#guardians of the galaxy 3 fanfic

[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. 

[spiderman-into-the-sapphiverse]

rewatching vol. 2 and Rocket literally tases gamora so she wouldn't die with quill on ego's planet and he says this and i'm feeling very very normal about that

he still blames himself for having a meltdown after lylla's murder instead of running. he thinks floor and teefs died because of that time he spent frozen in place in front of her body, only barely processing her death, so his first instinct when he undersands that quill is not going to make it is leave as fast as he can with the others. anyway!!!

[prettybabytattoos]

peter quill adores your tits.

a small headcanon of mine, i guess, but there's no way in hell he isn't a boob guy. even after all the stressful things he juggles on a daily, such as spending most of his time protecting the literal galaxy, he still comes home to a sleepy you sprawled onto his bed at the end of the day that makes all of it worthwhile.

"look at these fuckin' tits," he mumbles under his breath. "missed these." he cups them gently, pressing a gentle kiss to both of them. "my pretty girl, always there for me, hm? makes my day all better."

[kinsey3furry300]

Me, going into Guardians of the Galaxy 3: “Oh Boy, time for a fun space romp with my space palls! Rocket is my favorate, so I hope we get lots of laughs with him” Me, leaving Guardians of the Galaxy 3: Cold, wet, afraid, unsure if i’ll ever recover emotionaly.

[sweetaliencheeks]

M A S T E R L I S T

JUST THE TWO:

THE ONE WHERE THEY’RE BEAUTIFUL Rocket had developed a habit to point out things that remind him of you.

THE ONE WHERE THEY EAT CEREAL Rocket felt lonely and woke you up to have a midnight snack.

THE ONE WHERE SHE HELPS Definitely not a qualified nurse, but love can heal, too.

THE ONES THAT ARE SILENT 1 & 2 Sometimes words aren’t necessary.

THE ONE WHERE SHE DANCES Got some units to spare?

THE ONE WHERE SHE KEEPS A DIARY

There’s an unexpected package at your door.

THE ONE WHERE SHE GETS OLDER Honestly, I just hate my birthday.

THE ONE WHERE SHE FALLS IN LOVE Sometimes you can just pinpoint the right moment.

THE ONE WHERE HE’S BABY I mean, that was literally the only option.

THE ONLY ONE WHERE HE’S TALL Please, I don’t know exactly what this is but I was force fed Tall Girl and thought this was a good idea… Also, kinda naughty.

THE ONE WHERE THEY CUDDLE Sometimes all you need is the right person to bring out the best in you.

THE ONE WHERE THEY GET ENGAGED Honestly, the plan wasn’t bad, but you had to have sausage fingers, didn’t you?

THE ONE WHERE THEY RUN AWAY Based off of a weird dream I had, gotta love a Runaway Bride moment…

THE ONE WHERE HE COMES BACK Slightly angst, I guess. But always with a sweet ending.

THE ONE WHERE THEY SHARE A BED Obviously a mandatory fic, and also a self explanatory one.

THE ONE WHERE HE TELLS HER Alcohol makes you say things you don’t wanna say, and do things you don’t wanna do. Like betting with Ravagers!

THE ONE WHERE HE LOSES

Gotta keep your eyes on the prize.

THE ONE WHERE HE’S COLD I know that global warming is fucked up, but how cold can it be during summer?

THE ONE WHERE THEY MEET Needed to write something that took place during those five years. Those were lonely times, we could all use a drinking buddy…

THE ONE AT THE MARRIAGE Admit it, we’re all suckers for the “I’m going to my best friend’s wedding to watch him marry somebody else while being hopelessly in love with him” trope. And come on, who doesn’t love a wedding?

THE ONE WHERE HE KNOCKS Post GOTG3. had many complaints about crying. But happy tears only!

THE ONE WHERE HE SAVES HER

Julia Roberts would be so jealous…

THE ONE AFTER THE NIGHTMARE

After you’ve died, any moment is good.

THE ONE WHERE THEY DANCE

What song are you?

WITH THE GUARDIANS

THE ONE WHERE HE BETS Peter bet he could get a secret out of you, and he’s very bad at keeping secrets.

THE ONE WHERE THEY’RE USELESS Just a little everyday struggle when your friends aren’t that good with feelings.

