much you like-"

Peter chimes in before Drax could finish, "No, no, no, no, okay. I need you to help unpack things with Mantis on the ship alright? You're the strongest on the team, she can't do all the work alone."

"You gonna tell him first?"

"Tell me what?" You questioned.

"He likes you."

"Drax!"

"What it's true?!"

Peter rolls his eyes, "Oh my...Drax get back to the ship, now!"

Drax listens this time watching your surprised expression as he began to walk away, turning occasionally to see if Peter would make any moves.

As he disappeared behind a building, Peter turns back to you, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry about him, he's a-little...you know," Peter drew circles around the side of his head, indicating Drax's stupidity.

You played along with Peter, trying to hide your smile, "No I get it."

Peter scoffed, "I should probably make sure my team isn't causing a ruckus, huh?"

Although you didn't want him to leave, at least this time he had a better reason to do so. You nodded, your lips twitching at Drax's previous remarks. 'He likes you'. Was that honestly the truth? You liked Peter, but you weren't sure if he had similar feelings, not until now. His defensive comments, and his friends ratting him out proved he was interested in you.

"Can I...get a hug first,” he asked, his face expressing fear of denial. You weren't the kind of person to harshly turn down something, but the thought still crossed Quill's mind.

You shrugged, willing to take up his offer. You closed the gap between him, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, carefully to prevent the glass in your hand from hitting his head. Peter pulls you in, his hands resting in the small of your back.

He was so warm, you could just sink into his embrace and never wanna let up. You wished the two of you could just be still, and enjoy each others company for as long as possible. The thought of having to let go, to let yourself be release from his grasp was something you tried blocking out.

For now, you would appreciate the moment, knowing that things between the two of you would likely to shift going forward.

[fooled-around-and-fell]

A Call Home

Summary: Peter went back to see his grandpa, leaving you in Knowhere. Out of a sudden, your intergalactic pager beeps. Earth's in trouble.

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Peter Quill x female reader

Tag: @nix-rose-q

Warning: kissing, cursing

Masterlist

Peter did stay in touch. For a while.

You caught up with each other every week, and then things got busy.

Once every two weeks.

Once a month.

Then he didn't call back.

Three months after that, he apologized for not staying in touch. Things got busy on his end. You both promised to talk soon.

One year later... radio silence.

You figured he must be enjoying his life back with his grandpa, so you didn't try to reach out to him anymore as to not bother him.

It didn't go unnoticed by the team -- your sudden silence, your absence. You didn't go day drinking like Peter did, but they knew something was bothering you.

"There you are."

You heard Rocket on the rooftop where you were sitting.

"Mind if I join you?"

"By all means."

He sat next to you, joining you in enjoying the view.

Knowhere was doing so well under Nebula's care. She's attentive, caring, no issue you have will go unnoticed by her.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine, Rocket."

"You always say that, but you don't really mean it."

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. "I will be fine."

"Yeah, well," Rocket sighed. "We're here for you. Quill leaving was definitely unexpected, and I know how much he means to you."

You glanced at him.

"Oh come on," He chuckled. "You were so obvious. I'm surprised Quill didn't pick it up himself."

A blush spread across your cheeks. "Are you here just to tease me, or?"

"Relax, relax, no need to get defensive." He smirked. "Just thought you might like some company."

Out of nowhere, your pager beeped. It was the pager Nat gave you before she passed. It hasn't beeped ever since you last visited -- since Thanos.

"Looks like you're going home." Rocket said. "Better take Milano 2.0. Say hi to Quill for me, and tell him to call us. We miss him around here."

You sighed. "This can't be good."

Milano 2.0 was something you and Peter built together. The original Milano was sort of destroyed after a battle, so 2.0 was a small project you both did -- an attempt to save as much of it as possible.

You and Peter first met when he saved you from an explosion at a nearby planet. It was anything but romantic. You were trying to steal something, and Peter was trying to stop you from stealing it.

Then he realized you were also human -- the only other human he's ever met out in space. So he decided to help you with your job, and you both became friends.

If only Peter knew that was also when you started having a crush on him.

Peter looked out the window to the sky above. For a second there he thought he saw a shooting star, but it must've been in his head.

"4 down. 9 letter word. Starts with G, is a protector or a defender." Jason said, wanting Peter to help him with his crossword.

"Guardians." Peter said, his lips playing a longing smile.

Jason was beyond happy when Peter came home. It felt like his life was finally complete, everything was right again. But he also knew that Peter grew up not on Earth -- it was confusing to him at first, all of this.. space work Peter rambled about, but once he mentioned his friends Rocket, Nebula, Drax, Mantis, Groot, and you? He understood immediately. Albeit the weird names, you were his family just as much as Peter was his. And he knew Peter missed you.

"Peter, talk to me." Jason put his newspaper down.

Peter sighed. "This past.. what, year and a half? Has been amazing. Being home feels so good after all the stress I've been through. But.."

"But you need to go back out there."

Peter looked surprised. "How did you know?"

