#guardians of the galaxy fanfiction

[spockiguess]

Breeding Jealousy Part 1 || Peter Quill x Fem!Reader

A/N: This took me way too long to finish, but here’s the first part of a two (maybe three, no promises) part series. Thank you so much to Sav for helping me edit and leaving very silly comments on my Doc. I know my Quill fics are so incredibly out of left field, but my track record shows that this should actually be expected! So hah! Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this even if it took me a couple of days. I’m thinking of writing a Peter x Male/GN reader, so let me know if y’all would want to see that. 

Warnings: Smut, Use of Terms like Cunt and Pussy

Pairing: Peter Quill/Female Reader

Sure, you loved being a Guardian, but it definitely came with its hang ups. Be it the death-defying dance you had to walk every time you encountered another fuckhead with god-like abilities or the sickening injuries sustained from those perilous fights, being a part of Peter Quill’s infamous group of heroic outlaws took a heavy toll most days. 

Lately, you’ve been finding yourself exhausted beyond comprehension and in dire need of release. So, after much pushing from Mantis and even Nebula, you decided to have a night where you let all inhibitions loose and finally got dicked down in the way you most deserved. 

And that came in the form of you putting on your tightest, blackest, latex dress that just barely covered your ass and smearing on the sultriest makeup you could think up all to visit one of Knowhere’s many clubs. Being a planet made up of mostly outlaws, the people knew how to fucking party. 

Excitement coursed through your veins, and you exited your tiny bathroom ready to conquer the world. 

Futuristic black heels clacked against the metal floors of your shared housing with a resounding confidence as you traversed multiple floors and staircases, purse in hand. 

You felt alive for the first time in eight months, and when you entered the common area, you acknowledged Peter–your captain and longtime crush–with a nonchalant wave, barely even bothered by the way he looked you up and down multiple times. 

“Where’re you going?” Peter asked incredulously. 

“Out,” You answered back excitedly, a wide grin plastered across your face. 

With a shocked expression, Peter muttered to himself doubtfully, “Out. Yeah, right. Out,” before he spoke up again, “So where is this out?” 

Pausing just before the door, you turned back to Peter, unwavering, “Korthax.” Peter spluttered, knocking over his drink and immediately rose from his seat. 

“You’re going to Korthax looking like that? Why?” Peter crossed his arms and you sighed knowing your fun would have to wait until Peter’s little interrogation was over. 

Deciding not to answer his question for now, you teased Peter, “Looking like what, exactly?” Peter just scoffed and motioned to your body, as if that explained everything. 

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shrugged, “I’m just going out to have fun and hopefully sleep in a bed that isn’t mine tonight. Does that bother you?” 

Peter scoffed again, completely unwilling to believe what he was seeing, “Yes, actually, it does bother me.” 

This time, you were the one to scoff, “Okay, why? I’m an adult, aren’t I? I get to choose how I spend my free time.” 

Peter wasn’t having any of it and crossed the room in a few long strides, getting right in your face, “Not when those choices could put you in a ton of danger.” Peter gave his best serious face but rejoiced internally, totally satisfied with his response. His argument had practically no holes, he thought. 

“Right, because when we face off against literal gods, that’s fine. But when I want to go out, then it’s a problem. Thanks, I get it now.” You were being a little rude and extremely sarcastic, but at this point, you were fed up with Peter’s sudden interest in your personal life and how you conducted it. 

Peter short circuited, his brain literally could not think of one smart response to that. With what you were insinuating, you were right. Peter himself constantly puts you in danger, so why is now any different? 

Still, Peter wasn’t a man known for backing down against good logic, so he doubled down and got even closer, “Do you know how dangerous some of these people are? At least with the people we fight, you know what they’re capable of. Here, you’re at a disadvantage– you feel too safe.” 

You were also extremely hard-headed, so you got closer as well, your faces just mere inches away from each other, “These are your people, are they not? You banter with them, you literally call them family. And now they’re suddenly big scary monsters just waiting to take advantage of me? What a crock of shit.” 

Peter blew a big puff of air out of his flaring nose, obviously annoyed with your indignation at his abrupt prodding. Peter was backed into a corner, you were much smarter than people gave you credit for. Speaking harshly, Peter began, “Fine. You want the truth?”

You cocked your head to the side, your face sprouting a vicious smile as you rested your hands on your hips, “Yes, Peter, I’d love the truth.” 

A minute passed before Peter finally began to swallow all of his anxiety and fears regarding his feelings about you, he reasoned it was about time to let the truth flow anyway. “I like you. I mean, I really like you.” 

Peter spoke lowly, his voice a resentful whisper, “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the first day I saw you. So imagine being me, seeing you, wearing that, and you’re talking about spending your night with some cheap lowlife when I’m right here. Now that is a crock of shit.”

Oh. Well, that certainly puts a dent in your plan. Well, fuck it, you thought. Taking Peter’s face in your hands, you pressed your soft, rouged lips against his and pressed your body against him, trying to communicate the utter want you’ve felt for him ever since you joined his ragtag band of misfits. 

Peter groaned wantonly, his calloused hands flying to the seat of your ass and squeezing greedily as he deepened the passionate kiss. Fireworks went off in your head. It was all finally happening. 

Peter’s tongue swiped against your lips and you opened them in hazy approval, letting him dominate your very being with not one complaint. 

Soon, you had to break away to catch your breath. A single strand of saliva kept the two of you connected before it broke off and landed on your chins. A fog of lust clouded your minds and the only thing you could think about was getting in the other’s pants. 

Peter was one step ahead of the curve though, and before you knew it, you were being hauled up and over Peter’s shoulder. With a yelp, you dropped your purse and your already short dress rode up even farther, leaving you shivering at the feeling of the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy. 

Peter noticed this immediately (you swore his brain was wired to scope out anything even slightly appealing within a ten mile radius), and slapped your bare ass, commenting, “Seriously, a thong? How desperate were you?” 

You slapped his ass in return, “Oh, fuck you.” 

“You’re certainly about to,” Peter grinned wickedly. 

Eventually, you made it to Peter’s cramped bedroom and he carefully laid you on his raggedy bed, admiring you for a long moment. Having abandoned your heels on the trek there, you teasingly ran one of your feet against Peter’s tented pants, beckoning him closer. 

Peter hastily obliged and dove in, kissing you wildly as he bunched your dress above your hips and situated himself between your spread legs. His large hands traversed your mostly naked skin before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your thong and yanked them down. 

You gasped and Peter took this opportunity to capture you in another heated kiss while his thumb slid through your slick folds and honed in on your throbbing clit. Moaning, you kissed Peter back feverishly, your hand coming down to grip his wrist as he rubbed your clit in slow circles. 

Breaking apart once again, Peter kissed along the length of your neck before biting your collarbone, then soothing the mark with his tongue. Your other hand flew to Peter’s hair which you grabbed a tuft of and tugged. Peter groaned, pressing against your clit harder, causing you to moan in return. 

Sliding down your body, Peter’s face aligned with your weeping cunt before he gave you a cocky look (one eyebrow arched, smile devilishly lopsided) and licked a hot stripe along your pussy, his mouth locking around your clit.

You bucked into Peter’s face and pulled at his hair even more, jerking at the vibrations his breathless moans sent straight into your aching core. Everything felt hot: your body, your soul, the very air in the room, you couldn’t focus on a single thing. 

All you knew in that moment was Peter’s eager mouth licking and sucking at your most sensitive spot with a hunger unparalleled. The action sent a blindingly hot energy rippling through you, like an electric current traveling through a copper wire, making you gasp in pleasure. 

Your fingers wound tighter into Peter’s luscious hair as you felt this energy ball up in the depths of your core and send radiating shockwaves that caused you to yell Peter’s name like it was a divine prayer capable of saving you from this sinful hedonism. 

Wetness dripped from Peter’s chin as your body spasmed and that energy finally released in a seemingly cosmic explosion that sent stars reeling across the universe. Still experiencing the aftershocks, Peter came back up and kissed you long and hard, his hand coming to hold the back of your neck.

Feeling somewhat devious, you gathered up the gumption to lock your legs around Peter’s waist and force him onto his back with a blanket-muffled thump. Not wasting a second, you rearranged yourself so that you were now sitting between Peter’s muscular legs. 

The outlaw was still wearing his faded jeans, so you made quick work of them by popping the button, pulling the zipper, and tugging both his pants and underwear down in one swift motion. 

Peter smiled widely, chuckling, “Eager, aren’t we?” You grinned, watching as his dick sprang to life and slapped against his toned belly. It was big, in both length and width, and you wondered if you’d even be able to take half of it in your mouth.

You were a trooper, though, so you took his thick cock in your hand and retorted, “Oh, I can be bored, if you want,” mirroring his actions from earlier, you licked a wet stripe from Peter’s base to his tip, locking eyes with him before continuing, “That is totally do-able.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, about to make a comeback when you hoped for the best and swallowed as much of Peter’s dick as you could in one fell swoop. 

“Fuck!” Peter cursed, his hand flying to the back of your head and grabbing a bunch of hair. 

Peter’s immediate reaction only fueled your intense desire to please and you took more of his length into your mouth, trying to stop your gag reflex the moment his cock hit the back of your throat. Curly brown hairs tickled your nose once you reached the hilt, and you soothingly rubbed the sides of Peter’s thighs before resting your hands on his, pushing down to signal that you would really like to be face-fucked. 

Peter got the memo and swore again before bracing himself against the bed. Not a moment passed before your mouth was being used like some sort of personal masturbator and tears quickly filled your eyes as Peter’s dick ravaged your throat. 

What kept you going was hearing Peter’s utterly indecent moans and achy whines as he got himself off, desperately chasing his own nearing climax.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Peter whined, head falling back against his pillow.  

Soon, Peter’s breath began to hitch and his hips pistoned into your mouth with such speed that it almost made you dizzy. Only a few minutes later did Peter finally still and pump hot cum down your throat as his fingers dug further into your hair, keeping you right in place. 

Peter cooed, “That’s right, baby, take it all,” before he finally let go of your head. Catching your breath, you wiped some of the remnants marking your lips and made a show of licking it off your fingers. Peter was already getting hard again, but seeing that made all the blood rush from his head to his cock. 

“That good?” you teased, climbing back up Peter’s body. Peter only nodded before kissing you deeply, you could taste each other’s essences on your tongues. 

Feeling beat, you plopped down next to Peter’s still-heaving body after wrangling yourself out of your clothes and snuggled closely, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck. Peter decided to ignore his dick for the moment and wormed his arms around your waist, bringing you even closer. The sun began to rise outside of his window, but it didn’t matter as the both of you fell asleep within moments. 

#peter quill #peter quill x reader #peter quill x you #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #gotg #gotg3 #no spoilers #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #smut #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy 3 #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #fanfic #fanfiction

[raccoonfallsharder]

I just found out Rockets VA can sing (really good actually) do you have any headcanons based on that?

mmmmm. sorry for the delay, i got distracted by rocket prompt week and also by thinking about rocket crooning in your ear.

he’s always humming, you know? (this is not a headcanon — it’s in the movies.) he’s often humming while he works. and that scene on berhert? where he’s sort of purring along with the music while plotting severe injury to the incoming ravagers? i…

sorry. focusing.

im sure the first few times you hear him mumbling lyrics under his breath, you damn near need to excuse yourself. you know you can’t call attention to it — in a best-case scenario, he'll stop singing entirely. you say nothing, and your silence is rewarded: rocket's mumbling a tune — so low your toes curl in your boots — almost whenever the two of you are working quietly on some project or another. most of the time, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. the rest of the time, he thinks you can’t hear him.

once, while the entire crew was dicking around in the common room and rocket started humming under his breath, pete had commented on it. you'd shot him a murderous look but it had been too late: rocket’s ears had gone flat and his tail had tucked between his ankles and his eyes had swiveled around the room. he'd been shifting and snapping out harsh words so frantically that you were sure he was scarlet under his fur. you’d had to go a miserable dozen cycles before you’d stumbled across him lilting low to himself again in the engine room one night.

fuckin pete. you still haven’t forgiven that guy.

but things get easier — at least between you and rocket — after that. there's a day when rocket looks up and realizes that you can hear him — maybe you're swaying slightly to the sound of his voice, or lightly tapping the soft pads of your fingertips like raindrops on your knee. he stumbles to a fumbling halt. you don’t say anything, though: you just pass him an encouraging half-smile before returning to whatever you were doing. you’ll hang out with him regardless of whether you get to lull yourself to the sound of his deep, pretty voice or not, you figure.

it happens again — and then again. and eventually, rocket stops stopping. he sees you walk into the otherwise-empty common area while he’s clanging away on some new cannon, or you slide into the seat next to him while he’s piloting the bowie alone — and he tosses you a little smirk and keeps going, keeps humming those bars or rumbling those words up over his ribs and out the corners of his mouth.

you’re not the first person he’s sung to, of course.

