You're fuming right now! This happens all of the time with Peter! He acts like you're a child who can't defend themself! You've been a guardian for a long ass time now, and you've saved each one of your friends more than once, yet Peter insists on 'protecting' you! You're a big girl! You can take care of yourself!
You've all just defeated a huge dragon monster thing that could shape shift. It was difficult to kill the damn thing, but all of you did. It would've been one of you favorite missions if Peter didn't jump in front of a damn spike that the dragon spit out at you. The spike would've just grazed your shoulder. That's it! And since Peter is a huge idiot, he jumped in front of it and got impaled in the right side of his chest!
On the way back to the Milano, no one said a word. They all saw how pissed you were, and didn't want to make it worse. You're not he type to yell all of the time or get angry, but there are always times when something or someone makes you do it. This is one of those times.
You've all made it to the Milano, and you have a few words to tell Peter. You give the other guardians the look, letting them know that if they want to spare themselves, they better go.
"Well, would you look at the time. It's drunk o'clock." Rocket nervously speaks, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think everyone, but Quill and (y/l/n) should go get a drink."
Peter looks down at you, noticing your deadly glare that's stabbing him in your mind. He sighs and turns to the others. "Well-I mean you don't have to go. You could-"
"Bye, Peter!" Gamora leads the others out, including Groot.
You stand there, staring daggers into Peter's head until you hear the click of the doors. Harshly, you drag Peter by his bad arm.
"Ow, ow, ow! Bad arm, bad arm, bad arm!" Peter whines as you lead him to a little room that you set up for when anyone wants to relax.
In the room is a round, comfy, white couch that you love so damn much. You managed to steal some Christmas lights from somewhere to hang around the room to light it dimly. On the floor is a fluffy white carpet which feels like a cloud when you walk on it with bare feet.
You drag him over to the couch and push him down on it, making sure to put a lot of pressure around the spike in his chest.
"Ow! What the hell, (y/n)!?" He belts out in pain.
"Sit there and shut up!" You demand, getting on the couch, and turning his injured shoulder towards yourself.
"You're being so rough! What's your problem?" He asks, his eyebrows almost gluing together.
Your eyes meet his. Yours filled with frustration and an emotion close to hatred, but it's a level lighter. It's the kind of anger you feel when your parents don't let you get your way and say that they know what's best. His eyes are filled with concern.
"My problem? Are you serious?" You reply with another question. You scoff, shaking your head as you turn to his injury.
"Well, you're acting like I did something to piss you off when I didn't do a damn thing!" Now he's getting frustrated.
Rolling your eyes, you grab on to the spike and get ready to pull. "Put this in your mouth." You sneer, handing him the closest soft thing which just so happens to be your favorite blanket.
"I'm a big boy, I can take it." He insists, taking the blanket anyway.
"Fine. I don't care." You get a good hold on the spike.
Without warning, you rip the spike out from his body and throw it on the floor, hearing him give off a loud whimpering hiss of pain. The wound begins to pour out blood as you place your hand over it. A warm sensation fills your hand, healing the wound.
"There, big boy, take care of the rest." You stand up, making your way out of the relaxing room.
"(Y/n), come on! Tell me what's wrong!" Peter begs as he follows you out of the room.
Normally, you'd be glad to tell him what the hell he did, but this time, you feel like you'll go too far. If you do that, there's no going back. So, you just keep walking.
"(Y/n)." He says your name, gently grabbing you by the elbow.
You spin on your heel and pull your elbow from his grasp. "Leave me alone, Quill!" You turn around again.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong." He orders.
"Drop it!" You shout, doing a circle and walk back into your relaxation room. If you get there fast enough, you may be able to close the door and lock it.
"No!" He shouts back.
When you make it to your favorite room, you turn quickly only to be met with his body already there. Peter locks the door from the other side and closes it, locking you two in the room. What a douche!
"Damn you!" You bark, folding your arms over your chest, and walking over to the couch.
"Now, neither of us are getting out of here. The others won't be back until later, so, you better start talkin'." He states, putting his back against the door, mirroring you by folding his arms over his own chest.
With a sigh, you sit down on the couch. This can't be happening. How could that idiot do that! Why would that idiot do it!
"You're such an ass, Quill." You murmur, cradling your head in your hands.
"And why is that?" He asks, taking a step closer.
"Because you're stupid!" You shout, lifting your head up. "You put your life in danger when it's not needed!" You stand up, your adrenaline making an instrance for some reason.
