Requested by Anon: Could you do some Peter Quill fluff?
A/N: Although this request is all kinds of nonspecific, I’m totally doing it. My very first Peter Quill piece of writing, so be kind. I’ve also not tagged anyone because I don’t have a tag list opened for GoTG.
Warnings: none
*gif not mine
(Tags at the end)
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MASTERLIST
He sat at his desk, working through some old pieces of metal junk that, to him, were not junk at all. Headphones on. Music blasting in his ears. Head bobbing to the rhythm of the music. Peter looked explicitly in bliss, eyes concentrated and lips pursed. And to you, he looked beautiful.
You walked up to his desk, leaning against the edge, your palm pressed into the wood. A smile turned the corner of his lips upwards until those dazzling orbs made contact with yours. Delicately, you removed the headset from his ears and set it on his shoulders.
“Do you know,” you started in a wanton tone, “that when you are hard at work, you look absolutely gorgeous?” The smile that split his face was heartwarming and breathtaking. The stubble on his chin shadowed the bottom half of his face; the exact same color as his unruly hair.
The metal junk in his hand made a clonk as it hit the table, released from his grip, his hands finding home on your knees. “And you,” he answered in a mocking tone, “look dashing when you lean up on my desk like that.” You squealed when his hands tickled their way up to your waist.
Peter stood, laughing, standing between your legs as he tickled your waist and your back. You tried to control the laughter, but he was touching the spots that he knew would make you shriek.
“Peter!” you laughed. “Peter, no!”
“Always the same spots, huh, Y/N,” he joked, his hands resting on your shoulders. He moved a strand of hair away from your face, his gorgeous blue orbs boring into yours, his brows raised.
You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like I can’t get you back,” you said. A smirk tugged on your lips as your fingertips tapped along the strong muscles of his stomach.
“But I’m stronger,” he countered with a cock of his head. “And I can just do this.”
And suddenly, you were thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, a shrieking laugh leaving your mouth. “Peter!” You tried growling, but the sound came out strange; a mixture of laughter and grumbling. You threw your fists against his back as he walked you to the couch, where he not-so-delicately threw you onto it.
“You are in so much trouble, Peter Quill,” you scolded as he climbed over you, wide grin on his face.
“Not as much as you, Y/N Y/L/N,” he answered, tapping your nose, which made you giggle.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his lips to yours, kissing him hard. When he backed away, out of breath, he gave you a stunning wolfish grin.
“Oh, you’re up to something,” he cooed.
“I am,” you said, biting your lower lip. “And it involves you, Star Lord.”
He rose his brows, but he was taken aback as you pushed him off, making him land hard onto the floor. You threw your head back, laughing, watching as he glazed his eyes over in a mixture of sarcasm and true amusement.
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Summary/Request: Requested by anon: Quite not sure if this is a one-shot request or other thing, sorry. But what about the reader and Peter Quill have an argument and she decides to apologise with the song "If I could turn back time"? I think is the kind of things that Peter would love.
You fucked up. You knew that. There was no getting around it. All Peter had wanted was to spend more time with you and you being stressed and busy had simply taken it all out on him, said some rather horrible things which you regretted. You found yourself walking to rooms and Peter walking out of them, you found yourself sleeping away from him for the first time in a year, you found yourself missing his voice and his jokes and just him. You knew you had been the reason the fight had happened and you knew that at some point you needed to talk about it, but first you had to get him to talk to you.
So when he walked into the living area of the Milano that day you decided to start singing, good or bad it didn’t matter. “If I could turn back time, if I could find a way, i'd take back those words that hurt you and you'd stay” It was an old earth song, one the both of you knew. It did the job of stopping Peter in his tracks, rather than leaving the room like he had every time before.
“I didn't really mean to hurt you, I didn't want to see you go” You continued the song, terrified, until the end. Half of you expected Peter to walk out the moment you were finished but he didn’t. Just stood there staring at you, sadness on his face.
“I’m sorry, Peter...I was...I was wrong and I was horrible and I took how I was feeling out on you and you never deserved that. I’m a horrible partner...I’m so sorry.” You knew you were nearly crying, but you just loved him so much. You didn’t want him to hate you because of one mistake. One mistake you’d never make again.
“I know...you’re not a horrible partner...” He walked towards you, a mere foot away, “We all...we all do shitty things. I forgive you.” You pulled him into a hug, crying in relief into his shoulder. You had been so scared that he’d never forgive you.
