100 Marvel One Shots✔️

But It Must Be Lived Forwards >> Peter Quill X Reader

Title: But It Must Be Lived Forwards

Paring: Peter Quill X Reader

Warnings: mentions alien abductions, and angst and a lil bit of fluff, also has the Avengers in it too, which is fun to write. 

Spoilers: Not really, but this is set after Guardians of The Galaxy Vol. 2 , I just mention names, and no events. 

Sequel: Yes, this is the sequel to Life Can Only Be Understood Backwards. If you haven't read that, I advise you to!

Author's Note: Yeah, I've realised that this has been months since I promised a second part, but truly, I've had a lot on my mind, and not enough time to feel where this one was headed. And yes, I've been writing other fics around this time too, but I decided to let this one lay. While sometimes I write with a scaffold, to plan my fics, most of the time I just let my fingers loose on the keyboard, and it comes to light. So while this is late, I hope you can appreciate how much effort I've put into this part. In the words of Ron Swanson from Parks & Recreation: "Never half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing."

Enjoy the fic, my lil' internet explorers!

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Your heart is racing even before the doors to the Milano open. It's like you know this is it; after some convincing to the rest of the crew, and another Galaxy-saving gig later (and an asshole named Ego) you're in the atmosphere of Earth. Peter and Rocket have landed the ship in the wilderness of upstate New York, in a place where nobody in their right mind would build anything. But still. It's Earth, and it seems like years since you've been here. But the doors are opening, but instead of being greeted by the quiet whistling of wind, the swaying of trees, there are figures.

"Don't shoot!" Peter raises his hands, the rest of the Guardians following his actions, including you.

But these figures are familiar from what you remember on TV, and taking your Quad Blaster from your belt, you lower it to the floor of the ship, and tentatively step forward. "Not to be a cliché, but we come in peace," you tell the masked face of the Iron Man himself.

"Last time we had aliens, they didn't speak English," the guy with an arrow pointed at your head, Hawkeye notes. "Your accent, you're from Ohio?"

You nod. "Yeah, Cheviot, and he's from Colorado." You motion to Peter Quill. "But mostly from outer space," you glance to Gamora, Drax, Groot and Rocket, who all looked a little odd in Earth terms.

Hawkeye nods, and lowers his arrow. "Yeah, they're good. I grew up in Iowa."

Captain America waves a hand, essentially shushing the archer from gushing about the glory and advantages of regional living. The blonde all-American cleared his voice, almost making you wonder if the next statement would be a declaration of independence or something, but it was a comment. Simple. "You're not here for any sinister business?"

Iron Man's face mask raised, revealing the face of the guy with a tower and a few billion dollars to his name. Rocket gave a laugh, and turning to shush him too, the raccoon strutted out beside you, cocky as always.

"If we were here to raise a little hell, we'd come in with a little more flair, don't you think?" He snarked Stark.

The woman standing beside him opened her mouth, no words. It was then you realised that these people had never seen a raccoon talk, and that she was the redheaded super spy. Ms. Romanov. You give a wave to her, pushing past Rocket to diffuse the tension. "Hey! I'm a huge fan, I used to have your action figure." You shoot Rocket a glare, and one to Gamora and Drax as if to say please shut him up before we're under arrest for being illegal aliens! and add, "Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark, please. We only plan to be here a short while."