"Pete," Jason chuckled. "You don't have friends here. And every time you talk about your friends, I can feel how much you miss them. Do you even still talk to them?"

He sighed. "I.. have been avoiding their calls, actually."

"Now why would you do that?"

"I just-" He sighed again. "Every time I hear their voices, see their faces, I want to be there. But I know you need me here-"

"Whoa, whoa, Pete." Jason laughed. "I've been here for 38 years without you, I think I'll do fine."

"So you don't need me here?"

"Don't get me wrong, son, having you here has been amazing for me, too." Jason explained. "It's the best thing that happened to me. But you need to get a move on in your life, kid. Your future isn't here at home, mowing lawns and driving me to the hospital."

Peter chuckled. "Didn't know you still had one last lecture for me."

Jason laughed in return. "Don't tempt me, kid."

"Anyway," Jason continued, "Tell me about this girl you have a crush on."

"It's not a crush." Peter rolled his eyes. "She's just.. she's amazing."

Jason smiled as he listened to Peter talk about you. How you two met, how his world managed to light up whenever you're in the room, how you stood by him when everything crumbled down.. and how he possibly have broken your heart.

Peter was enjoying the last of his fries when there was a blast nearby. It was big enough to cause an earthquake, and Peter had to call the nurse to pick Jason up so he could check what's going on.

"Stay here, okay?! I need to go help as much as I can!" Peter yelled out before running towards the blast.

If it were any regular explosion, Peter would've ignored it. But he saw what could've been people flying, so it had got to be something serious.

When Peter got to the scene, he saw War Machine, Dr. Strange, and -- is that you??

"Y/n??" Peter yelled.

You diverted your attention for a second, before being hit by the octopus-like thing attacking you.

"Fuck!"

Peter ran and broke your fall, getting hurt in the process.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Get back!" You said, blasting your gun at the giant octopus.

"What the hell is that?!" Peter asked, taking cover behind you.

"I don't know, I'm just trying to kill it!" You ran behind a car. "Peter, you don't have a gun, get out of here. You're a civilian at this point."

"Then give me a gun!"

--

Turns out the big-ass octopus was sent by Wanda, who was hunting a girl named America Chavez to help her get her sons back. You didn't even know she had kids.

You were finally left alone with Peter, and decided to visit his house that was nearby.

The walk was absolutely silent. You didn't expect to meet Peter -- though you wanted to. And now that it happened, you don't know what to say to him. It's been a year since you last talked, and you were expecting he'd give some lame excuse to why he stopped calling.

"So," Peter started. "I know you're probably mad at me for going MIA."

You sighed.

"I think I'm ready to go home now."

Ignored.

"You know, I missed you. A lot."

When you didn't reply again, Peter stopped you from walking by standing in front of you. "Remember what you promised me?"

Your eyes shot up to look at him in disbelief. "You shut me out first. You stopped calling. You stopped answering my calls. You were the one who-"

Deep breaths.

"I get it, Peter." You said. "You're with family, you want to spend time with them. I don't blame you -- I know I shouldn't. But I'm just.. still pretty mad at you."

Peter clenched his jaw. He knew it was his fault. He reached to hold your hands and put them on his chest, right on his heart. You could feel his heart racing.

"Look at me." Peter said, lifting your chin. "Please."

Staring at pleading eyes, how could you stay mad at him? He looked like a lost, kicked puppy.

"That day I left," Peter said. "I knew what you wanted to say to me."

"What?"

"I knew- I know."

Your breath quickened. The day he left was the day you wanted to tell him you've been in love with him.

"I.." He held your waist gently. "I love you. I couldn't say it to you the first time because I was so messed up. I had unfinished inner issues that I had to resolve, and I.. I didn't want to drag you on, not knowing how I'd end up."

It felt like a panic attack, but in the best way possible.

You hadn't realized how long you stayed quiet, just looking at him and listening to his heart.

"Say something, please." Peter broke your trance.

"I.." You gulped. "Why- You- Oh fuck it-" You pulled Peter by his collar and kissed him.

Peter's hands immediately found the back of your neck and pulled you in closer, if that's even possible. You struggled to keep your composure. His hands clawed and grabbed your hips gently, but you knew the desperation was there. The need to be alone in a room and just fuck the shit out of each other -- you felt it too.

You broke the kiss to get some air, but Peter let out a small 'no' before pulling you back in.

It was hungrier, yearning for a taste of everything. It felt very, very hot. Peter's touch burned you and felt like it left marks. Your lips felt bruised and swollen, but fuck you couldn't get enough.

"Pete-"

He only hummed, lips still busy leaving kisses down your neck.

It felt like you were drunk, there was a coil in your stomach and it made you want to jump into his arms. If it weren't for his neighbor who yelled "get a room", you probably wouldn't have stopped.

You finally pushed him away before you got too dizzy and passed out. Peter chuckled and still managed to hold you close to him.

"I'll.. I'll go bring in the ship." You panted.

"Milano?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He smirked. "We can make even more new memories there."

.

.