"What are you talking about?" He questions, taking a step towards you.
"You literally could've died from that spike today!" You yell, your anger fuming from your body.
"I was saving you!" He exclaims.
"From what!? Getting a scratch!?" You boom, your voice gently reverberating off of the cold metal walls.
"I-" he cuts himself off, not knowing what to say. His face falls as he looks for words.
You just wait for him to speak again, your eyes boring into his head. Peter usually makes you happy and want to kiss him, but when he does that stupid shit, it makes you want to choke him. It's so annoying!
His face goes to a stoic one. "If you want me to apologize or stop trying to protect you, it's not gonna happen. I care about you too much to let you get hurt."
You shake your head and scoff. "Peter, I'm a big girl! I can take care of myself! I know how to fight! I'm not useless! I don't know why you keep acting like I'm a toddler!" You rant, gesturing your hands.
"I don't act like you're a toddler!" He denies, taking another step closer.
"Peter, I would've gotten a damn scratch from that spike. You got it lodged in your fucking chest!" You fume.
He rolls his eyes. Peter knows what he did and won't admit it. "Sorry for wanting to keep you safe?"
"It's not keeping me safe if you do it all of the time, Peter! Sometimes it's necessary, but you do it every damn time! You let everyone else get little scratches and stuff! Why am I different? Am I that much of a burden to you!?" You spout, tears forming in your eyes from frustration.
His forest eyes roam your face, looking for the words to say. They go to your lips and then make their way to your eyes again. "I just wanna keep you safe. Is that so bad?" He asks softly, taking yet another step closer. (PLAY THE SONG NOW! IT MAKES IT BETTER)
Now you two are toe to toe. You look up at him, his body towering over yours. Peter is just so good looking. Sometimes you just want to put your hands in his hair and kiss him with no mercy. Being this close is making you blush.
"I-I-Just-um-" you close your eyes and look down at your feet, trying to regain your composure. "I just don't want you to do it all of the time. Trust in me. Trust that I can protect myself." You say with your eyes glued to his boots.
Why can't you look him in the eye when he's so close? You two have been this close before, but under different circumstances and you didn't blush...well, not this much, and you certainly didn't look away from him. So, why now?
"I do trust you, it's just-" he cuts himself off with a huff, placing his fingers under your chin, making you look up at him. "Look at me when I'm giving a heartfelt speech, okay?" His fingers linger there on your chin.
You're not sure what to say or do. Your body is frozen. Your lips won't move and you can't speak You're star struck by this man. Yes, Peter is insanely hot, and funny, and stupid sometimes, but that doesn't matter. You don't have feelings for him...you can't. But if you don't have feelings for him, why are you blushing so hard? Why are you frozen right now? Maybe you're lying to yourself.
"You mean too much to me to let you get hurt in any way. I don't want you to get hurt at all. Even if it's just a scratch." He pauses, looking into your shining (y/e/c) eyes.
Why can't you say anything? It has to be because of his touch that's still on you. Speaking of which, he's moving his hands to cup your face now. Just great. His eyes linger on your lips, most likely wondering if he should kiss you. God, you'd love that, so damn much. No, wait! No, you wouldn't! That's Peter! Your friend! The Peter that you were mesmerized by when you first saw him. The Peter who makes you laugh uncontrollably on the floor. The Peter who comforts you when you're upset! The Peter who wraps his arms around you and holds you close, so close that you can hear his heart beat that always seems to beat quickly when you get that close. The Peter you've grow to love...as a friend...right?
His eyes roam up to yours, pulling your face closer to his simultaneously. He's going to kiss you! Finally! Wait, no! You're still to frozen to tell him to stop, or to move your body. His lips collide with yours, sending what feels like electricity through your body. At first you hesitate before closing your eyes and getting lost in the kiss. Your hands make their way to his hair, gently pulling him closer. this kiss feels so right. Like your lips were made for each other.
The need for air becomes too much, so you both pull away and just stare into each other's eyes. A small grin makes its way to his lips .
"I'm glad we finally did that." He admits letting go of your cheeks.
You let go of his hair with a blush, trying to recompose yourself, stepping back. Words don't come out of your mouth. Maybe it's because your lips are a bit swollen from the passionate kiss that the pair of you just shared.
"That whole unspoken love was getting a little too much, don't you think?" A smirk plasters on his lips as he takes a step closer.