there’s a reason groot loves music. when he was just a sprout, rocket would carefully place groot's small pot right next to where he lay his own head, and he’d croon a lullaby from star-lord’s library of songs. this was how the little flora colossus first learned to fall asleep — and how he woke up — every rotation for the first dozen cycles of his life. even when groot got a little bigger and could leave his pot and run around chasing orloni, he’d still drift off sprawled on rocket’s shoulder or across the top of his head: dozing to the sound of his father clinking away on aero-rigs while humming some melody or another.

even before that — i think rocket probably sung to groot the elder, too, at least once or twice. maybe the first time rocket had seen the big guy lose his limbs, before he'd learned that they would grow back. rocket had promised tibius lark that he’d look out for the flora colossus, and now here's groot — mutilated and in pain. rocket had tried to soothe the groaning, moaning groot to sleep, wracked by guilt before eventually realizing the big idiot was just a giant frickin’ crybaby with limbs that would essentially regenerate.

still, rocket hadn’t minded singing to his friend too much after that.

maybe even earlier, too. maybe there had been a time, after explaining music to his cagemates but before telling them about flying machines. maybe he’d hummed for batch 89 too.

they would’ve thought his childish voice was the most comforting, lovely thing they’d ever heard, i think. sometimes, as you might guess, the members of batch 89 would have nightmares or be in too much pain to close their eyes and rest, and when those nights happened, rocket would have hummed them back to sleep, all low and slow and sweet.

floor would have begged for songs every chance she got. teefs would have marveled at how beautiful rocket had sounded, and lylla — lylla would have told him, very solemnly, that he had a gift.

rocket doesn't think about that very often — tries not to think about those days at all, if he's being honest — but eventually, as you know, his past comes out. it's long after he’s gotten comfortable with you, of course — and raised his son, and saved half the universe, and purchased the skull of a god, and freed himself from the high evolutionary for the last time, and become a captain, but now—

now, he remembers lylla's words.

the star children descend from the arête and different households try to take them in, but it only takes one or two failed sleep-shifts across all of knowhere before it becomes apparent that none of the kids can rest. the children have nightmares — of course they do — and they’re used to sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder with each other in cages, on hard floors. they're used to whispering stories and comforts to each other, listening gratefully to the quiet words of their siblings, small hands gripping small hands in the darkness.

it takes a while to figure out, but eventually arrangements are made — at least until the kids can adjust. spaces are shifted so the children can nest together, and it helps — mostly. drax tries telling stories. cosmo recommends warm milk. howard suggests a quarter-shot of ginsky for each kid (you promptly put the kibosh on that one). nebula comes one night to tell the kids in great detail how she’ll destroy anyone who dares to harm them. you’re so happy mantis went on her journey to find herself but sometimes, when you see how exhausted and hollow-eyed the kids are in the morning, you just wish she were back so she could help them sleep.

and then suddenly it's a few cycles later, and you realize you haven’t heard any more concerns about the kids’ night terrors. you look around and realize they’re bright-eyed again, cheeks glowing, chattering at breakfast. curious as to what ended up working — if it was the indigarran lavender satchets sent by one of kraglin’s ex-wives or it it was the broker boring them with the droning details of the histories of various artifacts he’d once had in his shop on Xandar — you come visiting one night on tip-toe, just to check in.

rocket’s there — curled up on an old armchair someone had brought in for the neverending parade of storytellers and caregivers. his voice rolls over the sleepy children, and their eyelashes droop while he lingers on some notes and skips up and down others. the sound of it curls around them — and you. his voice nestles into the shadows, practically plucking up the edges of the blankets and tucking the kids in all on its own.

you watch as, handful after handful, they drift: eased deeply into dreaming by the power and protection of the captain’s voice, all on its own.

#rfh headcanons #rfh fluff #rocket raccoon #rocket raccoon headcanons #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon fluff #rocket raccoon x reader #gotg fanfiction #gotg rocket #rocket gotg #rocket raccoon x you #rocket racoon x reader #rocket x you #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #mcu #marvel

[darsynia]

I'm gonna let you pick the Marvel man (just not anyone you've done xReader for, lol - you gotta pick someone out of your comfort zone) and do xReader for: 80. crashing your lips together during an argument

I definitely wrote out of my comfort zone here! Peter Quill/f!Reader

Summary: Ever since Peter Quill and his crew rescued you from your dying ship, the man has been an absolute menace. You wish you could get the upper hand, but somehow he's always one step ahead of you, and ogling you the whole time.

Warnings | Length: Swearing/GotG typical banter | 1,574

Bet Your Ass

“What is your problem, Quill? By the Gods!”

The guy’s been chapping your ass since you were rescued, and you’re completely over it. Sure, he’s got arms, and that face, and those thighs, but by Lumesta, you’re going to need him to shut his mouth pretty soon or you don’t know what you’ll do! It’s been three days, and every time he’s laid eyes on you, he’s made a comment about how he would have rather rescued one of your crewmates.

Your ship had sustained the most unlucky micrometeorite damage ever, and you know you’re lucky to be alive. Two ships showed up to your captain’s distress call, and your three-man crew split up, as the medical ship the other two ended up on was almost at capacity as it was.

To hear Quill bitch about it, he’s brought on a completely useless slave girl, not a mechanic who’s already upped the efficiency of his weird little ship by 4%. It’s all ‘what use does a medical ship have with two renowned fighters’ and ‘we always get stuck with the girls.’ The blue-skinned cyborg woman whose name you struggle with had actually punched him after that one.

Drax has been leaning up against the wall, and after you turn away from snapping at Peter, he nods at you. “He likes your boobs.”

“Oh, here we go!” Quill groans, throwing a food wrapper toward the garbage can. It comes nowhere close.

“I am Groot.”

“I’m getting it, I’m getting it!”

“I am Groot.”

You don’t understand what Groot says, but everyone else does. It’s a disadvantage, but an amusing one, usually. This time, it’s clear the two statements are about very different things-- Quill has straightened in the process of picking up the garbage (which is a shame, because those pants of his hug that ass), so he can look askance at the teenaged tree.

“I am not dignifying that with a response,” he snaps back. “I mean, if we’re going to nitpick, the neckline of her shirt is a little low, but just because it’s eye-catching doesn’t mean--”

You cannot believe this. “Wait, so we went from Drax saying you like my boobs to you objecting to them?”

“Hey! I do not objectify. I’m very respectful!”

“You’re looking at her boobs right now,” Rocket says sardonically from the doorway.

“Weren’t you checking Cleavage Girl’s work? Scram, I’m trying to have an argument here,” Peter says loudly. He actually makes a ‘shoo’ gesture.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m calling you Tight-ass from now on,” you say, crossing your arms over your breasts. You know from experience (as in, pretty much every time you do it) that Quill won’t be able to pull his eyes away.

You’ve made a calculated error, though. Up until now, you’ve left your appreciation of his physique to yourself, and now the man is laser focused on this discrepancy.

“I knew you were staring at me!” Quill crows, strutting over. “That’s why you’re all sulky sexy, you secretly want me, and it’s killing you!”

“I am GROOT.”

Drax points at Peter with the piece of fried food he’s eating. “He’s right. You’re accusing her of what you are doing.”

“Cleavage Girl is new, why are you all on her side??”

Groot shrugs. “I am groot.”

“Woah, speak for yourself!” Rocket yells, making a grossed-out face.

“He’s not wrong. I would enjoy watching them,” Drax smiles.

“Well, now I’m just horrified,” you say, shoving away images in your mind of what the others might be picturing between the two of you. You spin on your heel and start toward the door, but your forward progress is halted suddenly, like you’ve caught your jacket on something. You yank angrily, but though you get free of whatever it was, you only have a few seconds before you’re pinned boobs-first against the wall of the room, with the familiar bulk of Peter fucking Quill pressed up against you.

“Okay, I take it back. You definitely have muscles,” he says, lips close to your ear.

“Get off,” you say, but your heart rate is up, your skin tingling with the pheromone your people give off when you’re attracted to a potential mate.

“Oh, I’d love to. I didn’t think you were into me,” he says infuriatingly. You hadn’t realized the double meaning of what you’d just said, and you rest your forehead on the bulkhead in frustration.

“I’m not,” you lie, shoving back with your hips. You’ve got enough leverage on the wall that he flies back a ways, so you spin around, dropping to a fighting stance.

“Hey, hey, I’m just responding to the signals you’re giving off,” Peter says, but you can see something in his eye; respect, perhaps? Something has shifted since your display of physical dominance. He’s looking you in the eyes, not the boobs.

“You couldn’t handle me anyway,” you snap back without thinking. Instantly, Quill’s face suffuses with an interested grin, and his eyebrows go up lasciviously.

There’s a loud crinkling noise only feet away, as Drax dumps out the rest of his snack into his open mouth. “Go on, I’m not even here,” he says.

“I am Groot!”

“I do not need tips from you on how to get her to want to kiss me!” Peter shouts, clearly affronted.

“Oh, I’ll kiss you,” you say impulsively. “But you have to promise to always look at my face, not any other part of my body.” You cock your hip and arch your back in an overt challenge.

“What if I’m behind you?” he asks, crossing his own arms. The muscles on his exposed arms look so good you wouldn’t mind trying your teeth on them, for multiple reasons.

“If that happens, you have to turn around,” Rocket says. You’d thought he’d left the room, and so did Peter, because both of you look around until you see that he’s sitting faced away in the captain’s chair, which hides his whole body from behind.

“I am Groot.”

Everyone just looks at Groot, and Peter’s eyes go wide.

Their reactions freak you out. “What?”

He shakes his head.

“What?” you press, walking forward. Quill isn’t answering so you decide to remind him that you do, indeed, have strength he respects, even if it’s not your strength of character. You grab the front of his shirt, but his response is to fist pump.

“He said you want me and you’d prove it by coming over to drag me to my quarters… and--” Quill looks down at his own chest and smirks.

You let go right away and groan. “This ship is infuriating! I give up, I wish I went on the med ship, okay? You win!”

To your complete confusion, everyone, even the cyborg lady who was apparently eavesdropping from the hallway, walks in and shoves handfuls of credits at Quill, who looks incredibly smug.

“What the hell--” you start.

Groot walks over and pats your arm. “I am Groot.” Everyone else in the room starts leaving, and you’re still furious and confused.

“Quill--”

“I bet them I could get you to say you wished you were somewhere else,” he shrugged. “Easiest bet ever. All I had to do was stare at your body and be myself.”

All things considered, the man could have chosen far more miserable ways to win his bet, but you’re still het up and irritated. “Technically I won that bet for you. You should split it with me.”

“No can do, Cleavage Girl.” He folds his hands behind his back, bulging his arm muscles at you. 

You step forward to shove him onto his ass, but his arms come down lightning fast, one leg planted behind him to brace himself: he’d known you would do that, and now his lips are on yours, one hand cupping your cheek like you are lovers instead of two people who can barely stand to be in the same room together.

The thrill of contact takes you by surprise. It’s like adrenaline has chemically altered into pleasure with the addition of your anger, and suddenly you can’t get enough. The two of you wrestle across the room to the nearest wall, hands grasping at clothing, lips sucking, teeth biting, tongues swiping as if unable to trust the evidence of your attraction for longer than a few seconds.

Minutes later, he’s tracing the line of your shirt along the edge of your breasts when you finally catch your breath, and you realize what you have to do to best him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your kiss privileges are hereby revoked.”

“What? No!” Peter groans, lifting his head. His lips are red, pupils blown, out of breath, a complete gorgeous wreck of a man.

“What did I say the conditions were?” you say implacably.

He thinks. Peter’s lips twitch to one side, then the other, and then his eyes pop open and he looks horrified. “You don’t mean that. I was kissing you there, that doesn’t--”

“It counts!” you say sadly. “You weren’t looking at my face.”

You have no idea how he’ll react to your bluff (it’s totally a bluff. That kiss was amazing. You have no idea what boring shit you’d have been subjected to on that medical ship, but you definitely won Best Rescue), but what you don’t expect is for him to narrow his eyes and smile.

“This calls for a new wager.”

“You bet your ass it does.”

#peter quill x reader #peter quill imagine #starlord x reader #starlord fanfiction #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill x f!reader #starlord x f!reader #starlord imagine #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #argument fic #banter #kiss fic #ask response

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Best support friend; Rocket raccoon x gn reader

*Author’s note*

A double update? No get out of town! Truthfully I was gonna save posting this fic up once I got a Jack Kline request that has been sitting in my inbox collecting dust for almost a year or however long ago it was but I decided idk when I’ll post it up so I decided to just go ahead and post this fic up and hopefully I’ll do the Jack Kline one in the next week or so (it’s like 75% done).

So @itsscromp​ here is your new Rocket raccoon request.

Warnings: abuse, fluff, panic attacks, angst, protective Rocket, swearing, clueless ravagers. 

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queen-paladin​

@queensdivas​

@gay-and-ready-to-cry​

@austynparksandpizza​

___________________________________________________________

“NONE OF THIS WOULD’VE HAPPENED IF YOU HAD JUST LET ME TAKE THE REINS FOR ONCE!!” exclaimed a voice.