.

a/n: I'm so thirsty.

[mindfulvenus]

starlord + lipstick

pairing. peter quill (starlord) x reader

song. your teeth in my neck by kali uchis

peter quill is a fiend for lipstick. there is just something about they way it accentuates your lips, as if you weren’t already eye-catching enough.

holding conversations with your lipstick-covered lips always felt distracting. instead of listening to the words leaving your mouth, he found himself watching the way your lips moved as you spoke. it only took a few sentences, then you notice his eyes drifting away from yours mid conversation.

“peter? did you even hear me?” you’re annoyed, he can tell by the way you purse your lips together and roll your eyes in a swift gesture.

“…uh…yeah?” he was caught in his mindless act, and the funny thing is he didn’t even notice himself doing it. i mean, it was you talking. that little pretty face of yours, and those lips that spoke to him wearing that shade of lipstick.

oh, how bad he just wanted to take hold of your gentle fingers and kiss you. he wanted your lipstick all over his face, down his neck, and on his sensitive collar bones. peter is a simple man, all he wants is your loving, lipstick-covered lips all over him.

snapping back out of though, he hears you nag him, “whatever, just pay attention,” and peter lets out a playful chuckle,

“don’t worry,” he gives a gentle shrug with his shoulders and walks closer to you. his right hand reaches towards your face and brushes the lower part of your cheek. his thumb is trailing to your lower lip, running across it slowly, back and forth. you’re growing a stupid smile now, and peter has your lipstick on his thumb.

with a love-sick heart, peter speaks, “i am,” reminding you gently that he listens to those lips;

“always.”

note. peter is such a himbo, lover, and an absolute fantasy.

[cxsmicbaby]

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. 

[hellboy-enthusiast]

I need more people to be in love with Yondu. I appreciate all the age gap fics, but we need the fics where Yondu and Y/N are a badass old couple :(( GIVE ME MY SASSY WIFE Y/N

[yanderemcu]

Yandere Peter Quill Alphabet

A=Affection (How do they show their love for you)

Very touchy and romantic

B=Bound (How much do they share with you)

Tells you everything

C=Cruel (How do they punish you)

Yelling,silent treatment, holding,force feeding, isolation, wraps around you

D=Desire (How long until they take you)

3 months

E=Even (To what level are they dominate)

Same level as you

F=Future (What are their future plans for the two of you)

Get married have a few kids

G=Gifts (What do they give you)

Clothes,jewelry, songs, headphones, food,sweets,stuff animals

H=Hell (Worst experience with them)

His punishments

I=Insane (How insane did they get because of you)

7/10

J=Jealous (How easily do they get jealous)

Drags you away

K=Killing (How do they handle killing)

Quick and swift

L=Language (What is their love language)

All of them

M=Manipulation (What could you do to get your way)

If your sweet to him or show him a bit of affection

N=No (To what strength would they go for you)

He'd do anything for you

O=Obsessed (How obsessed are they with you)

10/10

P=Pet names (What do they call you)

Princess,Love,my love,sweetheart, sweetie,darling,babe,baby,Hunny, my sweet,beautiful, cutie

Q=Quit (How would they act if you died)

Is very angry

R=Runaway (What are your chances to get away)

He promises you and himself he'll find you again

S=Stalking (How good are they at stalking you)

4/10

T=Type (What type of yandere are they)

Delusional,Obsessive, Possessive,Overprotective, Caring, Sweet, Clingy, Submissive

U=Unique (Different from other yanderes)

Doesn't want to hurt you

V=Vine (How they feel if you fought back)

Holds you until you calm down

W=Will (Would they do anything against their loves will)

No

X=Xray (How much do they keep hidden from you)

Nothing

Y=Yearning (How much do they want you)

8/10

Z=Zzz (How do you two fall asleep together)

Cuddles you tightly and closely

[fr3akingtf0utrn]

hey! could i req a peter quill x male reader smut with sub bottom peter? the plot (if you choose to add one) doesnt matter much, but id like a lot of begging/whimpering on peters part! and some reader praising peter:)

YES. And it took me a hella long time to think of a plot but gave up and went for it. And sorry I’m going to make this short but wit some detail.

Peter Quill x Male reader

Warnings: nsfw, bottom/sub Peter, dom/top reader

—————————

“Such a good boy, Peter..” you mumbled under your breath. Your eyes fluttered closed and let your head go down limp at the pleasure this man caused you.

The overwhelming sensation of heat between your guys’ close distant caused sweat to drip. Peter whined at one particularly hard thrust. You hips met his ass and thighs, holding him in a tight missionary position.

Peters knees nearly met his shoulders and his own face as you fucked him into the mattress. The only way he was holding it was your arms holding his legs back behind his knees giving you great access as you continued to push into him deep and fast

You know he can take it. You know how much he loved the burn.

His nails dug into your shoulder blades as yours gripped the mattress sheets. Your hamstrings burned but you kept going and going closer to the edge snapping your hips harder.

Peters groaned when your abdomen made contact with his tip and moved one of his hands to the back of your neck to pull you in.