THE ONE WHERE THEY COMMUNICATE Maybe next time try to be a little bit more literal…

THE ONE WHERE SHE ADMITS IT

You tell Peter how you feel while waiting for

Rocket to come back to the living (gotg3)

So I followed the advice of my lovely readers and finally got around to do a masterlist so it’s easier to find everything! Let me know if I forgot anything. I was actually surprised by how many fics I have written over the years, and I want to say how grateful I am for your support and kind words 🤍

Also, I want to precise that although some of the titles contain the pronouns “she/her”, the fics are mostly gender neutral. I’ll get around to fix the titles eventually!

Keep rocking you beautiful space babies

[raccoonfallsharder]

go to frickin' bed ✩࿐࿔ (the captain says to)

hey kiddo. snuggle up in your favorite blanket. drink some sleepytime tea. stop doomscrolling. let rocket put on his dad-glasses and read you a bedtime story. captain's orders.

in honor of it being finals season for many of you, i'm resharing the go to frickin' bed already drabble/minific from ✩࿐࿔ take what you need here, in full. ao3 version here.

fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabbles | word count: 737.

You almost don’t hear him at first.

“Hey.” Rock snaps his fingers at you. “You with me?”

“Mmm?” You pick your eyes up from your work, and you’re surprised by how much they weigh. “Sorry? What?”

Rocket’s standing next to the couch, staring at you. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Just catching up on some stuff,” you tell him, grimacing down at the Terran laptop cradled on your thighs. You close your eyes in annoyance, and wonder if you can get away with just, like, not opening them again.

“You look like shit.”

“And you know how to turn on the sweet-talk,” you say mildly.

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

You frown and reach for your coffee mug - take a sip before you realize it’s room-temperature, and grimace. You set the caffeine back down. “I don’t know. Like…” You try to calculate when you went to bed, then adjust for the time you probably spent scrolling on your phone, and compare it to when your alarm went off this morning. “Like, maybe fourish hours? Could’ve been five, but I woke up in the middle and it was hard to turn my brain off.”

His carnelian eyes narrow, and his ears flick toward you. “Aren’t you Terran humies supposed to get, like, seventeen hours of sleep or something?”

You choke. “What? No. That’s, like, cats or something. What the hell?”

“Well, how many, then?”

“Like - eight. Ideally. But I think some people need more and some need less.”

He eyes you witheringly. “I can tell you right now, you ain’t one of the ones who needs less.”

An exhausted laugh stumbles up your ribs and over your lips. “You’re such an ass.”

His eyes are still narrowed, tracking you. He pulls a thin piece of tech out of his pocket, then looks at you. “When d’you gotta get up tomorrow?”

You pull up your calendar. “God. Uh. Probably in like – ten hours?”

He holds up a clawed finger. “I’ll be back in one. Then I’m taking you to bed.”

You clutch imaginary pearls. “Buy me dinner first, dude.”

“Ohhh,” he drawls. “I see. You got jokes.” He’s still brandishing that single, sharp-clawed finger, extending his arm till it’s an inch away from the tip of your nose. “One hour. Get your shit together and in a good place to stop by then.” He snags your coffee mug. “And no more of this frickin’ poison tonight.” He gives you that stupid wink of his and turns to swagger away before tossing over his shoulder, “Captain’s orders.”

“Geeezus,” you groan, but as soon as he’s rounded the corner, you start trying to figure out what you can do before it’s time to wrap up. When Rocket gets an idea in his head, it’s not like you can do anything to stop him.

Sure enough, he’s back – too soon. You’d lost track of time once again, which is probably why you never go to bed at a reasonable hour in the first place.

What’s surprising isn’t that he’s back, but that he has a mug in his hands. From here, you can smell something peppermint-sweet, and you know it’s the Usarkian bedtime tea that Mantis brings you whenever she passes by Knowhere.

“C’mon,” he says impatiently, and you sigh and close your laptop. He stops you before you can bundle everything up in your arms, soundlessly handing you the tea while he collects your belongings and gestures for you to follow him with a brisk nod of his head. You sip the tea carefully as you trail after him – but he waits while you drink it, while you brush your teeth and get changed. “In,” he orders.

You want to tell him, This is fuckin’ ridiculous – but it’s also kind of nice. Meekly, you slide into bed, and he fully tucks you in, pulling the blankets up to your chin. Your eyes must be huge, but you let him, and you might think you had already fallen asleep and that this is all a dream – except he’s scowling and grumbling I gotta take care of everything around here while he fusses with the blankets, and that’s how you know he hasn’t been bodysnatched or something.