“Well excuse me for not letting the man with the robotic eyes take the wheel.” Another voice snarked sarcastically.  I was passing through Knowhere trying to organize some supplies when I heard the sound of arguing.  I followed the voices and there were Ezekiel and Torath.

“Oh no what now?” I muttered as I walked towards them.  The two of them continued to argue as I spoke up. “Hey guys.”

“You have any idea what that shrimp Quill is gonna do to us the minute we tell you lost the cargo?” Torath said.

“I lost the cargo? Need I remind you that it was because of your glitchy eyes that you hit the ejector button sending the cargo out into the depths of space!” Ezekiel snapped again at Torath.

“And need I remind you that you are literally the worst pilot in the entire galaxy! I’ve seen beasts with half a brain fly advance ships better than you!”

“Okay guys can we please just….” I tried to cease the argument but the two stubborn, pig-headed men got into a squabble.  Fists were flying and swears were spat out.  “hey! Hey! Hey! Hey guys stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” suddenly I caught an elbow to the nose which not only sent me to the ground but also in a flashback.

~Flashback~

I fell to the ground as a punch came across my face and I whimpered as I spat out blood.

“Quit being weak Terran! How will you ever grow a backbone if you keep behaving like a sniveling coward!”

“But sir it—” I was kicked in the stomach this time and I let out a soft but painful grunt.

“You tell me it hurts and I swear I will make your next test more painful than the last!” I whimpered and gave him a nod as he forced me to stand back up and told me to stand my ground as he kept punching and kicking me.

~End of flashback~

My chest tightened and my heart pounded against my ears.  No I-I wasn’t there! I wasn’t there anymore! I-I have to get out of here! I stood up and took off running as fast as I could. Even when I had ran into someone I didn’t stop, all I knew was that I had to get out of there.

*Rocket’s POV*

I felt someone shove pass me but just before I could snap at them telling them to watch where they were going, I saw the familiar shape of (Y/n).  Normally they don’t just run like that unless there’s something wrong or their in a hurry. And they’re usually not in a hurry.

That’s when I heard the sound of Torath and Ezekiel screaming and rolling all over each other in a brawl.  I went over to them and called out to them.

“OI SHITS FOR BRAINS!!” but not even my voice could deter them from arguing.  I nodded nonchalantly as I took out my electro-shocker gun and activated it.  I first aimed it at Ezekiel and fired one shot before firing at Torath.  And just like when Groot, (Y/n) and I first hunted down Quill, they both exclaimed as the electro-shock balls stuck to them and they were given a good shock.  “Have I got your attention now shitbags?”

“What was that for rodent?” snapped Ezekiel.

“First of all don’t call me a rodent, not when I can give you a second dosage of shocks. Maybe this time I’ll crank it up a notch.” That got him to shut up.  “Second of all, why was (Y/n) racing out from your general direction looking upset?”

“(Y/n) was here?” Torath asked as his robotic eyes moved around.

“Yeah she was now answer my question nimrods! What happened?!”

“I didn’t even know that she had even came here.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“How do you not notice them? They’re the only Terran besides Quill!”

“Wait, is that why my elbow hurts so much?” asked Ezekiel. My ears twitched and I slowly turned towards him, my tail twitching in anger.

“What. Was that. You said?!” I sneered lowly.

“In our squabble, I—I felt my elbow hit something but I—” I didn’t even let him finish as I launched at him and proceeded to beat the shit out of him.  Blinded by pure rage.

How dare this son of a bitch hit (Y/n)! She had to live her entire life abused and tortured just to prove that she could enhance her skin into a hard-carbon shield.  Had it not been for Groot and I, she would’ve had to spend the rest of her miserable life with that sick, cowardly bastard.

I was deep in my rage that I hadn’t even felt myself being pulled forced away from Ezekiel and Quill’s voice exclaimed.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa Rocket cool it man! Now I don’t know what the hell brought this on but you need to chill out right now!”

“This spineless rat hurt (Y/n)!” I yelled.

“I didn’t know they were even here! We didn’t know they were there!” Ezekiel tried to reason as Torath helped him up.

“With the way you two were bitching at each other you couldn’t see your own noses at the end of your faces!” I managed to wriggle my way out of Quill’s hold and without another word raced off to find (Y/n).

Being reminded of any form of abuse whether it’s done to themselves or they see if, they get triggered by it and let me tell you it gets bad.  So bad that they sometimes forget where they are or whose friend of foe.  All they see is that damned doctor.

I was asking around hoping that anyone had seen them but they all proved to be a bunch of negligent losers.  That was until Mantis had said that she felt their emotions coming from my ship.  I raced back to the Milano and soon enough in the main cockpit I found them huddled up, their chest rising up and down at an erratic pace.

I could also hear just how bad their heart was racing and could smell the panicked sweat from not only their brow but also their clammy hands. I walked towards them but didn’t speak, at this point they wouldn’t be able to hear me.  But there was one way to pull them out of this…..and Quill or Drax better not be spying on me otherwise I’ll blast them halfway across the quadrant.

I sat as close as I could beside them and first gave their bicep a gentle and affectionate nuzzle.  I then placed my paw onto their forearm and using my claws I very gently stroked down the skin of their forearm.  Then going back up to the same place where I started before going back down again.

“C’mon (N/n). Come back to me. You can do this.” I muttered before their breathing slowed and they seemed to be coming back down to reality.

*My POV*

It had been forever since I had a panic attack.  If I didn’t know what they were, I swear I thought I was dying.  My vision was so blurry, I couldn’t even see my own hand in front of my face.  There was this high-pitch ringing that was constantly piercing my ears and my body felt paralyzed after I had collapsed into god knows where.

That’s when I felt something furry against my arm.  I also felt sharp nails (or claws) gently stroke down my arm.  They didn’t hurt but they did send tingles up from my arm to my spine.  Slowly the claws kept stroking down my forearm until I lifted it up and found my hand being placed on something soft.

I opened my eyes and after blinking away some of the tears as well as the haze that my vision was making, it began to focus and there I saw Rocket sitting right beside me.  His ears slightly bent backward as his eyes were looking at me assuringly and I also saw that my hand was now resting just on top of his head.

He gave me a soft nod and allowed me to stroke through his fur (knowing that it helped calm me down in the past).  After petting his head for a few minutes, I was able to unfold my legs from my chest so that they now were fully extended in front of me and I felt the tingling sensation of them falling asleep.

Rocket then rested his upperbody on top of my right thigh and allowed me to continue stroking his fur until I felt a vibration on my thigh. I looked down and as I stroked down Rocket’s neck, I could feel him purring, like actually purring.  I didn’t even know he could purr (kinda made me think back to the cats back on Earth).

“I….didn’t know you could purr like a cat.”

“This is a once in a lifetime thing. You speak of this to anyone, especially that stupid mutt Cosmo, I’ll rip your head off.”

“Thank you Rocket. This……means a lot.”

“Been a long time since you had one, figured you’d need something to help calm you down.” Rocket can be gruff and hard on the outside but when he wants to, if you look deep, deep, deep, deep down inside, you’ll find that he’s just a sweet, caring, intuitive creature who will do anything to help you out.

Even if it’s purring like a cat and having someone pet you constantly until they feel centered again.  But I wouldn’t have my best friend any other way.

#Rocket Raccoon #rocket raccoon drabble #rocket raccoon imagines #rocket raccoon imagine #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket raccoon fluff #rocket raccoon x gn reader #gotg #gotg imagine #gotg imagines #gotg fanfiction #gotg fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #Guardians of the Galaxy #guardians of the galaxy fanfic #guardians of the galaxy fandom #guardians of the galaxy imagines #guardians of the galaxy imagine #peter quill #drax #groot #mantis #nebula #gotg fandom #mcu oneshot #mcu fandom #mcu imagine #mcu imagines

[takenbypeter]

Food Not For The Fainthearted

Adam Warlock x reader

Words: 1378

“Okay sit down, but keep your eyes shut,” Adam instructed as he placed you in front of a chair.

Your smile deepened as he did so, clear excitement audible in his words. 

Adam has only been on this skull planet for a year now but he hadn’t really made a true friend on this planet until a couple months in when he met you. You made him feel welcomed here. With you he wasn’t at all embarrassed or fearful that you would judge him if he didn’t know a common thing, being that he was only taken out of his pod recently. 

One of the things he enjoyed about you was that you truly took the time to explain things to him and then let him analyze things. One of the things he explored with you was food. Now of course Adam knew what food was and its purpose. He just wasn’t aware there was such a variety of sustenance. With you he discovered his likes, dislikes, how to mix some foods together in recipes, it was truly all new to him. But after some time he gained the hang of it. 

He was so grateful towards you, which is why he wanted to express his thanks. And he thought, what better way than to cook you a meal. Which is what brought you to where you are now, sitting in front of a meal with your eyes closed. He had no help from you and didn’t even give you a hint as to what the meal was, clearly wanting the dish to remain a surprise…until now.

“Okay open your eyes,” he encouraged and as soon as your lids opened, (after blinking at the sudden light), they shifted downwards towards the plate placed in front of you. 

“Chicken stir fry?!” You asked not expecting this type of dish.

“Not just any chicken stir fry. Spicy chicken stir fry,” he corrected, proudly. At the mention of that the crinkle around your eyes relaxed while you tried to keep your smile on display, “oh wow, spicy chicken stir fry…” you repeated. 

Yes, you and Adam had tried different foods together and you were the one to introduce him to different spices and such but it seems that he didn’t notice how you never actually ate any of the spicy foods. It wasn’t the fact that you just didn’t like it, it was more of the fact that some of the spicy items would inflame your taste buds which just wasn’t exactly your favorite feeling in the world. 

But were you going to tell this poor man who looked just so eager for you to try the first dish he’s ever made? Of course not.

“It looks appetizing,” you stated, which was the truth. 

“Thanks, I can't wait for you to try it.”

After making sure you had a glass of water sitting beside you, you stuck the utensil into the dish making sure you got enough. Lifting up the portion you smiled at Adam who was watching you eagerly. And with that final glance you put the portion in your mouth. 

It took all of your acting skills, (which wasn’t exactly the best), to give a smile and pretend it was all okay. Granted the food was delicious but you could already feel the heat sticking to the back of our throat. 

“Mmm, delicious,” you said, mouth hiding behind your hand as the food just hovered in your mouth. Adam grinned widely as he looked down to take his spoonful. In the split second that he does you're already breathing out hot air, trying to do so subtly. 

Obviously there’s no real way of breathing out subtly and Adam picked his gaze back up, looking at you questionably. 

You waved your hand at him, “it’s just a little hot.”

“Oh, yeah I added extra sauce cause I really liked the kick it offered when we tried it awhile ago.”

Your eyes widened at the word extra before you composed yourself, “yup that explains it.” You could practically feel the taste buds on the tip of your tongue starting to appear bumpy, while your nose felt as if it had begun to run. 

Placing your utensil down you take a sip of water, which of course barely helps, if it does at all. Setting the cup down you mentally give yourself a pep talk, he went to all this effort to make you a meal. 

You got your utensil ready taking one more small amount in, of course this just causes more damage to the scene. Quickly swallowing the food, figuring that was better than spitting it out you then grabbed the water before gulping it down leaving just about less than half. 

It was when you placed it down and met Adam’s eyes that you realized just how crazy you probably looked. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking concerned. 

You debated for a split second if you should just tell him the truth or pretend everything was okay. You didn’t want to crush his feelings but you didn’t want to burn yourself as well. 

You placed your utensil down, a little more aggressively than you expected, but you blame that on the burning sensation, “Adam this meal is delicious. It’s beautiful, so well put together, I love it.”

His body physically perks up at your words, his shoulders straightening out. 

“But my body just doesn’t get along well with spicy foods.”

Judging from the expression that overcame his face this seemed like news to him, “what do you mean? We’ve had spicy foods together.”

“Yes…but no,” his eyes looked up in thought clearly trying to recall that day while you continued, “when we tried spicy foods, you ate all the food, I just sort of recommended and watched.”

Adam’s jaw dropped. 

“Oh that’s just terrible.”

“It’s fine,” you coughed out, throat hot, “it’s still delicious.”

“No, not the food. The fact that you are always being so kind to me, teaching me my likes and dislikes, and I clearly haven’t been paying any attention to you!”

“Oh please Adam…” you tried to brush off it wasn’t really a big deal.

“No it’s true. I don’t know your likes, your dislikes, I don’t even know you!” 

“You know me—“

Adam’s eyes turned into an intense shade of yellow before they practically lasered your plate into dust.

“How dumb must I be that I didn’t even notice you don’t like spicy food!”

Apparently this was hitting him a lot harder than you expected.

“That’s it…” you pushed your napkin to the side as you slammed your hands on the table standing up while you did so. That caused his own tantrum to pause.

 “You are not dumb! The fact that you say that infuriates me! You were just excited in trying new tastes that’s all.” 

It wasn’t much but that seemed to do the trick as his next words seemed less angry and more disappointed, “I’m just upset because I want to know you. I want to know your likes and dislikes. This whole time I thought we were getting closer but you’ve just been getting closer while I’ve been standing in the same exact spot.”