Your lips clashed as you let his desperate neediness kick in. You let go after a moment, saliva disconnecting from your lips.

“mmm you like that don’t you, darling? How deep I’m getting from this position?” He whined into your mouth as you said that.

“I need an answer, Peter.” You state as your hips stutter to a stop, your knees dig into the mattress.

“Fuck, fuck please. I can’t. !” Peter cried out and clawed at your back. “Yes you can, say it and I’ll reward you,..” you rock back and then forth, slowly pushing in, getting deep enough to touch that bundle of nerves inside him. His legs shook.

“Yes! I love it so much! Please, y/n..” his back arched, contorting his body as well. You sit up setting his legs on your shoulders. Your hands grip into his waist and you growl.

“There you go, good boy.” Your thrusting continued at a fast past, his body slamming into yours, clapping sounds heard throughout the room.

Peter let out a loud moan, eyes rolling back. A breathy gasp escaped him as his body arched and shook, shooting all over your chest and himself. You continued chasing your orgasm as well and slammed into him.

“Fuck is’ too much, y/n-“

“You can take it—I know you can. You’re doing so good me, sugar,” You praised him between a staggered breath. You lick you top teeth and throw your head back, your eyebrows furrowing and your jaw went slack.

Your hips quicken and soon release with a guttural moan. The grip of your hands on his thighs soften but leave marks when you let go of them.

“fuck, such a good boy, you did so well..” you lean to him after slowly placing his legs down into the bed. “So, so, good,” you mumbled into his ear as you caressed his face and kissed his cheek.

Peters breathes evened out as you whispered sweet praises and hummed as replies.

You slowly get up to walk to the bathroom gathering a wet towel and water. Placing the water down on the bedside, you clean Peter up.

Wiping down his stained skin and drying the sweat off his face, along with yourself later on.

You place a pillow behind Peters hips to make him propped up so his lower back doesn’t ache when he lays curled into your side.

Laying your arm on his waist, you connect your forehead with his, closing your eyes. “I love you my starlord.”

[banc3]

Doctor Strange x apprentice! reader

TW: DEATH, SLIGHT DEPRESSION

Dark and light were at it once more. Both sides had their victory, but as much as they win, it was a costly price. Either came out withering or with lost. As he snapped his fingers together, hope, love, and emotions were gone. People that were loved were gone. Not forgotten, however. 

At the end of it all, the fallen souls had risen up again. And at that moment, they knew what lies ahead. What it all comes down to.

The fighting was ruthless. Not one thought in mind giving up hope. Most overcame the feeling of negativity, but that seems to come back up eventually. Where is she? Where is he? Where are they? Most pondered on these questions. It felt like it has been stuck on loop.

Starlord reunited with Gamora, Tony reunited with Spider-Man. However, all was left was Doctor Strange. Dr. Strange was left thinking of y/n. He saw how they were reunited, but how would they? Doctor Strange eventually was left alone to fend off the monsters that crept from every corner. And each time, he came out as the victor. As he finished off his last two, for a second, it was silent. Complete silence. Until he heard the sound of a twig snapping.

He quickly adverted his eyes, stance ready and all. But, he suddenly stopped. It was like he had seen a ghost. He thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him. What was in-front of him, was earthshaking….

It was y/n…

….

He didn’t know what to do, or even say. All that he thought was an apology and a hug. But as much as he wanted to hug you, he just couldn’t. He was frozen like a statue, not daring moving an inch. Y/n could see the looks in his eyes, and she couldn’t help but to giggle. She then started to move towards him, soon after, the walking turned into sprinting.( you were pretty far) 

Strange tried to get caught up on all of this, but was too shakin up. What got out of his trance, was the abrupt force that was on him. The force that’s hugging him and sobbing quietly into his chest, incoherent words to. Strange finally was caught up, and started to tear up as well. Both shared a tender moment, and both not wanting anything to ruin that.

[bruisedboys]

idk if this has been said/done before but thinking of you making pete q a mixtape as a surprise, hehehe. ily <3

omg he’d die for sure!!!! he loves music and he loves you so it’s like. the two thing he loves most in the world!!! you name it something goofy like my starlord and it’s supposed to make him laugh but it just makes him feel lovesick tbh 😭 the playlist is either made up of a bunch of love songs, sappy ones but good ones that remind you of him. or a playlist of like, songs you’ll know he like that he’s never heard before. or!! a bunch of makeout songs LMFAO. either way he loves it and keeps it on him at all times and never lets anyone but you touch it. it’s like his good luck charm. and you definitely make out to it too <3

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hey I'd really love it if you could write smth about like jealous!peter quill or just him being overly possessive like maybe like you're just friends at the moment and you guys are at this club and like idfk the avengers team could be there 😭😭 and one of them starts flirting with you abd you flirt back and shit ans just how u think peter would react- anything basically with him being just jealous and shit omg thankyou in advance 😭😭

hii!! omg I love it and had fun writing it!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 *I didn't mark it as mature, tumblr did :/ *

jealous

Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 0.7k

warnings || none, just quill being a lil jelly

masterlist + rules

taglist

After the Battle of Earth two years ago, you and the other Guardians remained quite good friends with the Avengers you had met. Every so often, you and the team would be invited to parties at their temporary compound. As it was such a long journey from Knowhere, you all tended to decline the invitations, much preferring to remain in the comfort of home rather than travel halfway across the galaxy. But, as it was coming up the anniversary, you felt as though you were obliged to make an appearance considering what you had all been through. 