You shake your head. "I'm not in love with you, Quill." Your head turns away on its own as Peter places his hands on your cheeks yet again.
He turns your head to make you look at him again. You bite your lip as you look at his perfectly shaped ones. "So you wouldn't mind if I stole another kiss. Since it's just two friends kissing and not two people who are in love kissing, right?"
You shake your head and regain yourself. Pushing him away you speak clearly. "I'm not in love with you, Quill. Don't forget it." You attempt to act tough, but end up sounding like a child.
A smile erupts on his face as he turns around to face the door. "Then I guess that I can confess my feelings, huh?"
"Wh-eh-What feelings?" You stumble on your words.
"You know...I'm hopelessly in love with you. That's why I do everything I can to make sure you don't get hurt." He coos, turning on his heel to face you again.
You have to be as red as a tomato now. There's no way that you haven't been turned by now. You don't love him...do you?
"And I know you have feelings for me too, (y/n)." He walks to the couch and takes a seat, pulling you down with him.
"What makes you say that?" All confidence has been thrown out the window. Gone! Zip! Nothing! Confidence? Who's that bitch? Where's your confidence? Oh, no worries, it was just stolen and stomped on after being shredded and drown in a pool. No big deal!
"Because even when you're mad at me, you doctor me up. Because I catch your longing stares when you think I'm not looking. Because I notice how much more you do for me than the others. You love me." He pauses, his mouth so close to your ear. "And, also, Mantis touched your shoulder, and her face lit up with adoration as she looked at me."
Damn Mantis and her empathic power! Fine, you admit that you're so in love with Peter that it hurts! You love being in his arms, and laughing with him until you cry! You love the looks he gives you! You love the way his shirts fit so damn nicely on his body, showing very little crevice on his torso. You love the way his touch lingers for too long, even though you act like you hate it by pushing his hands away.
"Damn you, Peter." You express softly, your eyes landing on his lips. "I hate when you turn into Sherlock Holmes and figure things out that you're not supposed to." You look away, to your shoes.
"Why wasn't I suppose to figure this out?" He asks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"Because when you say it out loud, it makes it true." You admit, laying your head back on his shoulder.
"And what's so wrong with that?" He questions, gently laying back on the couch.
"It means now it's spoken and the fun's over." You joke, looking up at Starlord.
He chuckles and shakes his head. "Oh, Sweetheart, the fun is just beginning." With that, he crashes his lips to yours.
Your hands trail up his chest and to his face, cupping his cheeks as he wraps an arm around your waist. Gently, he lays you back on the couch, kissing down your neck. You bite your lip to stifle any unholy noise that attempts to break free.
"I love you, Peter." Just like that unholy noise.
He stops kissing and towers over you. "So, now you say it. When you're getting all hot and bothered." He winks, placing a kiss on your lips before standing up.
"Wait, what are you doing?" You ask as he makes his way to the door.
"Punishing you for literally hurting me earlier." He smirks, unlocking the door from the inside.
But he locked it from the outside! How did he unlock it from this side? "How did you-"
"I've owned this ship for a while now, Babe. I think I've gathered a thing or two." He smiles, opening the door.
"Damn you, Peter Quill." You mumble to yourself, upset that you didn't get any...action. Fine. If he wants to play that way, that's completely fine. You'll just turn the tables on him later and make him beg.
A huge smile plasters itself on your face as you stand up. If he wants to play hardball, your definitely gamed. That is a game you can win.
"You better watch out, Peter Quill. You think you're the master of seduction, you just wait." You innocently sauntering towards the door and walking out.
A pair of arms grab you from the side and lift you, causing you to jump a little. "You think so? Think you can seduce the master of seduction?" He questions.
You wrap your legs around his waist and use your body weight to direct him to a wall, making sure he crashes into it. "I know so, Quill. You wanna know how?"
He nods. "Yeah, I do."
"I've already done it by making you fall in love with me. How hard can making you beg be?" Your words ghost over his lips.
He lets out a soft breath. "Oh, Sweetheart, I don't beg."
"You will." You insist, ever so seductively.
"God, I love you." He states, pressing a kiss to your lips.
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OKAY WOW! DID NOT KNOW IT WOULD TURN INTO THAT WHOLE THING AT THE END! I JUST KIND OF KEPT WRITING TO SEE WHERE IT WOULD GO! I WAS BORED AND IT'S LITERALLY 2:00 IN THE MORNING, SOOO YEAH! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!