You hadn’t realized he felt so deeply about this—about you in that way. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t noticed things. 

“Just cause you don’t know my likes doesn’t mean you don’t know me. You know me Adam…” he still looked dejected, obviously upset about his lack of awareness. “Okay look, you can start learning things about me right now. Better late than never right?”

Adam pondered this over. “Plus you just found out something I don’t like, spicy food!”

His head shifted from side to side mulling this over before ultimately agreeing, “…okay,” he said, a sly smile sneaking its way onto his face.

“There we go, now that's a better attitude,” you grinned before your eyebrows pushed together suddenly focused on the burnt ash on the table. “I know you were upset but you didn’t have to go and burn the food you’ve made, it was still delicious.”

Adam’s smile turned into a more bashful one, “yeah it was a bit dramatic…But come on, let me make you something you will like.”

#adam warlock x reader #adam warlock fanfic #adam warlock fanfiction #adam warlock imagine #gotg x reader #gotg fanfiction #gotg imagine #gotg fanfic #guardians of the galaxy x reader #guardians of the galaxy imagine #guardians of the galaxy fanfic #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction

[dindjarin-mandalorian]

Broken Hearts and Laser Guns (Yondu x Reader)

A/N: This is one of several completed Yondu fics I wrote a few years ago and found sitting forgotten in a folder on my laptop a couple of months back, and I'm slowly making my way through them to get them all posted eventually. I'm not going to do much editing (just a glance-through to find glaring typos), and I feel like my writing has improved since then, but hopefully they'll be enjoyed. :)

Summary: Reader gets their heart broken and Yondu offers some advice.

Warnings: I don't think there are any, but if I've missed one, just let me know. It's a bit angsty due to a breakup, but nothing too intense.

You peeked your head around the door frame of one of the lounges in the Avengers compound, making sure no one was inside. Breathing a sigh of relief when you confirmed that it was indeed empty, you walked inside and collapsed on one of the couches, scrubbing your face with your hands.

You wanted nothing more than to go to your room, lock the door, and cry in private, but that was out of the question. You still had work to do and you didn’t want to let the rest of the team down just because you were heartbroken. You’d take a quick break to pull yourself together, and then try to focus on work for the rest of the day.

Dating someone who also worked in the compound had seemed like a good idea in the beginning, but after the breakup you quickly realized why it was, in fact, a terrible idea. You wished you could avoid your partner – well, ex-partner – completely, but knew you’d bump into them sooner or later. Sooner, with your luck.

You looked up toward the ceiling, doing your best to keep the tears from streaking down your cheeks. All you needed was for someone to find you crying in the lounge. The Avengers compound held a modicum of professionalism, but news about breakups and broken hearts traveled fast, and you really didn’t want to have to deal with any useless, however well-meant, sympathy from your co-workers.

You heard footsteps coming down the hallway and quickly brushed a couple of lingering teardrops from your bottom lashes, hoping that whoever it was didn’t come into the lounge.

A man strode past, glanced inside, then took a step back so he could lean against the door frame, a look of concern on his blue face. “Somethin’ wrong, Y/N?”

You shook your head and tried to muster a smile. “I’m fine, Yondu, thanks. What are you doing here?”

Yondu pushed away from the door frame with his shoulder, then joined you on the couch. “Me an’ Kraglin are gonna help out with a mission. Tha Avengers needed somebody who could get into some shady space ports, an’, well…”

He shrugged, flashing you a quick grin, and you gave him a small smile in return.

“Well, it’s good to see you.”

“You, too. But ya ain’t foolin’ me by sayin’ yer fine.” He nudged you with his arm. “Out with it.”

You sighed. You couldn’t say that you and Yondu were particularly close, but you’d spent time with him occasionally in the past when he and the other Guardians would show up at the compound for one reason or another.

And you had to admit, talking to someone who wouldn’t judge you sounded nice.

You took a steadying breath then said, “I got dumped today.”

You tried to brush it off with a shrug, but you felt your chin wobble and knew you weren’t going to make it through this conversation without crying. You avoided looking at Yondu’s face, and instead studied your boots, which were intensely interesting all of a sudden.

“Ah, damn. Hate ta hear that, Y/N. Their loss, though.”

You huffed a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, sure.”

“I mean it.”

You shook your head, still avoiding looking in his direction. “I just don’t understand what happened. I thought we were fine, you know?”

Your traitorous eyes began to leak again and you angrily brushed the tears away.

“Yeah, that always makes it harder, when it seems ta come outta nowhere.”

You gave a small nod, now focusing on your hands. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, and Yondu seemed to understand.

“Gotta say, I ain’t been dumped in a while, but that’s only ‘cause I ain’t been in a relationship in a while. Reckon I remember how bad it hurts, though.”

“It does.”

“Feels like tha world’s endin’ when ya lose someone.”

You nodded again, brushing another tear away.

“’Specially when ya don’t know what happened.”

“I just… don’t understand.” Something shifted and you couldn’t hold your tears in any longer. “What did I do wrong?”

“Sure ya didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

“Then why?” Your voice broke on a sob and you finally met his eyes. “Why wasn’t I good enough, Yondu?”

You began to cry in earnest, leaning forward and resting your face in your hands. You tensed up for a moment when Yondu draped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you to his side, then relaxed against him, giving in to the tears.

“Listen ta me, Y/N. Yer good enough, ya hear me? If they couldn’t see that, then that’s on them. Sometimes folks jus’ ain’t meant ta be together. Don’t mean somebody ain’t good enough, just means ya ain’t tha right fit.”

You cried harder. “But I thought we fit! I thought we were fine!”

“I ain’t gonna tell ya not ta cry. Cryin’s good fer ya, so ya do it as long as ya need to. But I am gonna tell ya that ya need ta get the ‘good enough’ thoughts outta yer head. They ain’t true an’ they won’t do no good.”

You were crying too hard to form a reply, so you nodded. You knew he was right, but it still hurt and you couldn’t help the feelings of not being good enough. Why else would someone break up a seemingly good relationship?

“An’ as fer fittin’ an’ bein’ fine, maybe y’all did fit at first, an’ then maybe things changed fer ‘em. Life gets in tha way of these things, changes people, ain’t got nothin’ ta do with you. Ya need ta let ‘em go, let ‘em do what they need ta do. Tryin’ ta hang onto these things never works. Won’t make ya happy.”

You tried to catch your breath as you continued to cry, and hoped you wouldn’t start to hyperventilate. That was all you needed to make things even more embarrassing.

“I… I know. But it just… just hurts so much.”

“I know it does, darlin’. Just gotta let it hurt. Gotta get through it. One day yer gonna wake up and be okay, though.”

You gave an unbelieving huff as you tried to stem your tears.

“Yeah, didn’t think ya’d believe me, but it’s true. Ya listen ta ol’ Yondu. He knows what he’s talkin’ about.”

You sat up and lifted your head to look at him, wiping more tears away and wishing you had a tissue. “When did you get so wise, Captain?”

He grinned. “Always been wise. Don’t know why ya ain’t realized it before now.”

You hiccuped a laugh and used your sleeve to dry your eyes, even as a few more tears trickled down your cheek. “You’ve been hiding all that Ravager knowledge, I guess.”

“Guess so.”

“Ugh, I wish I had a tissue.” You knew your eyes were red and swollen so there would be no hiding this crying session when you finally left the lounge, but you at least wanted your face to be dry when you met up with your teammates.

“Oh, here.” Yondu removed his arm from around you and reached into an inside pocket of his duster, pulling out a grimy handkerchief and handing it to you.

You took it from him and gave a small laugh through the last of your tears. “It’s… dirty.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a Ravager. Might be good with advice about a broken heart, but I ain’t ever got a clean handkerchief.”

You laughed again, a little louder, as you handed it back to him, then dabbed your eyes gently with the sleeve pulled up over your hand. “Thanks, but I’ll just keep using my sleeves.”

“Suit yerself.” He grinned as he stuck the dirty handkerchief back inside his pocket. “Listen, I got an idea. We’re gonna go blow off some steam.”

You shook your head. “I can’t. I have to get back to work.”

“Come on, Y/N, when’s tha last time ya took off?”

You thought for a minute and realized it had been months since you’d taken a day off. “It’s been a while,” you admitted.

“They can get along without ya fer one afternoon. Tell ‘em yer sick an’ let’s go.”

“I can’t just lie and say I’m sick! They’ll have me in the sick bay within the hour.”

“Ain’t a lie! Yer heartsick, an’ they can’t put ya in tha sick bay if ya ain’t here. Come on, send ‘em a comm.”

You bit your lip, considering your options. “Fine.”

His grin widened as he watched you pull out your phone and send a quick email to your supervisor. It was true, they could do without you for one afternoon. There weren’t any pressing matters to attend to, and it was Friday, after all.

You slipped your phone back into your pocket. “Done. So where are we going?”

Yondu stood and held out a hand to help you up. “It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t really like the sound of that.”

“C’mon, trust me.”

Even though you knew you probably shouldn’t, you did.

You followed him outside to the airspace, but stopped walking when you realized he was heading towards his ship.

He noticed you were no longer beside him and turned back to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Are we leaving Earth?”

“Yep.”

“I can’t just leave the planet.”

“Who says?”

Realizing there was literally no one who could stop you from leaving the planet – something that you thought might have been an oversight that someone should have already considered – you shrugged and caught up with him.

A few minutes later, you were sitting next to Yondu in the co-pilot’s chair of the Eclector. You’d never been in space before and could hardly believe you were here now.

“So where are we going?””

“Told ya, it’s a surprise.”

“Leaving the planet isn’t enough of a surprise?”

“Nope.”

An hour later, Yondu set the ship expertly down in a landing field full of other ships, and the two of you stepped out into a brightly lit town. Apart from the fact that the buildings were definitely not constructed by anyone from Earth, it almost felt like a bustling city back home.

You followed Yondu to a small building, painted in vivid colors, and walked inside as he held the door for you. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dimly-lit room, a contrast from all the brightness outside, and then you quickly caught up to Yondu as he strode to a counter on the other side of the room.

“Two, please.”

The man behind the counter, who had three eyes and whose skin was tinted a light purple, said, “Yes, sir. Will you require laser guns, or do you have your own?”

“Go ahead an’ give us a couple,” he said, sliding some credits across the counter.

The man nodded, reached under the counter and pulled out two laser guns, which he handed to Yondu. “You can go on in,” he said, indicating a door on the right. “The session isn’t full yet.”

“Thanks.”

Yondu handed one of the laser guns to you. “Ya ready?”

“For what?”

“Fer a laser gun battle.”

“Is this… is this like laser tag on Earth?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. General concept is tha same.”

“The general concept?”

“Yep.”

You stopped at the door. “Don’t we get the little vests with the targets?”

“Don’t need vests. We’re tha targets.”

“But how do we know who wins?”

“Whoever’s still standin’ at tha end.”

You looked at your laser gun in horror and spluttered, “Yondu, are these real laser guns?”

“’Course they are! Can’t protect yerself with fake ones.”

“Are you trying to get me killed? Because I guess that is a good way to make me forget about my broken heart.”

Yondu laughed. “Nah, we ain’t gonna die. I’ve seen ya at target practice, yer a natural. We ain’t got nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.”

“Yondu!”

“Ya really don’t wanna have a laser battle?”

“Not when the losers die!”

He grinned. “Fine. Then how ‘bout ice cream?”

You were speechless for a moment as you tried to comprehend his sudden shift from death in a laser gun battle to ice cream. “Ice cream sounds much… safer.”

“Then ice cream it is. I know this place over on -”

You raised a hand to stop him. “Can we please get ice cream back on Earth?”

He laughed. “You got it, darlin’.” Turning back to the man behind the counter, he asked, “Reckon we can get a refund on these guns?”

#yondu udonta fanfic #yondu x reader #yondu udonta x reader #yondu udonta #yondu #yondu fic #guardians of the galaxy fanfic #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #gotg fic #gotg #guardians of the galaxy

[fanficsandfluff]

Guardians of the Galaxy: Nice

Fandom: Guardians of the Galaxy

Character(s): Rocket, Peter Quill/Star Lord, Mantis, Drax, Nebula, Groot

A/N: I'M BACK. BACK IN THE NEW YORK GROOVE~~

No but seriously how the fuck is everyone!?!?

I am revisiting my Guardians phase and I couldn't be more happy to be here.

I will say very MINOR spoilers for Vol. 3, and this is supposed to take place after all those events transpired.

This was what I came up with from this anon's ask and I greatly appreciate you sending this in. Not so much tickling in this one, and it's definitely fluffy and sweet, so I still hope you enjoy!

It's been tumultuous. It's been frustrating. It's been hell at times, too.