-

Rocket lands the Bowie on the landing bay just outside, and you all stand from your seats, stretching your tired legs as you straighten over your clothes, preparing to exit the ship and join the rest of the party. You turn to Quill, sweetly smiling as you extend a hand, silently asking him to take it in his. He laces his hand into yours, firmly shaking as a boyish grin spreads across his lips. 

"No—" you sigh, pulling your hand from his. "You weren't supposed—ugh,"

"What was I supposed to do?" Peter questions, his tone full of sincerity as he watches you walk away with the girls.

"You were supposed to escort her off the ship, Pete," Rocket says flatly, walking past.

"I am Groot."

"I am not a moron." Quill protests. "Drax, you hearing this?"

"You are a moron Quill," he replies simply, following behind Rocket and Groot.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What is this? Gang up on Quill day? Look, I didn't know she wanted me to help her. I thought she wanted to shake my hand, that's all."

"Then go find her, idiot." Rocket adds, nodding Quill along.

Peter makes his way inside the compound to search for you, immediately bumping into people he doesn't recognise. "God, this music is awful," he mumbles, adjusting his jacket as he makes his way to the bar upstairs. Quill hears a familiar Asgardian bellow of a laugh as he walks up the steps, following the sound, he sees the back of Thor with his arm draped over the shoulder of a woman- a girl, Quill's 'girl'.

He rushes over, abruptly interrupting the conversation. 

"Oh hey, Quill," you say slyly, leaning into Thor as you bat your lashes at the clearly jealous-looking guy standing before you. 

"Good to see you," Thor greets, extending a hand. "Missed ya, buddy,"

Peter swats his hand away. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. What uh—what you doing?" he asks inconspicuously, gazing around the busy room with his hands on his hips. 

"He was just telling me a funny story," you pause to laugh, tapping Thor on the chest. "You should tell him. He'd love it."

As Thor described the humourous events of the story, you watched Peter's face begin to contort, barely keeping his composure, his nostrils practically flaring as he stared at your lingering hand. Keeping your eyes glued to Quill's, you taunt him further, lightly circling your hand over Thor's muscular arm as you engage in the conversation. 

"Tree?" Thor pauses the story as he catches a glimpse of Groot above the swarm of people. "One minute," he says, slipping from you. "I'll be right back."

"What the hell was that?" Quill whispers, his tone full of irritation. 

"What was what?" you ask, crossing your legs as you pat the now-empty space beside you, silently urging him to sit.

"You're such a dick," he chuckles, sitting close beside you, his hip pressed to yours as he drapes his arm over your shoulder.

"Yeah, well... so are you," you snicker, resting your hand on his thigh, slowly leaning into him. "God, this music is awful," 

"Right?"

You and Peter sit together in comfortable silence as you gaze around the room of unfamiliar people, watching the conversations play out as you snuggle into one another's side. Both of you avoiding the daunting question. The question of your undeclared situation.

"We really should mingle," you say begrudgingly, tapping him on the leg.

"Ugh," he groans, slipping from your warmth and standing up. He extends a hand, patiently waiting for you to take it. Lacing your hand in his, you shake it with a smug grin across your lips.

"What? I thought you wanted me to shake it," you laugh heartily, wrapping your arm around his side as he leads you through the crowd of people.

"You really are a dick."

@annielr @ugh09876554444 @spacetalbot @bubblezuku

[extra-unknown-nation]

To Love, and Live Again

Peter Quill x Male! Reader

Chapter 2 Is Now Available!

Tags: Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension

Summary: You are a servant working under Ego's wing for a few years. You wanted a way out, but could find no way that didn't result in him killing you. That is until the day Ego had located his son, Peter Quill, who also could harness his abilities. With that in mind, perhaps there was a way out, someone who could contend with a celestial. Hope was finally in sight, and Quill was the key.

Chapter Summary: With the guardians now set for departure with your group, bonds starts to form.

Feedback is always appreciated!

[fooled-around-and-fell]

Hey Stranger

Summary: You're trying to be there for Peter when he's grieving and trying to move on from Gamora, while having feelings for him yourself. Guess what? Gamora's back to help save Rocket, and things get complicated.

pairing: Peter Quill x female reader

a/n: he's so boyfriend I can't explain it. Also, I was listening to Baby Blue when writing this, I think it fits pretty well.

warning: GOTG3 spoilers, cursing

Masterlist

It started when a Adam Warlock, a Sovereign, came to take Rocket. After that, shit started happening, and a small reunion with Gamora ensued.