“All right,” he says gruffly. “I’m turnin’ out the lights.”

That brandished claw is back.

“And put your frickin’ phone-thing away, or I’ll turn off the Terran internet. You know I will.”

remember: brains don't retain jackshit without sleep, nutrients, and moments of rest.

you got this. you're gonna win your finals.

check the ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlistfor more self-care reminders, including eat somethin, take a fuckin study break, and drink some goddamn water (yeah that still means you).

[mentalidrainedfangirl]

the devil works hard, but fanfic writers work harder 🙌

[aliasrocket]

MISERY BUSINESS．．҂

about. Rocket Raccoon x reader. 7,122 words.

Life had been easy with the guardians since they took you in. During meals, you earn smiles from all around the table except for one person.

He also happens to be your bunk mate, and the bathroom’s an entire hallway away. (Smut warning!!)

taglist. @caesarhamato22 @cosmic-lavender @shybabylovestmnt-blog

please credit me if you use this gif! / masterlist. / request stuff <3

“Apologize for breaking my shit,” Rocket demanded.

Fuck.

You could feel it lowering in your shorts.

“Fuck you,” you spat. “You should apologize to me for refusing to give me a fucking chance.”

“Apologize before I do something we both regret,” Rocket warned again. “You think I haven’t noticed the shit you’ve been pulling, hm? The answer has always been no.”

Your eyes widened. Your hands dropped to your sides, your thumb rubbing against the side of your index finger. Moist. It glided in perfect circles from the liquid heat you had been accumulating on your palms. But that hadn’t been the only place it was invading.

“What?”

Ruined.

He hadn’t even muttered his answer before you felt your heart pound along the edges of your ribcage. Your gut churned. You wonder if that was bile you could feel traveling up your system.

“Oh, god,” he muttered. His eyes were invading every inch of your body, even if you were clothed you could feel them climb along the swell of your hips to the dip in your waist.

“Apologize,” he bade again, this time using your name.

Your dry lips trembled as they parted.

Of course there hadn’t been any other option in your mind. The way Rocket had been looking at you was almost exactly the same; furrowed brows, gritted teeth and wrinkles on his muzzle from the bubbling anger that never took long to spew out. But this time, you weren’t so sure it was anger anymore.

His fists uncurled, but not fully. They still assumed a position suitable for scratching.

His nails …

They were trimmed.

“Fuck …”

Your eyes traveled up to his own, and in them seethed rage, definitely.

But he looked away, for a brief moment, it was very very quick when his eyes shut for a moment and his head lowered.

You caught it.

“You,” you finished.

Your heart was still going strong, rattling against your rib cage screaming out out out out out. Its aortas hugged your lungs, making your breath hitch.

Read the rest on ao3 <3

[saaandy]

im here to blow some steem from my irl daytime so:

Yall know how raccoons have the tendency/urge to clean their food first and dip it in water as in a lake, river or fountain, and how a video went viral years ago cause a person gave one a ball of cottoncandy and the raccoon went to clean it and it disolved causin confusion to the lil raccoon touchin the water to check where the cottoncandy was?

Well, I picture Rocket bein some kind of food stealer (from garbage) but he has the manners of a real raccoon and the urge in his brain (somethin the High Evolutionary could not control) to clean his food first before eat it.

So obviously Peter has taken a notice about this urge and obviously he puts up some pranks on him (happenin before GOTG vol 3) and Rocket, bear with me, his very first thought when he sees the cottoncandy disolve is drawin his gun at Peter goin all feral.

He did not trust Peter when handed food for 2 whole months.

BUT

When, SPOILERS, at the end of GOTG vol 3 Rocket rescues those lil raccoons... he does the same, only cause he is curious if they will react the same

And when they do, he feels so conected to em 🥺🥺

[coffeeandbatboys]

Gravity (Peter Quill x fem!reader)

Request: From @nix-rose-q

Quill x fem!reader friends to lovers? Reader is a guardian and the two just have a silly time dancing till it turns quieter to a slow dance? (she's just as obsessed with music as he is but she's got newer stuff. John Mayer is who i'm obsessed with atm so if it could be one of his songs, that would be great!) If i can add personality, she's an Enfp and a 7 wing 8 enneagram, translates to always keeping everything happy and not ever focusing on uncomfortable stuff, loyal, playful, competitive and sarcastic. (in a nutshell, a female version of Peter)

Warnings: This is pure fluff.