But then Drax would sit next to him on the grated metal floor of the ship as he tinkered with something new, something helpful. It wouldn't take much. Just having Drax sitting with his too-big legs trying to criss-cross themselves, crunching on a zargnut or some other snack... hell, it should've annoyed the piss outta him. The stupid chewing noises, hearing his breath when he leaned in to get as close as possible with his face so his Kylosian eyes could see the intricacies of whatever was in Rocket's little pawed hands. It didn't annoy him, actually. No. The dummy was actually helping him immensely with his presence. And they wouldn't even need to talk. As long as Drax was near, sometimes scooting close enough that his knee rested in the crook of Rocket's side. That was nice...

Then the hell feelings would surface again, grumbles under his breath as the thoughts bubbled up.

And it would be Groot coming closer after keeping watch on Rocket for a short while, knowing just the time when he needed to step in. And usually when he waited long enough, Groot was itching to be playful. He was a whole lot bigger now. Bigger than he was before the Ronan incident. So his attempts at going for the chase were met with a gruff chuckle and grin from the raccoon almost instantly. Groot's big dumb tree trunks stomping around... it was humorous. And of course Rocket would try and hold out, or else what fun was there in the game? He'd slooowly walk in a circle with his friend, then scamper around when Groot happily hopped up and down from the excitement of the playing. Groot would extend his fingers, morphing them into thin, pliable branches and scratch and poke at Rocket when he could catch him. Eventually, though he'd never admit it if asked, Rocket would "let" himself get caught and Groot would scoop him up into his arms and it just felt nice.

Rocket would be stopped in his tracks, too, when he felt his heart tittering. Like it was fluttering a bit too extra at times, making his breathing difficult. This was a new development after being medpack'd back to life. Not life threatening, they debunked that theory early on. It was just a nuisance. But the limited ability to intake oxygen would sometimes send Rocket whirling again, back in time, back to the terrors...

And a boisterous laugh from down the hall and to the right, to Quill's personal area (though it's become less personal over the time his new family spent there and infiltrated the space. Rocket preferred it like it was now...). There Rocket would catch a glimpse of Peter and Mantis, sitting together, Mantis laughing at something. It was hard to tell with her. Most things that amused her amused Drax, so one could guess it'd be a stupid ass cause. Rocket's ears and nose would twitch, even his lips where a small smile was playing. Even though he thought he was out of sight, eavesdropping on the sibling to sibling moment, Peter would catch him standing there and beckon him over. And Rocket would go and sit between the two, heart murmur forgotten. Just smiles. And yeah yeah, shut your face, Rocket did sit between them on purpose, so he'd have comfort on either side. Moments like these were nice, too, man...

"Rocket."

With a few extra blinks, the raccoon was back in the present. Reminiscing became a very real hobby as of late, after the rescue, after the reunification. He'd go to these places easily, slipping away without any thought for what was happening around him here and now. But that was Pete saying his name, he knew that much.

"Wha?"

"You wanted a shot, too?"

Rocket looked down his snout at the array of rainbow liquids before him. He glanced over at Nebula, arms crossed. She looked sober. He gestured his head towards the spread, "You have any?"

"I was waiting for you."

Rocket smirked, "Fire me up one, barkeep," he slammed his little hand on the control table, their meetup/planning place that was now used to house the libations for their little party.

"Don't know if that's correct lingo, but let's go with it," Peter teased but poured shots for Nebula and Rocket.

And together, the group drank and the night began.

This was gonna be fun drunk. Not sad drunk. Lord knows Rocket couldn't stand sad drunk anymore, especially after watching Peter deteriorate after Gamora 1.

Come to find out, fun drunk brought out a very different side of Rocket.

The first sign most noticeable to everyone was the giggles. They were all highly familiar with Rocket's many fake laughs, loud laughs, derisive laughs... the whole gambit. If they were chatting and joking, Rocket would lose himself in a stream of giggles, higher and more innocent than anything the family was used to. But it was contagious, considering the rest of them were also quite tipsy.

While the whole troupe picked up on that, Nebula was the first one to notice all the touching. Not being one for affection, the only touching she'd bestow or want to have would consist of pushing or punching. But Rocket was sidling up to everyone at any chance he had.

When he was sitting on a bench next to Peter as they were listening to Drax try to tell some outlandish, very-serious-not-funny-at-all story, Rocket would be nearly passing out from wheezing at trying to hold back all the laughs he had bubbling up from Drax's horrible speech, and he'd be nuzzling and pressing his head all into Peter's arm and side. The Terran would be in the same state, rosy-cheeked and littered with repressed snorts and giggles. The two of them together were not a good mix for trying to keep straight faces. Finally, Drax picked up on the boys' restraint and Peter lost it, sliding down in his seat, nearly falling completely off the bench. And Rocket was practically laying in Peter's lap, now also in hysterics.

Nebula was pouring herself another drink and Rocket stumbled up to her, pressing his hand against her knee, "Hey."

"What?"

"Hey--pfft," Rocket was snickering again.

Nebula rolled her eyes but paused her drink selection to look down at Rocket, who was now feeling the fabric of her pant leg with both paws. See? Again, the touching.

"Rocket, if this is something idiotic--"

"I'snot! No no no, it's not. Promise," even through slurred words, Nebula had to admit she was intrigued.

"Then what? Did you want a drink?"

"Nnno-- well wait yeah, actually, if you wouldn't mind-- But no! So! They were askin'--" he lifted one of his hands off her leg to gesture in the vague direction of the rest of the group, huddled up together with all their eyes on Nebula and Rocket, waiting for the ball to drop. Idiots.

"Are you--? Do ya think you're ticklish?" Rocket asked finally, another one of those light giggles slipping out.

Nebula glanced over at the group with one of her death stares, and they all tried to feign innocence.

"Do I look like I'm ticklish?"

Rocket now lifted both hands off her and used them to shrug, "I dunno, I was just askin'..."

"You can tell them no. And not to try or I'll strap them with Nova Core-strength batteries and feed them to Mantis's Abilisks."

Rocket scoffed, starting to walk away slowly, "Geeheez, alright... No need to be so 'Nebula' 'bout it. I don't mind it, so I guess I just don't get why you're bein' so defensivitious..."

And there he was making new words up again. But Nebula didn't let go of the one very important tidbit slurred in the middle of the nonsense ramble. He didn't mind it.

More of the night passed and they were nearing the sloppy, lovey dovey drunk phase of the night.

"I love you guys," Mantis was the one with the turn to spew her love speech. They found out Mantis had a hard time getting drunk, so throughout the night Drax and Peter would let her touch them so she could feel a little of what they were feeling, "Like... I'm just a worm..." uh oh, "A little teeny--bitsy worm and you all made me bloom."

"You're nohohot a worm, Mant," Rocket chuckled, laying down with his head in Drax's lap and his feet propped up on Nebula's.

"I thought you were a larvae," Drax pointed out.

"Was," Mantis corrected, her antennae drooping with the brief recollection of Ego, "But now I'm a butterfly!" she even waved her arms in the air to prove her point.

"Wouldn't you just be... a mantis? A praying mantis?" Peter now inquired, scrunching his face like this took a whole lot of energy.

"A what?" Mantis asked.

"Forget it.." Peter didn't want Mantis to have an existential crisis over whether or not she was a butterfly. So for tonight, yes, she was a beautiful butterfly.

"I love you losers, too," Rocket took his turn, his eyes closed and his words honestly barely audible since it looked like he was getting drunker and sleepier by the second, "I love you for all you do for me. For this."

By 'this,' everyone assumed the party.

Rocket rolled over on his side and his tail flicked, "For... you know... whenever you... like you pet me. Or just take care of me..."

The room was quiet, save for Peter's music playing on low volume through the ship's speakers. All eyes were on Rocket.

"I thought you hated being pet," Pete pointed out, a moment of sobriety coming through.

Rocket blinked his eyes back open as if he was again being brought back to the present. What did he say? He liked being pet?

"Well yeah..." the raccoon sat up now, removing his body parts from Drax and Nebula, like he was now becoming aware that he was laying on them at all.

"But that's not what you said just now," Mantis said.

"No. No, I-I--"

"I've pet you before. When you were sad," Drax said next, "It was natural to do, since you are built for petting."

"Okay--"

"I am Groot."

"What!?" everyone in the room exclaimed in unison.

If Rocket was human, he'd be beet red by now. He tried running away from the situation, literally. But Nebula grabbed his arm, not in a rude or demeaning way. Her touch was gentle. Shit, just what he needed right now, more gentle touch...

"You like when we're... affectionate," it was even hard for her to get the word out.

"Everyone likes hugs and nuzzles--" Mantis threw in, ready to list a whole bunch of things when Nebula cut her off.

"... and tickles," she was sporting another oddity: a kind smile.

"Groot..." Rocket growled, eyeing his friend for outing him like that. He wanted to crawl into the evac chamber and be shot into space.

"He didn't have to say it," Nebula pointed out to save Groot some heartache, "You told me earlier."

"I think I'm gonna go to bed now," Rocket tried to get his arm free, "And for the record, I'm drunk. I never heard any of this."

"Rocket," Peter began, "You know that if we knew you liked all that stuff, we'd do it more."

"Please stop talking.."

"Don't be embarrassed," Mantis pouted.

"I think there could be far worse things to be embarrassed about," Drax added, "Even though I don't quite know what that means."

"We love you for who you are," Peter even stood up from his seat and walked closer to where Rocket was still being held by Nebula's hand, "So stop thinking you're inconveniencing us or-or that you don't care..."

"It's a privilege to make you happy, Rocket," Nebula said, her voice soft.

Rocket stood still, with Pete now kneeling to be more at eye-level with him and Nebula holding his wrist. His brown eyes glanced around at his friends-- scratch that, his family. What a stupid way to have this conversation. A bunch of drunk idiots confessing their love.

"I 'ppreciate it, fellas..." Rocket spoke. He nodded his head, making sure to have eye contact with everyone there to know he loved them back, even though this turned very awkward.

When Rocket felt Nebula let go of him and he figured he was finally allowed to leave, Peter surprised him by grabbing him in a hug and holding him close. Rocket sighed and patted Pete's shoulder, not so much reciprocating the hug because he just felt weird about it all now. But it was nice-- oh fuck, here we go...

Drax carefully pet the top of his head between his ears, and they twitched and sank to give away their enjoyment of the act. Nebula extended her metal arm and scratched under Rocket's chin, grinning. Rocket huffed and moved his head, but damn that also felt good... and Pete still didn't let go of him... So Mantis came over and practically threw herself on top of him and Peter so she could join in the hug. Rocket heard Pete chuckle and felt the rumble in his chest since he was that close to his friend.

Lastly Groot joined in, wrapping his growing branches and limbs around the whole group sitting there in a huddle.

"Bunch of idiots..." Rocket said with heavy sentiment. He succumbed to the hugs and pets and scritches because dammit he really frickin' liked it all.

Rocket felt some prodding into his sides and he snickered into Pete's shoulder, "Groohoot..." he warned, knowing the familiar feeling too well.

"What'd he do?" Peter asked.

Again, Rocket felt the prods and new light scratches. His small body shook with unlaughed laughs. He recognized the tone in Pete's voice and knew it wasn't Groot poking at him. So he had to defend himself. Rocket's claws dug into the expanse of flesh that was Peter's ribs and the whole hug pile disintegrated as Peter screamed and cackled and writhed his way out of there.

"I am Groot!"

"Damn right I can dish it out, too!" Rocket grinned.

What soon tumbled into a massive tickle fight ended with Rocket in near tears of mirth, all his family and friends gently messing with little parts of him.

This was a new one to go into that memory bank of his.

A real, genuine nice moment.

#guardians of the galaxy #gotg #guardians of the galaxy fanfic #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #rocket raccoon #rocket #peter quill #drax the destroyer #drax #groot #nebula #mantis #ticklish!rocket #ticklish!peter #ticklish!peterquill #mcu #guardians #fluff #rocket raccoon fluff

[theycallmequeenie]

Yondu X Reader Part 6

Master List

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6:

A\N: AS always I did not create the Gif I do not posses those skills I used the gif search bar. If you are the creator of any of the gifs I've used and would like to to Gove you proper credit please let me know and I will edit to tag you for the credit. I know I’ve been gone forever and I’m getting flakier and flakier and at this point I’m truly surprised if anyone still follows any of my stories. Again, I apologize the headspace has been utter garbage and I’m fighting as hard as I can to get content written and posted if only, I could get the headspace and the family to cooperate at the same time that would be wonderful. After all that rambling, here’s the story, enjoy and happy reading. 

Yondu began to talk to Y\N trying to calm her anxiety that seemed to spike out of nowhere in the middle of the night taking her hand from his thigh and bringing it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on the back of it before placing it over his heart.

“Darlin’ I don’t know what’s got you fretting all of a sudden, but I want you to listen to me. As long as that heart right there is beating you ain’t ever gotta worry ‘bout nothin’ getting you in the night. I promise you that.”

Yondu, as gently as he could, pulled Y/N to his chest and slowly rocking her back and forth trying to calm her as quickly as possible. He didn’t know what she may have been through, but he knew it had to have been something terrible to have her this out of sorts from simply being in a different bed than her own. Why hadn’t she realized yet that she and the boy were the two safest ones on that ship as long as he was around. Yondu would rather sacrifice his own life than to ever let either or those two get hurt in any way, shape, or form. 