You were worried about Quill when you knew he was about to see Gamora -- everyone was.

He was obviously still not over her, and it broke your heart. Particularly because you saw how broken he became, and the fact that you have feelings for him didn't help either.

You were always there for him, though. Whenever he's drunk, crying, or angry, you were always there.

"I know you know, but-"

"I know," Peter said sternly. "Of course I know she's not Gamora -- she is, but she's not.. she's not my Gamora."

"But you want her to be?"

"Yes- No- Fuck, I don't know." He sighed. "I fell in love with this side of Gamora, when she was still brutal and unforgiving. The only difference is that now she doesn't love me back."

"I have a sense of what that feels like.." You muttered quietly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." You cleared your throat. "I'm.. gonna go check on Rocket."

The entire time Gamora was trying to help the team save Rocket, Peter was busy trying to either convince her they were in love, or trying to get 'back' with her.

She wasn't interested though. She actually noticed something else.

"You know, if you keep staring at me like that, you might shoot laser from your eyes." She said while you were both alone.

"..Sorry."

You blinked away and focused on Rocket.

"You're in love with him." She commented. "Don't even try to deny it, I know just from the way you look at me."

"Mind your own business."

You were never really best friends with Gamora -- this one or the old one. You respected her, but you kept your distance.

"There's no point in hating me, I'm not in love with Quill. I'm not the Gamora you knew."

"Do you honestly think we'd all be in this position if that fact is so easy to accept?" You deadpanned.

She pursed her lips. "You have a point."

"It's hard." You sighed. "We all know you're not our Gamora, but acceptance is hard. Especially for Peter right now."

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?"

You glanced at her, wondering why she's asking so many questions. "What's the point? He's already going through a lot. I know he doesn't feel the same way, so what good could come out of it?"

"You don't think he deserves to know?"

You frowned. "Why are you asking so many questions?"

"I'm new in this romance thing. I'm just curious."

"Then go read a book or something, Jesus."

You head to your quarters, but Gamora followed you.

"You're scared that I might fall in love with Quill." She stated. "You've been in love with him for the longest time, and though you don't want to admit it, there's a side of you that's slightly glad when his Gamora died."

"You don't know what you're talking about." You sent her a warning look.

"That's also why you don't like me -- I remind you of the fact that you were happy when one of your closest friends died. What kind of person does that make you--"

You screamed and pushed her to the wall, threatening her with a dagger to her throat. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Gamora was surprised by the ambush, but she was satisfied that she hit a nerve. "Could he ever love you now?"

Your grip on the dagger tightened.

"Hey, hey!" Quill stepped in, "What the hell is going on?? We can have arguments on my ship but no threats among family, you know this y/n."

"I'm not family." Gamora said as you lowered your weapon and left to your quarters.

As you slammed your door shut, you couldn't help but let out the tears that had been threatening to fall the moment you yelled at Gamora.

She was right about everything. She read you to filth.

How could Peter ever love you now?

Peter knocked on your door that night. He let himself in when you didn't answer, and saw you standing by the window. Something was clearly bothering you.

"If you're here to lecture me, please don't."

Peter let out a nervous chuckle. "Whaaat, why.. would I do that." He cleared his throat. "I totally wasn't going to do that."

"Look, if it'll make you feel better, I'll apologize to Gamora."

Peter stood next to you. "Ever since she appeared, you've been acting weird. What's wrong?"

"No I haven't. I'm fine."

He gave you a knowing look. The same look you gave him when he refused to talk to you about whatever's going on with him.

"I'm fine, Peter." You repeated. "You don't need to worry about me."

That felt like a "you totally should, but I don't want to tell you why", but Peter decided to let it go. He knew you needed some space.

"I'll still worry, but I'll leave you alone for now." He kissed the top of your head. "Just don't close your doors on me, alright? You've always been there for me, and I'm always here for you."

You didn't answer him as he left your room.

The team was about to face the High Evolutionary, and you were told to babysit Gamora and take care of Rocket. It was obvious that Peter wanted you to make up with Gamora over what happened.

You stayed with Rocket. Holding his hand, hoping that he'd find the strength to squeeze yours.

"I won't tell Quill."

Gamora again.

"When Thanos died, there was a part of me that blamed everyone." She continued, "He was a ruthless monster, but he was still my father. A tiny part of me still loved him. And it makes me hate myself, to think that I could even love a monster that killed my home, but it's true."

You nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Anyway, I radioed the Ravagers. They're coming to get me." Gamora said.

"Alright, I'll see you out."

"Oh, and seriously though, you need to tell him." She added. "Get him off my back."

You laughed. "I'll see what I can do."

As you were walking with Gamora, a creature clearly made by the High Evolutionary attacked. Along with Adam Warlock.

"..Just our luck."

"You take the pig?"

Gamora nodded. You both fought well and hard, but when there was an indestructible golden Sovereign, it was difficult to win. The only reason you won was because the pig tried to take Rocket and Adam had to kill him, wanting Rocket for himself.