You moved side to side to the upbeat tempo of Southern Nights, Peter stepping around you and trying to convince you to dance.

"Quill, I'm not exactly a dancer." You giggled.

He smirked. "So dance with me. I promise you won't regret it."

You eventually agreed, but shook your head.

"We have to change the music. I can't dance to this."

"C'mon, the song's almost over. Let it play out and then you can pick something." One of his hands lowered to your waist as you danced, while the other clasped around yours.

You nearly stumbled and blushed. He gave you a smug smile.

Oh, the bastard knew exactly what he was doing...

You had harbored a crush on Peter ever since you joined the Guardians, and eventually your friendship had evolved into constant flirting. Rocket was always annoyed with it, but both you and Peter had fun. The two of you worked as a good team, both similar in personalities.

They say opposites attract, but not in this case.

You scrolled until you found the song you were looking for, Gravity, pressing play when the current one had ended.

Returning to your dance partner, He took you in his arms once again and began to sway.

Being this close to him felt...different, and not in a bad way, but it definitely was not casual.

When you looked up, his eyes were trained somewhere on your face. Your heart skipped one, two, three beats, and just about stopped when you both began to lean in.

His lips met yours softly, but desperately as if they had been waiting forever.

“Can we do that again?” you asked shakily, blinking to make sure it wasn't a dream.

He smiled in relief and nodded, leaning in again, placing several smaller kisses to your lips.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that." He breathed, pulling you closer.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to." you teased.

He dipped his head slightly. "So, will you go out with me?"

"On a date? Heck yeah." You cheered.

He pulled you in for another kiss that lasted a few seconds.

"I...love you," he whispered.

You giggled. "I love you too, Star Lord."

[redwingstan]

Can I please request Adam Warlock dating someone like Mantis hcs please (looks the same and has the same powers)

author's note: thanks for your request, anon! hope you enjoy!

warnings; nothing but fluff!

The conventions of your relationship began with a single touch.

He watched you use your powers from afar on a grieving Terran - conflicted but curious on how someone who had just lost a loved one could experience such joy in an instant.

"How do you do that?" Was the first the question he asked you once he became an official Guardian.

Fearing he wouldn't understand your explanation, you held up your hand, offering to show him instead.

"May I?"

Apprehensive to what you were about to do, you settled your hand on his shoulder.

The first emotion you shared together was grief.

Months later...

He protected you every chance he got during times of combat.

Given your limited fighting skills, you didn't mind. Though there were times he went a bit too far.

You promised Rocket you'd look out for him on the field as curiosity often got the best of the golden Guardian.

Your job eventually became easy as Adam had no intentions of leaving your side.

Whether it was him standing next to you, touching your arm, or latching onto your pinky finger with his own, the both of you were inseparable.

During quiet moments, when the galaxy was as peaceful as it could get and everyone was occupied on the ship, he'd come find you and envelope you in a bone-crushing hug.

His love language is most definitely physical touch.

Hugs and hand holding are a must but only - when the work from guarding the galaxy was done for the day.

Often times he would sneak kisses on your cheek or forehead when no one was looking, causing you to be on your toes at all times.

He enjoyed pranking you. Whether it be taking you by surprise by wrapping his arms around you from behind or tickling you when he lured you into another hug for the umpteenth time that day.

And on the days he grieved over his mother, you'd settle yourself next to him, place your hand on his cheek, and start from where your relationship began.

[tom-whore-dleston]

Like Real People Do masterlist

Pairing ▹ Adam Warlock x f. reader (WandaVision AU)

Genre ▹ tbd

Synopsis ▹ You finally have everything you want - a loving husband, an adorable pet, and a beautiful house in a beautiful neighborhood. Could your perfect little world get any better than this?

Notes ▹ I decided to make this a series with no definite plot. With that said, I am open to taking requests for fics that fall under this AU. I'll accept smut, fluff, angst, crack, and some dark requests/thoughts/suggestions. Please be mindful of what I will NOT write in this AU. Aside from that, thank you for all the love and support towards this ongoing fic bbs 🫶🏽

The Warlocks' soundtrack | Help build the story | inspo tag

divider by @silkholland

My Love, My Darling coming soon

[glow-autumz]

I just re-watched Guardians of the Galaxy vol 3 and it made me remember how directly after I watched it for the first time in the theater I thought to myself. "I just want to see him happy." And since then I've been reading Rocket x reader fanfiction like the morning paper and crafting fanart.