If Y/N questions, her safety still after being on his crew for this long, could something have happened with them or was this something from her life back on Terra messing with her still? Yondu made a mental note to try and ease her into opening up as to why she had this reaction later when she was actually awake enough to delve into potential past traumas. 

Yondu managed to get her calmed and back to sleep within about an hour of her waking as she had, and it was a restful rest of the night. As the day started it came with the sounding of alarms to wake and get to work on the ship. More maintenance for the ship and caring for Peter he was still young and needed taught the basics or everyday life all be it not the everyday life that was expected by him and Y/N. 

Yondu carefully woke Y/N and handed off her daily Ravager attire of her denim coveralls with the Ravager emblem over the part that rests over her heart and the pants and plain white tee she wore under them. She offered a small smile as she took them and hurried off to the captain’s bathroom to ready herself for the day.

Once dressed she left the captain’s quarters, checked in on Peter, and started on her daily tasks. She did her best to avoid Yondu all day and for the most part she was successful until it came time for the nightly meal. 

Yondu basically cornered her asking her why she had been avoiding him all day to which she tried to get away without responding. She wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened the night before and was going well out of her way to avoid it. She just wasn’t ready for that particular conversation with Yondu. She thought if he knew what caused her to wake the way she did in his bed he would see her as ‘soft’ and that would be the end of their relationship. Something she wasn’t ready for, nor did she want. 

Yondu decided to let her avoid their conversation at that moment but was determined to at least find out what had happened last night that she had woken up so terrified. He left her eat and socialize like she normally would, but he watched her closely. Waiting for her to decide to call it a night and retire to her quarters for the night after making sure the boy was in for the night. Once she had tucked the boy in then Yondu would make his move and get her to talk to him. 

Yondu was waiting outside of Peter’s quarters for Y/N to finish up the boy’s nightly bedtime routine. A fact that Y/N was unaware of until she exited Peter’s room. Upon realizing Yondu was waiting for her startled her which caused her to let out a little yelp of surprise before greeting him.

“You surprised me Cap. Wasn’t expecting you to be lurking just outside the door, Sir.” She spoke barely loud enough to be heard by him and made no efforts to make eye contact. She wasn’t entirely up for the conversation she knew was about to be had but she knew Yondu was like a bulldog with a bone when he wanted answers.

“Well Darlin’, you’ve done an excellent job of avoiding me today and I needed to talk witcha ‘bout las night…” He stopped and gave her a knowing look he had a feeling this was going to be a hard conversation to have with Y/N, but he needed to confirm his theories about his love. Deep down he wanted to be worried over nothing more than a simple bad night but something in his gut told him there was more to it. He really hoped it wasn’t as bad as he feared.

With a sigh Y/N nodded and agreed to talk with him only in his private quarters as to not risk the rest of the crew overhearing the conversation. She motioned to Yondu to lead the way back to his room as she was clearly not in any hurry to have that conversation.

Her childhood was the one thing that she never talked about. It wasn’t a good experience and not something she enjoyed revisiting. It was a harsh reminder that she was damaged goods. A fact her father would remind her of almost daily. Y/N was starting to feel the anxiety build at the thought of telling Yondu what caused that nightmare the night prior. The fear of her father’s words ringing true was weighing heavily on her. What if they were true what if once Yondu finds out about how damaged she was and decided he wasn’t interested in her anymore because the trauma was too much to deal with on top of everything else on his shoulders. What if he agreed with Y/N’s father, that she was in fact completely unlovable…

To Be Continued…

@capitanostella

Part 7

#queeniesmusings #queenie writes #fan fiction #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy fandom #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #yondu udonta fanfiction #yondu fanfic #yondu udonta x reader #yondu imagines #yondu fanfiction #yondu fic #yondu imagine #yondu udonta imagine #yondu x reader #yondu udonta fic #yondu udonta #yondu x Y/N #yondu udonta x Y/n #yondu x reader insert #happy reading

[kitcat992]

Tony had absolutely no trouble tracking down Rhodey, and subsequently the Space Oddity Squad in tow — who seemed to have boldly embarked on a full-scale mission to colonize his compound.

Even if he hadn’t been able to pin-point their location so quickly, it was far too easy to follow the lively tempo of electronic rock music blaring at volumes only he ever dared to use, reserved strictly for his soundproof workshops. 

                                                    ♫ Sun is shinin' in the sky                                                                                         There ain't a cloud ♫                                                                                       in sight ♫

Tony managed to reach the top of the staircase that led into the lounge a whole whopping second before Peter — an impressive feat, considering Peter’s hyperactive impatience to lead the way. He could actually feel the inside of his eardrums vibrating from the sound overhead, the beat of drums and synthesized piano keys so loud that it practically shook the banister railing. 

“What the hell is this music?”

It shouldn’t have been his first question. 

No, Tony’s first question should’ve been asking why a man more muscular than the great Captain America was bent over the kitchen sink; eating hummus dip with his bare fingers, all while looking positively repulsed by the food — only to go back for more, this time making the serving size bigger than the last.

Or better yet, he could’ve asked why the young girl with antenna’s on her head was jumping childishly from one sofa to another, springing each leap like it was a dramatic climb to Mount Everest — with high-pitched giggles, to boot. Giggles that he swore matched the activity of her antenna’s, moving freely on her forehead with a glow as dim as the afternoon sun shining through ceiling skylights. 

Hell, it wouldn’t have even hurt to ask why the green-skinned woman, sitting casually on the only armchair in the lounge, was using a goddamn sword the size of her arm to slice through individual pieces of almonds — eating one half of an almond for herself, and handing off the second half to the tiny tree perched on her shoulder. 

Tony furrowed his brows, watching as the tiny tree’s limbs — legs? — dangled with a breezy innocence, both small hands holding onto the piece of almond as he went in for a large bite. With wooden covered eyes closing shut, his tiny head bobbed along to the beat of the music, all while he happily chewed away on the nuts given to him.

On Tony’s ever growing list of concerns, Natasha’s stash of unsalted almonds suddenly ranked the lowest.

Using the banister as a standing perch, Tony leaned his back against the metal railing while he surveyed the energetically charged room.

“It’s my tunes, man!” Of all people to answer his question — Tony noticed that Rhodey was blatantly ignoring him with a painfully obvious cold shoulder — it was the man across the room, dancing freely and without any care, who wound up providing an answer. “Mr. Blue Sky, Electric Light Orchestra, 1977!”

Quill pointed to the ceiling with one hand while the other showed off a small rectangle device Tony barely made out as a music player. He furrowed his brows, tightly. The word ‘outdated’ didn’t do the poor technology justice. 

“I got your thing to play my thing, and your thing plays it so much better — listen to that volume, I can’t even get the Benatar to sound that crisp!” Quill spun on his feet with a carefree twist, clapping his hands all at the same time. “And hey, now that we’re all here, everyone’s game to jam like a band — how sweet is that!?”

Tony swore he heard the crack in his neck when he shot his head up to the ceiling. 

“FRIDAY—”

“Sorry, boss,” FRIDAY knew to apologize just by Tony’s tone, adding a bit of contrition to her own artificial voice along the way. Almost immediately, she lowered the volume of music down to a somewhat reasonable level. “My protocols were overridden by—”

“You’re gunna play like that?” Tony pointed a sharp finger across the room, where sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop and paperwork surrounding him was Rhodey; looking every bit displeased as he did on the video call minutes earlier.

In fact, Rhodey’s deadpanned expression only intensified as he met Tony’s finger with a heated glare — seen only in fragmented snapshots as Mantis hopped sofa-to-sofa, obstructing his otherwise clear line of sight.

“Weeee!" Mantis cheered as she made one leap larger than the last. "This is so much fun!” 

Tony was forced to stare at her just to catch a glimpse of Rhodey in-between each jump, and vice-verse for Rhodey, who only managed to look even more disgruntled with each jump she took.

Mantis remained oblivious to them both.

#fanfic #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #spider-man fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #irondad #peter parker & tony stark #peter parker tony stark #spider-man #iron man #peter parker #tony stark #steve rogers #captain america #avengers #found family #found family avengers #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #peter/gamora #tony/pepper

[raccoonfallsharder]

rocket raccoon prompt week ✷ day six bite ✷.⁺⋆˚₊

low-grade spice & fluff | no use of yn | gn reader | minific | word count: 2,266.

“That’s — a big frickin’ scar you got there.”

Your eyes flare wide and you twist in your seat so fast you nearly spin off it, staring at the stranger who has just hoisted himself onto the barstool next to you. Not because you recognize the voice — you don’t yet, though you will — but just because it’s such a personal remark.

And you’re a little bit sensitive about the scar, if you’re being honest. It’s something of a souvenir.

Then recognition clicks in. Because there he is: short. Covered in fur. Velveteen ears and a dark mask, and a plush ringtail that sweeps behind him. Eyes like red stars.

Cutie.

You stare at him, breath sucked right out of your lungs. He’s got hesitation scrawled and sprawled all over his face: ears flicking down and tail lashing once, nervously. His claws clink against his massive, nearly-empty stein of Xitarish whiskey. 

You tear your eyes away and stare down at the ring of pearly ridges stitched into your arm — like maybe there were answers carved into your flesh there all along, and you’d just never noticed. Or like each toothmark is a lodestar, and together the circle of them can help get you home. 

“Isn’t it rude? To comment on a stranger’s scars?” you breathe out, trying to buy yourself time as all the pieces begin falling together. 

He blinks at you, and shifts uncomfortably. “Uh, Jemiah.” He gestures at the owner of The Boot, who just so happens to be your boss. “Next drink’s on me.”

“Sure thing, Rocket,” Jemiah says warmly — far more warmly than you’ve ever heard from him before. 

You feel your eyes flare wide. “You’re Rocket?” you manage to utter, eyes scrolling up and down him again. “One of the people who bought this damn skull? The pilot — the Guardian of the Galaxy or whatever?”

Somehow he looks even more uncomfortable. “Guardians of the Galaxy. Plural. We’re — a team.”

You exhale slowly — measuredly — and try to loosen all the small feathers of confusion crowding up your head, downy-soft. And as you let go of all those wisps, adrenaline rushes in to take their place: the intoxication of suddenly seeing him. Meeting him — for real this time. Having a name to put with the memory. 

Your smile blows wide. You can’t help yourself. 

“The cutie has a team,” you murmur under your breath, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks when his eyes sharpen on you. He shifts on his stool, but his shoulders relax a little, and the corner of his mouth twitches. 

“Don’t listen to him, Jemiah,” you call out. “His drink’s on me.”

Your boss ducks to hide his grin even as the cutie in question — Rocket, you think, with a pleased little grin — grimaces. “Wait—“ he starts.

You click your tongue and shake your head, cutting him off and grinning. “Not a chance. You bought this stupid skull out from under the Collector and made it a tolerable place to live? There’s no way you’re buying the drinks. I have to show my gratitude somehow.”

You drop your lids to half-mast and raise a brow, hoping he knows that you’re happy to show your gratitude in a few other ways as well. The risk of offering brings a nervous little buzz to your belly. 

As for him — well, you get the sense that he’s a guy who doesn’t let himself flounder very often, but right now his face is flickering between so many emotions that you can’t possibly catch them all. Shock, and then a brief flash of something like smugness, followed immediately by a flash of narrow-eyed skepticism — then a sort of uncertain hesitance, a brief twinge of humor, and finally, a cynical half-sneer. Then he starts right back at the beginning and does it all over again.

It’s fascinating.  

“Did you know,” you say slowly when Jemiah sets down the fresh drinks, “that I work here at The Boot?”

The stranger — no longer a stranger, you suppose; no longer just the cutie — no, Rocket pauses in his cycle of expressions, takes a slug of his new stein of whiskey, and shakes himself out. 

Where the hell does he put it? you wonder. The stein is as big as his whole torso, you think.

But he doesn’t seem buzzed at all. Instead, he casts you a measuring, sideways glance, entirely too alert for your tastes. 

“You don’t say,” he drawls at last, one brow raised as his spine eases a little more.

“Mmhmm,” you say mildly. “It’s my day off.” You pause meaningfully and take another sip of your own drink. “Didn’t used to get days off in Exitar. Or anywhere else on Knowhere, as a matter of fact.”

His eyes track your hands, and flick to your face. 

“Guess the difference is all thanks to you,” you tell him lightly, and tilt your glass toward him. “Here’s to the happy change in leadership.”

He studies you, and waits till you set your drink down again. 

“So. Uh. How long you worked here?” he asks — as if he didn’t already have at least some idea.

You grin into your glass. “Long enough to have developed a very strict set of rules for my survival.”

His ears flick. You’re glad he’s indulging you — playing along for now. “What’re the rules?”

You lean back. “I’m glad you asked,” you tease, and splay out one hand so you can count them on your fingers. “Number one. Avoid the Collector at all costs.”

He snorts. “Well, guess you’re not a complete idiot,” he mutters, and then slashes his red-amber eyes at you and flinches, like he thinks maybe you’re going to be offended. 