Soon enough after that, meteors started falling from the sky.

"What the fuck..."

"Looks like the Ravagers aren't picking you up now."

Quill told you to fly the ship, picking him up and Groot so that you could save the rest of the team, who was still stuck in the High Evolutionary's ship.

"Why is there a severed pig head in the back of my ship??" Quill complained. No one answered him.

He called Kraglin for backup, and the five of you flew out to get Nebula, Drax, and Mantis.

A lot of fighting ensued. It was kind of nice, nostalgic, even.

"The old Gamora was better." You commented as you walked past her.

She smirked, enjoying the new bond you two had.

"So I assume everything went well with Gamora?!"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you were both busy getting the kids to jump over. "You really want to talk about this now?!"

He analyzed the situation. "Okay, yeah, let's talk about it later!"

"Hey Peter?!" You shouted over the loud noises.

"Yeah?!"

"There's also something I need to tell you after this!"

He looked confused. "Okay!"

The High Evolutionary was in custody. Rocket found a bunch of other raccoons, and everyone had jumped over.

Everyone except for Peter.

"Where's Peter??"

You could see him running to get something that had fallen from his pocket before finally jumping, but he had jumped too late and couldn't make it to Knowhere. The effects of space, lack of air, was evident throughout his body.

"PETER!!" You yelled, running and almost jumping to save him yourself, but Gamora stopped you.

She held you back, and you felt like vomiting.

It wasn't until Adam Warlock saved Peter, took him to Knowhere and Nebula put the kit on him.

"Peter, please." You went to his side, placing his head on your lap. "I can't lose you.." you whispered the last part.

It took a moment for Peter to wake up, but when he did, there was a giant group hug. You buried yourself in his chest and he gave you reassuring pats on the head. "I'm okay. I'm okay."

---

"So," Gamora smiled. "Radio me if there's anything you need."

"I will." You shook her hand. "It's good to have you. This you."

"It's good to be here." You left her to talk with Peter.

Peter smiled. "It's good seeing you two getting along."

"We've got some things in common." Gamora shrugged. "Peter, I.. I can't be your Gamora. I'm not her."

He nodded. "I know you're not. But this Gamora is not so bad."

She chuckled. "One other thing...open your eyes -- that sounded mean," she corrected herself and glanced at you, helping others. And saw how he looked at you too. "I think you know what I'm talking about."

Peter smiled as he looked at you. "Yeah. I know."

"Good luck, Quill. With everything."

"You too."

You and Peter didn't get a chance to talk. Everyone was so busy getting everything done, helping new people get settled that it just never came up.

But Peter called in for an emergency team meeting. And that's when your world crumbled down again.

"So, you're gonna leave?"

Peter nodded slowly, looking at you, but you avoided his eye contact. "My mother died in front of me when I was 8 years old and I have been running ever since. I'm gonna need to take some time. Learn how to swim."

You had to understand. There'd be a time where the team would have to go their own ways. Today was the day. You just didn't think it'd come so soon.

The team ended things in a good note. Rocket was your new leader, Nebula was going to be in charge of building the new society, and you.. you were sitting on a roof. Tried to get away from heartbreak, though it was already there.

"Hey stranger."

Peter sat next to you. "Got time to talk?"

You didn't even try to hide your tears this time. "I guess now would be a good time as any. Probably the last."

Peter frowned. He could sense how you felt. "I need to go, y/n."

"I know." You sighed. "So just.. just go."

"You said you needed to tell me something."

"It's nothing important." You shook your head. "I already forgot what it was."

Peter nodded sadly. "You know we'll be in touch, right?"

You nodded, not really acknowledging him.

"Radios exist. And there's no timezone, really." He tried to make the situation lighter. You offered him a small smile.

"Oh, here." Peter took out a mixtape from his pocket. "I uh.. almost died because that thing fell out of my pocket. I made you a mixtape. All the songs that I know you love, and hopefully it'll help when you miss me."

You held the mixtape in your hand. "...bold of you to assume I'll miss you."

Peter smiled knowing he cheered you up even just in the slightest bit. "I'm your best friend, of course you will."

"In all seriousness," He added, "Don't close your doors on me, alright? I need you to say it."

"I promise I won't shut you out."

"Good." He sighed in relief. "I'll come back, I promise."

He kissed your temple and gave you a hug. "Goodbye, y/n."

"..Goodbye, Peter."

Peter knew what you wanted to tell him, to be honest he wanted to tell you the same thing. But he's leaving.. so what's the point, right?

.

.

.

.

.

.

Star-Lord will return.

a/n: I think I just broke my own heart

[soulflamesketches]

Imagine being able to hear songs stuck in your soulmate’s head. Your soulmate is Peter Quill so you keep hearing 80s music. But Peter keeps hearing war drums. Care to explain?