But you only wink at him. Not a chance, cutie.  “Number two. Never hide all your units in one place — or on one datacard.”

A smirk curls the corner of his mouth and his nose twitches.

“Three. Always lock your doors behind you. And four, Don’t walk home alone from the Boot.” The smirk slides off his face at that and his eyes flash, so you rush along to the next rule, hoping to lighten the mood again. “Five. Always get customers’ money before you hand them their booze.”

There you go. The little curve is back at the corner of his mouth, even if his brow is still furrowed — almost like he’s distressed. 

You lean sideways and nudge him with your elbow. “And finally, number six.” He looks up at you and his ears tilt, eyes locked on yours like glimmering red stones. You lean so close you know your breath will flutter in the curve of his ear, and you drop your voice to a whisper. “Don’t try to break up fights.”

The pilot rears back, nearly tumbling backward off his stool, and you reach for him before you both catch yourselves. Reeling your outstretched hand back into yourself, you instead gift him a reckless grin and turn to your drink once more.

“It’s not a comprehensive list,” you tell him pragmatically, “and it isn’t in any particular order, but it’s kept me alive this long.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Rocket says, and his voice is suddenly raspy and low. “Even that last one?”

The laughter surprises you, fluttering up behind your ribs and escaping between your lips, soft  and velvety and hushed. 

“I only broke that one once,” you tell him, lifting your glass to your mouth and half-hiding your grin behind it. You can tell your eyes are sparkling, though. “And it’s not like I ever regretted it.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Sounds like you got a story.”

“Mmm,” you acknowledge, and you keep your voice playful. “It was years ago, now. I knew all the regulars back then — well, I still do, but more of them were jackasses back in the day. And this guy comes in — someone I’d never seen before. Swaggering, carrying a cannon twice as big as himself. Maybe — three feet tall? A true Short King.”

He’s got his stein to his lips and he chokes on a mouthful of whiskey, sputtering. “A what?”

You ignore him, still casting him that teasing half-smile and raising an eyebrow. “He had pretty eyes, and I remember him being more foulmouthed than a landlocked Ravager.”

“Pretty — what?” 

“Keep up, Rocket,” you taunt lightly, tapping a finger to the air just an inch away from the top of his nose, and his eyes go narrow. Everything on his face is suddenly promising retribution, but you’re reckless with glee now.

And you’ll be happy to pay up if he actually comes to collect. 

“I told him that I needed payment up front when he ordered—“

“Get the money before you hand them their booze,” he echoes Rule Five, eyes still hunting you, and you nod with mock-approval. 

“You get it,” you say with a chuckle. “Anyway, his response was just to swipe another patron’s datacard right in front of me and hand it over.” You can still fucking see it: his challenging half-grin, one brow raised.  “I think I stared at him for a full thirty seconds, but this cutie just smirked up at me. Brazen as fuck.”

You laugh softly at the memory, and Rocket — who might as well be your new landlord, you’ve realized — grumbles something under his breath. 

“Anyway, I was kinda smitten,” you admit with a little curve in your mouth, still buzzing the inside of your belly. 

It’s the truth, too.  You’d never thought that raccoon can get it before, but there you were. 

And here you are. 

To your surprise, Rocket goes quiet at that. The pilot of the famous — or infamous — Guardians of the Galaxy, and one of the new owners of Knowhere: still and silent for a long moment. 

Maybe he’ll slip out of his chair and leave, you think, and the flutters in your belly twist in sudden regret. Maybe you’ve scared him off. 

But when he speaks, his voice is like crystallized maple syrup: rich and gritty, waiting to crumble and melt and scrub against your skin.

“He’s why you got into a fight?”

You weigh out your options here. What to say? You’d lost sight of the cutie thanks to his height and the constant surge of new customers, and you’d sort of forgotten about him in the moment, to be honest — though you’re sure you’d have remembered later, alone in your shitty little room — but then you’d heard the sudden cacophonous boom of his enormous augmented cannon. There’d been screaming and crashing, and you’d woven yourself  between the bodies toward the sound. Just to assess, just to figure out what kind of danger you’d been in—

Fucking B’darl — the worst of your regular patrons — had entered into view and suddenly hoisted the cutie right up into the air before slamming him down into the orloni fighting ring. 

You hadn’t thought about it — about anything, really — just thrown yourself through the crowd, toward the fighting ring. By the time you’d gotten there, B’darl had the cutie pinned to the miniature arena’s floor by the throat.  Both the orloni and the f’saki had cowered back, blood-soaked and wounded, from the sudden interference in their battle-to-the-death. 

Looks like you wandered outta the ring, the fucking brute had sneered.Time to go back to brawling with the other vermin, you little monster. 

B’darl had lifted his other fist, easily the size of your entire head.

My money’s on the f’saki, though. 

You’d surged between them without thinking, latching onto B’darl’s massive forearm, knocking his fist to one side.

You shrug. “It was worth it,” you tell Rocket mildly, and take another sip of your drink.

His eyes drop to the ring of teethmarks in your arm again. He opens his mouth to speak, and you cut in.

“My own fault,” you tell him. “I should’ve known the cutie could handle himself. I got in the way.”

You can still remember how his firelight-eyes had stared up at you from behind a mouthful of flesh and blood, stunned and maybe horrified, teeth sunk almost to the bone.  In a worse timeline, maybe you’d have tried to rip your arm away. But here, in this one, you’d curled around him instinctively. Protectively. 

And then he’d reached around you smoothly and snagged B’darl’s ion pistol, and you’d heard the gun go off as he’d squeezed the trigger, blind.

“My only regret is that I lost sight of him in the aftermath,” you tell him with a shrug. You try for a teasing smile but it suddenly feels strained, tense on your mouth. You’d been too flushed with adrenaline when you’d first started this conversation. Now, suddenly, the nerves are present: rattling and twitching behind your sternum. Your fingers shake a little and you clamp them onto your glass. “Didn’t even catch his name.” 

He doesn’t say anything, and you squeeze your eyes shut. When you finally get the fluttering in your vagus nerve under control, you hazard a look up at him. 

His eyes are on your forearm though: the circle of silken raised marks, just three shades lighter than the rest of your skin, and strangely — almost prettily — translucent. His finger reaches out: dark and clawed, his touch like warm leather. You go so still that you can’t blink, can’t even breathe as he paints a ring of warmth on your skin, looping the circlet of scars onto his fingertip like pearls threaded on a string.

The flutters are back, full-force. 

Slowly, Rocket drags his gaze up to yours, sunset-eyes glowing.  “Cutie works.”

@hibatasblog deserves so much more & better than this little ficlet but i am dedicating it to them anyway because they regularly call rocket "short king" and i cannot get it out of my head. deepest love to them & all their writing (please do yourselves a favor and check out their ao3 fics if you have not already)

look i just feel like (1) rocket is a cutie and if you say it in the right tone, he'll be flattered enough to not kill you and (2) there's no way he'd ever forget the stranger who jumped into a fight on his behalf — and probably got scarred for it — back before he met the guardians. which is when the og encounter takes place fyi. forget about the fact that i don't think we know if he had ever been there before gamora brought them along — i headcanon that where two or more lowlifes gather, so too there is rocket.

sidenote oh my god i literally cannot stop with the increasing wordcount. day seven (when i eventually get around to it) is gonna be SHORT. it's a promise/challenge to myself. anyway i think my writing quality peaked with machinery and i'm sorry this is so late

day five. machinery. ✷ day seven. home. rocket prompt week masterlist ✷ main masterlist rocket raccoon prompt week list

taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips

#rocketraccoonpromptweek #rfh fluff #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon fanfiction #gotg fanfiction #rfh fanfic #gotg rocket #rocketraccoon #rocket gotg #drabbles #rocket raccoon x you #rocket x you #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #rocket racoon x reader #rocket x reader #gotg rocket x reader #gotg x reader #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Drawing chaos; Peter Quill x toddler reader

*Author’s note*

So this comes from @white-wolf-buckaroo​ who I thank for being sooooo patient with me and I hope this is the continuation you were looking for. After seeing the Groot shorts on Disney+ the Magnum Opus short was BIG inspiration for this fic so I hope you as well as all my readers enjoy this little drabble.

No warnings just some pure, unadulterated fluff.  This can be served as a sequel to this story here.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

@gay-and-ready-to-cry​

@austynparksandpizza​

_______________________________________________________

It had been four years since the Guardians had found little (Y/n) and to say their lives had changed well—it definitely had its fill of surprises.  Like the one time when they were on a mission in Tamaran to stop a Leviathan attack and (Y/n) (who had just started learning how to walk) had gotten out of the ship and while completely and blissfully unaware of the dangers on the planet, walked through the forests of Tamaran and nearly got eaten by an alien plant.  Of course Rocket managed to spot her and get her out of there.

Or the time when she was three and her father Peter had to stay behind on a mission because he had injured his arm pretty badly.  Though he enjoyed spending time with his daughter, he almost had a heart attack when they were playing a game of hide and seek and he couldn’t find her anywhere. It took over 2 hours of him having a panic attack searching every nook and cranny of the Milano but he couldn’t find her.

Only to have the team come back, yell at him before helping to find her until Gamora saw that she had slipped under Peter’s bed and had fallen asleep.  Of course as soon as Peter saw how cute she looked asleep, he couldn’t stay mad at her and took her back to her room (but he did give her a lecture about scaring him like that again).

Now at four years old, (Y/n) could walk and talk and she seemed fully invested in her world of the Milano.  She was especially good friends with Groot, or Baby Groot, again. Yep, another incident had made Groot burn up and he had once again become Baby Groot.  And of course when you get a baby as mischievous as Baby Groot and a curious toddler like (Y/n) Quill, things can get a bit chaotic.

The Guardians were out cruising through the galaxy when both (Y/n) and Baby Groot had decided to make something for their dads. Together the two of them got the supplies they needed to make their drawings.

They got to lounge room where they had their meals, coffee breaks or wanted to take some time away from the others.  (Y/n) and Baby Groot set down their supplies and set down their papers.  Groot began to white out the ALFIE comic book cover he had taken from Quill’s collection while (Y/n) was using an old page torn out of a Laskavarian translation book.

Groot then used some glue and placed it not only on the paper but also on the tail hair he had cut from Rocket’s tail.  While (Y/n) used her markers to draw her pictures.

“I am Groot.” He said to her.

“No my picture will be better.”

“I am Groot!”

“No mine!” (y/n) stuck her tongue out at Groot before returning to her drawing and Groot back to his.  (Y/n) capped her red marker before picking up the green one next and drew the next person she was going to draw.  She then looked up to see Groot holding her father’s boot which had his rocket propeller. “Hey that’s daddy! He wouldn’t like you using that.”

“I am Groot.”

“You better or I’m gonna tell on you.”

“I am Groot.” He mumbled before placing the broken shades over his face and activating the rocket boosters and placed it over his picture to draw off the glue.  After a while their pictures were almost done when Groot got the idea for how to get glitter.

He placed one of Rocket’s makeshift bombs on top of a green glittering hard drive Groot had pulled from the ship and then took him and (Y/n) out of the room with the detonator.

“I am Groot.”

“No I wanna push it.”

“I am Groot!”

“You can push it.”

“I am Groot.”

“No you push it.”

“I. Am. Groot.”

“Okay, I will.” She had tricked him thanks to an old gag she had seen on a cartoon show.  Groot gawked at her then pouted as she hovered her finger over the big red button before she pressed it and the room exploded loudly.  After the smoke cleared and the massive wave og glitter than shot out of the room had fallen to the floor, the two kids raced back inside with their pictures to use the glitter as they saw fit.

Suddenly Groot almost tripped over a large hole that had been made in the ground by the bomb.

“Uh-oh.” Said (y/n).  Groot pondered before racing over to the cabinet drawers and pulled out a roll of duct tape.  He raced back over and pulled apart the tape and together the two kids tried to patch the hole up before anybody noticed.

Walking through the hallway was Quill as he looked around with both a curious but worried look.  All day he hadn’t been able to find (y/n) and he knew she wasn’t playing another game of hide and seek.  For one thing she hadn’t finished her lunch which was odd because (much like her dad) she never leaves food behind.

He came into the engine room where Rocket was doing some repairs to the control panels that had been acting up and glitching on his side of the ship, preventing him from taking control of the ship when he wanted to.

“Hey Rocket.” Peter called out.  Rocket peeked out from the floor and lifted up his goggles holding both a hammer and blowtorch in each hand.

“What do you want Quill? Can’t you see I’m very busy fixing up my ship.”

“Uhh first of all it’s my ship. And second, you hadn’t seen (Y/n) or Groot around have you?”

“I’ve been down here doing repairs Quill, hadn’t seen hair nor twig of em.”

“Well I haven’t either and I’m starting to get worried.”

“Alright, alright. If it’ll keep your pants on, let’s see if we can’t find them.” Rocket said lifting himself up from the floor, set down his tools and took the goggles off.

The two of them walked along the hallways when they felt the room shake as well as the big boom that sounded off.

“Oh no.” they both said worriedly as they both took off running.  As they turned left, they saw that the room that lead into the lounge area had gone up in smoke and the fire alarm was blaring off. “Groot! (Y/n)!”

“(Y/n) can you hear me!?” Peter called out.

“Groot are you dead!!” Rocket exclaimed as they looked around frantically for both their children only to look down at the floor to see them both completely fine as they continued to patch up the hole with duct tape.  “Oh there you two are. Wait are-are those the ship’s fuel rods?!” Peter gawked as he pointed out the entire destruction in his ship.

“And how did the walls collapse like that and why is everything on fire!? And more importantly what smells like something died in here?!”

“Wait a minute is that….” Rocket sniffed the air before bending down and picked up the purple soap bar.  “Drax’s soap?”

“He’s been bothering me looking for that thing, won’t shut up about it.” Peter said.  The two parental figures then turned to the kids and Rocket scolded them both.

“Kids, why does it look like a bomb went off in here?” As Baby Groot pulled on the roll of tape he said.

“I am Groot?”

“Don’t give me that boldface lie. There’s no way this was a gas leak!” Rocket reprimanded him.  Peter crossed his arms over his chest before looking to (Y/n).

“(Y/n) Meredith Quill, give me the truth or it’s no music for a week.”

“We used the-the bomb for the glitter.” She said.

“WHAT!? How did-Rocket I told you to keep your bombs out of reach of the kids!!”

“Hey don’t you put this on my Quill!”

“You’re the one leaving bombs easily available for the kids to get to! Who else am I gonna blame!?”

“How bout the two gremlins who caused the explosion in the first place!?!?” the two of them looked down at the kids who were now looking down shamefully at their pictures. “Now don’t you two think you’re getting out of this by being cute.” Rocket scolded.

“He’s right. What you two did was completely dangerous and unsafe! You could’ve been hurt or worse killed!” the two kids looked at each other before holding up their pictures.

“What? What’s this more trash? Better be a written apology.” Rocket said as he took Groot’s picture while Peter took (y/n)’s. Rocket pulled out a pair of glasses and set them along his muzzle as he looked at the picture.  “Huh this is….hmm…..wow this is, this is pretty cool. Oh this is very nice!”

“Let me see.” Rocket showed Peter Groot’s picture to see that it was all of them together with Groot encompassing his arms around his friends and family.  “Wait why am I crying in the picture?”

“Cause you’re always a crybaby Quill. Face it, you whine more than these two do.”

“I do not!” Peter whined.  Rocket raised his brow with an expression that said, ‘really?’ Peter grumbled before clearing his throat and said.  “Well at least my baby girl sees her father for what he truly is. BAM! Top that!” Peter then turned over (Y/n)’s picture.

She had drawn each of the Guardians in a way she always remembers them.  Her and her dad dancing to music, her aunt Gamora’s hugs, climbing onto uncle Drax’s shoulders pretending he’s a mountain, and Rocket along with Groot (in his current state) with machines.

“Hmm. Impressive job there kid. Even though I still disagree with how you drew your old man.” Rocket ruffled (y/n)’s hair.  “We’re gonna have to get these two pictures framed, maybe even put them on top of the refrigerator.”

“You really like them?”

“Of course squirt, you and Groot did a pretty good job on each of your pictures.”

“I am Groot?” Peter and Rocket looked at each other before Peter said.

“As long as no one was hurt, I guess we can’t really fault you guys. Besides Rocket can fix this up.”

“WHAT!?!?”

“Your bombs, your mess. C’mon kiddo.” Peter picked (y/n) up and they walked back to their shared bed quarters.

As promised, Peter managed to find an old picture frame that he had kept and placed the picture inside and sealed it up before setting it right by the bed.

“There. Perfect spot for it.”

“Perfect spot for it.” (y/n) repeated which made Peter chuckle softly as he ruffled his daughter’s head.  “You know baby girl, that was pretty unsafe of what you and Groot did, I thought something bad had happened to you.”

“I sorry daddy. Just wanted to make the picture more prettyful.” She softly said.

“I know. But next time don’t follow Groot’s instructions on using bombs to make glitter. At this stage Groot’s a little psychopath.”

“What’s a psychopath?” she asked mispronouncing the word but Peter understood what she was saying.

“Well….it’s a person who doesn’t understand right from wrong and makes bad choices everytime. Which is something I don’t want you doing promise me okay?”

“I promise daddy.”

“That’s my girl. Now go to sleep.”

“Will you sing for me?”

“Of course. Which song shall it be tonight?”

“My song! My song! My song!” she cheered as she got under the covers.

“Alright, alright, alright calm down. Get settled in and I’ll sing it.” Once he tucked her in, Peter softly began to sing ‘Ooh child’, the very song she’s always loved ever since he officially adopted her what felt like a short time ago.

#guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #peter quill #peter quill x reader #peter quill imagine #peter quill imagines #peter quill fanfic #peter quill fanfiction #Rocket Raccoon #peter quill drabble #peter quill fluff #rocket raccoon imagines #groot #drax #gamora #guardians of the galaxy imagines #guardians of the galaxy imagine #guardians of the galaxy fandom #gotg x reader #gotg x child reader #marvel fandom #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #mcu oneshot

[archangelofzion]

most of this art is shit but I am very happy with the last picture. Who knew liquid white out could make such nice ashes/stars?

#Tesslin #kraglin obfonteri #tessa udonta #my edits #marvel #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #experiment:flame and ash #experiment:the ravager code #the night we met #indie music #lord huron

[meteorstardust]

I hate how the only peter quill x readers I can ever find are romantic like where are all the fics of y/n being a little sibling to peter ?? I wanna be his annoying little sister

#PLEASE I NEED IT SO BAD #i could just write it myself #but my writing sucks so no #Peter and Mantis being protective siblings please #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy x reader #peter quill marvel #peter quill #sister reader #sibling reader

[aprylx]

Whumptober 2023 - Complete!

This is definetly more catered towards TF2 fans, as the majority are in that fandom! :)

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3755488

Enjoy! <3

#whumptober2023 #tf2 #guardians of the galaxy #spider man #deadpool #marvel #marvel fanfiction #tf2 fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #gotg fanfiction #tf2 medic #tf2 soldier #tf2 scout #peter quill #star lord #nebula #gamora #gotg #fanfic #ao3

[theycallmequeenie]

Yondu x Reader Part 5

A/N: Okay all this one got away from me a bit and sorta took off on its own and to be utterly honest I haven’t got the foggiest idea of where this is going at all. I wish to apologize for the excessive run-on sentences/paragraphs. You’d think by now I’d know what I was doing and be a pro at this. Anyway here it is please enjoy ~Queenie.

Master List

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5:

Yondu took her back to his quarters and got her into his shower, letting her shower in peace he set to arranging his room to accommodate both of them. Tonight, he wasn’t letting Y/N out of his sight he was afraid that if he were to leave her by herself, she would focus far too much on the negative things about them as a couple that were intent on creeping into her mind. At least if he were there to hold her through the night, she wouldn’t be alone with just her thoughts.

He knocked on the door that led to the shower and told her that he would be right back he was running over to her quarters for a moment to grab her sleep clothes and a change of clothes for her in the morning. She tried to argue with him, but he was gone as quick as he had appeared. By the time she was finished and drying off Yondu returned and shyly handed off her pajamas that she insisted on wearing even though Yondu insisted that they weren’t lady like. Yondu grumbled the entire time Y/N dressed, but once she stepped out of his bathroom he stopped in an instant. In awe of simplistic beauty.

Y/N tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear, starting to turn a light shade of pink, again, under Yondu’s gaze. She wasn’t used to such attention. Back home she was always too plain or too boring or something along those lines for the guys back home. Yondu’s enamored stare was still a new concept for her. She watched the blue man before her questioningly pondering his intentions in her mind. He had never been this insistent on her staying with him before. She didn’t fear him, but this was a new thing for him and between them.

Yondu, again, could sense the apprehension coming off her Y/N’s body. To sooth her concerns he gave her a gentle smile before speaking to calm her, “It’s alright, Darlin’. Only thing that’s goin’ to happen in here t’night is sleeping. No funny business, I promise. I just want ta make sure that mind of your’s don’t go getting’ to ya and messin’ up what we got goin’ here. I want nothin’ but your company t’night, Darlin.”

Nodding Y/N agreed that staying with her captain tonight would probably be for the best because she sure did have a lot wandering through her mind that could have potentially done damage to their budding relationship. She knew what her mind did all too well and this was the one thing that she didn’t want it to mess up.

She whispered a soft, “Okay Captain.” And moved closer to him, reaching out a hand hoping for him to take it. Which he did and gently pulled her into his arms, kissing her gently on her forehead hoping the innocent gesture would calm her evident nerves. It did. She rested her head on his chest and smiled against it.

Yondu pulled her back from him again offering that same harmless inviting smile as he spoke to her, “Now Darlin’ you gonna be okay with me sleeping shirtless? I know you ain’t quite ready for me sleepin’ in da buff…” He gave Y/N a wink as he finished speaking and looked her in the eyes waiting on his answer.

Y/N offer him a shy smile in return and nodded in response, “That’s fine Cap. You know I don’t mind seeing you shirtless. It’s quite an impressive sight in my opinion.” She offered him a wink of her own and a mischievous little grin and let go of her Captain.

Yondu felt saddened by the loss of contact with her and smiled and gave her a gentle and playful swat across her bottom, “Alright Darlin’, git on dat bed and git yourself comfortable. I’m goin’ to get myself ready fir bed and I’ll be right out.”

Y/N squeaked in surprise at the swat and nodded again listening to Yondu and situated herself on one side of the bed making sure to leave more than enough room for him. This was going to be a new experience for her as she had been an only child without many close friends and have never shared a bed with anyone before let alone a romantic interest. She had never actually slept with anyone else in the room much less with someone next to her in the bed.

As she was lost in these thoughts and fussing with the little bit of the covers, she had allowed herself to take Yondu had stepped out of the bathroom and watched her for a moment in complete silence, smiling to himself. While he wasn’t going to actually “have” his woman, he still had her in his bed for the night and in his opinion this way was far more intimate than if he were to have sex with her. He definitely wanted that at some point with her but tonight was all about holding her tight though the night and, hopefully, calming any and all concerns that her mind could throw at her. They had been so close to that point earlier much like other times that week only to be interrupted, again. It was always something on that ship it seems that fortunately the only ones that have caught him and Y/N in his quarters together were Peter and Tullk. Neither of them would end up telling anyone on the ship. Thankfully.

Neither Y/N nor Yondu was prepared for the almost guaranteed crap fest that would come from the rest of the crew finding out about their relationship. They both knew there would be at least a fight if not a full-blown riot from the rest of Yondu’s Ravager crew. Yondu didn’t want that on his hands just yet and he knew for certain his woman wasn’t ready for all of that chaos. He knew his crew would think him soft and that Y/N was trying to sleep her way to first mate despite being one of the only ones on the ship that was willing to do every bit of maintenance and cleaning and what not that none of the other will do. Yondu had talked many times with Y/N over the year plus that Y/N had been with him and his crew about the first mates’ position on the ship and she has flat out refused it every time it came up. She was perfectly content with her ‘generic run of the mill grunt’ position. He knew she was happy with the minimal preferential treatment she was given. The separate quarters from the rest of the crew and things like that.

All these things passed through Yondu’s mind as he walked from the bathroom to his bed and laid down on his back lifting his left arm inviting the timid Y/N to curl into his side and lay her head in his chest. Reassuring her that it was alright and that she was safe. Telling her that he wasn’t sure of the exact name of this on Terra, but he called it ‘Snugglin’ which as she was inching away from the wall she had been hugging and closer to him she let out a light giggle telling him that was essentially what they called it there too.

As he was lowering his arm around Y/N he felt her tentatively reach her arm across his abdomen and lightly place her hand on his chest as he softly assured her that it was okay, she rested her head on his chest and was asleep in moments.

But the sleep was short lived as she shifted away from him only a couple hours later and jumped awake momentarily forgetting why she wasn’t in her bed, waking Yondu with her sudden gasp.

Yondu jumped ready to protect both Y/N and himself only to realize there was no tangible threat in the room when he discovered her sitting up trying to stop the slight tremble she had woken up with. He immediately started trying to sooth Y/N telling her she was alright and that she was safe. He gently wrapped an arm around her to try to stop her trembling. This seemed to sooth her well enough as he murmured soothing words in her ears, he felt a shaky hand on his upper thigh and could just about feel Y/N turning bright red at her own brazen actions and in a soft voice he heard her whisper his name…

To Be Continued…

@capitanostella​

Part 6

#queeniesmusings #queenies fanfiction #queenies fic #Guardians of the Galaxy #guardians of the galaxy fandom #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #Yondu Udonta #yondu imagines #yondu fanfiction #yondu udonta x reader #yondu fanfic #yondu fic #yondu imagine #yondu udonta imagine #yondu udonta fanfiction #yondu udonta fic #happy reading