Gif is not mine. If you wish to write an imagine based on this, go ahead. Just please tag me in it so I can read and reblog it :)

[stardusttrashed]

Dumbest Heroes in the Universe

Word Count: 1042 Summary: Y/n is sent on a mission to another planet to recover parts for Tony, but ends up running into Starlord and his crew

Pairing: Starlord x Y/n 

Warnings: Swearing “Who are you and what the hell are you doing with my stuff,” Peter barked at the figure in front of him. He watched as the figure raided the pile he’d been tasked to search.  

“That depends. One, who are you? And two, I don’t see any names on this stuff,” Y/n’s robotic voice replied as she continued to rummage through the pile of stuff without bothering to look back at the person speaking.

“I asked first, asshole,” he growled, getting increasingly annoyed. It wasn’t even really the fact that someone had beat him to the assignment that bothered him, it was the way the person was replying as if they were better than him.

“Yeah well, it sounded better when I said it. Also, close guess, but my name isn’t Asshole,” she quipped, smirking behind her mask. She finally stood up and turned to face him, her hand on her hip.

He scoffed and threw his head back slightly, “it should be. And come on, we both know you know who you’re talking to.” He smiled cockily behind his mask, who didn’t know the defender of the universe at this point.

“If I knew I would be asking, smart guy.” She moved her hand over to the staff that rested on her thigh, wrapping her hand around the cool metal. Whoever this guy was, he was getting on her last nerve. She had gotten here first fair and square and she’d be damned if she let him mess up her mission.

“Wait you really don’t know me? I’m a legendary outlaw and a guardian of the galaxy.” He pressed the side of his mask, revealing his baffled face. There was an expecting expression on his face, waiting for the clues to finally click and for the person in front of him to realize who he was.

“I can’t believe I’m talking to an outlaw,” Y/n geeked, moving her hand away from the staff. “What’s your cool code name?” She was trying hard not to admire his rugged looks and keep focused.

“Star-lord,” he smirked proudly as his eyes ran up and down Y/n.

“See, now that’s a cool outlaw name,” Y/n smiled wide behind her mask. She couldn’t wait to tell the Avengers she met a space outlaw. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna just let you take over my job,” she added as she placed her hand on her staff again. “So I suggest you stay out of my way.” Yn sighed as he pulled his blaster out of its holster and recovered his face. She focused her attention on her weapon for a second transforming it into a sword before charging at him. The center glowed a soft blue as the blade drug behind her, the sounds of Kashmir filling the air on the seemingly empty planet.

She dodged his blasts until she was within arms reach of him. She opted to punch him instead of going straight for the strike, attempting to knock off his helmet. Pain shot through her covered fist, pulsating as she pushed herself to continue despite not managing to get his helmet to come off.

“Nice try asswipe,” he chuckled before raising his hand holding the blaster to hit her head. Before his hand could make impact Y/n grabbed his hand and flipped him over. Peter landed on his back, hitting the ground with a loud thud that knocked the wind out of him. Y/n climbed over his gasping body, straddling him as she held the tip of her blade to his throat.   

“Was that the best you got,” Y/n teased. Without a warning she was sent flying back, slamming into the ground once she was a good distance away from him. Her helmet fell off as she skidded across the ground. “Damn it Stark,” she muttered under her breath. Just as she was catching her breath she could make out his figure flying towards her, preparing to attack. His hand stopped halfway through his punch as she watched him, already planning her next attack.

“You’re… woah,” he breathed as he once again removed his mask, revealing a baffled expression.

“What? A girl? From Earth? Playing music? Slightly uncomfortable underneath you right now?” Y/n glared at him despite wanting to nothing more than melt into his gorgeous hazel eyes. Hesitantly she moved his fist away from her line of sight.  

The wind around them picked up, carrying the dust in hazy bunches. The specs of dirt slightly stung as they hit her cheek. His eyes darted away from her to check the changing conditions, giving her enough time to punch him. Her knuckles clashed with his cheekbone, the impact making his stance unstable. Y/n took the moment to shove him off of her, scrambling onto her feet. The howling wind pushed against them, making them both stumble slightly.  

“I am Groot,” a small voice said behind Y/n, startling her slightly.

“I told you to stay on the ship!”

Y/n glanced at the small Flora Colossus behind her, just barely taller than her ankles with wide round eyes that melted her heart. “Hey there little guy,” she cooed as she lowered herself closer to him.

“I am Groot.”

“Rocket don’t,” Peter shouted out too late. A blast from Rocket’s gun had already hit Y/n on her side, causing her to let out a quick yelp before falling unconscious. “What the hell” he barked at the now close Rocket.

“Little guy here called me saying you were getting beat, so you’re welcome. Now let's get what we came here for.”

“I had it under control,” he said, earning an uninterested ‘mhm’ from Rocket.

“I am Groot,” Groot said as he looked down at Y/n then up to Rocket and Peter.

“She’ll be fi- hey,” Rocket protested as Peter picked her up bridal style. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to bring her back with us.” He let out a long annoyed sigh as he watched Peter make his way to the ship with Y/n’s limp body and Groot in his arms. “Sure, I’ll help you out and do your job while you take the stranger to the ship,” Rocket muttered with an eye roll.