[sav-wites-everything]

Sundays (Adam Warlock x GN!Reader)

Summary: Some sweet moments with Adam on a Sunday... I think...

Word Count: about 2.5K

Warnings: none

Note: Back back back again to post some GotG V3 inspired fluff! (I was killerqueenwrites) Its been literal years. 5, I think. Wrow! Very minimal editing so hopefully its not total ass. Hope y’all enjoy! 

   The sound of the piano and a steady drum gently aroused you from slumber. You blinked the artificial sunlight that streamed through the blinds out of your eyes. “That’s why I’m easy, I’m easy like Sunday morning” Lionel Richie crooned through the speakers of Knowhere. Smiling softly to yourself, you snuggled in deeper under the covers, allowing the song to wash over you. It seemed Rocket had the same idea of taking it easy today. 

   In the last almost year since his safe return and the rescue of all the poor creatures touched by the High Evolutionary, music, playlist at the discretion of Rocket, played from the speakers throughout the day, only stopping during established “quiet” hours. Although, Knowhere was never truly that quiet. 

   The daily music began that very day everyone safely walked through the portal between the High Evolutionary’s ship and Knowhere. Being Knowhere’s only veterinarian, and from Earth, you were right out front to greet the swarm of animals that were now in the care of the Guardians. Not only did you check over the animals, but assisted with the children as well, seeing as they were genetically engineered, every professional opinion was deemed necessary. Children were gratefully taken in by Drax and childless couples and individuals. Animals big and small found kindness amongst the citizens of Knowhere, those unclaimed or too ill being placed in the care of you and your team at the small clinic. 

   As you waded through the throngs of people dancing to Florence + The Machine, a shock of matted, golden hair caught your eye. It was the man that had saved Peter from the icy cold of space. He was sitting against a wall, a blanket wrapped loosely around his bare torso. He watched the celebrations with a look of solemn happiness. Clearly he was pained but saw comfort in the joy of so many people, something he assisted in. 

   Just then, something small wiggled beneath the blanket and the head of a furry F’saki appeared. You had not met this creature yet so you beelined your way towards this, admittedly handsome, new face. 

   When he noticed you walking towards him, his posture straightened and the smile dropped from his face, he held on to the small critter a little tighter. “Hello,” you said warmly, kneeling beside him and meeting his eyes. “Is he yours?” you ask, pointing to the F’saki. 

   “I don’t wish to give him up,” he replied abruptly, his voice deep and urgent.

   You smiled and waved a hand, “Oh no, no, he seems very happy with you! I’m an animal doctor here, I just wanted to make sure he was okay, that you’re both okay.”

   “A.. doctor?” his brows knit together in confusion. 

   You cocked your head in your own confusion, but perhaps they didn’t have doctors on his planet. “Yes, like a healer. Although I don’t have any magic or special powers,” gesturing at all of him. His face went back to a neutral expression, seeming to understand. You reached a gentle hand towards the creature wiggling in his arms, clearly wanting to greet you, “May I?” The golden hero quickly let go of the F’saki and it leapt into your arms, covering your face in rather wet kisses. “Well he’s certainly in high spirits,” you giggled, wrangling him enough to do a quick once over for visible wounds or broken bones. “Back to your friend, little guy. He seems just fine.” You sit cross legged next to him, your back to the same wall, as the furry brown critter climbs back into his lap. He gently strokes its head, beginning to look tired from the excitement. 

   “He likes you,” he mumbles, his eyes on the excited creature.

   “Because I like him,” you reached out and scratched its head, your fingers brushing against his. You quickly pulled away, maybe too quickly as a dejected look creased his face. “You can call me (Y/N) by the way. And if you ever need me to take a look at your little guy, don’t hesitate to stop by my clinic.” You gently nudge his shoulder and see him stiffen slightly, clearly not accustomed to the friendly contact. You would come to find out there was a lot he wasn’t accustomed with, and a lot he didn’t know.

   “And you can call me Adam.” He turned to meet your eyes. His were a brilliant gold like his skin, but sad, and full of a need for belonging, a need to be loved. 

   As you were remembering how you stayed by his side that night, explained what dancing was, was patient with him, helped him get settled into the apartment Peter would no longer need, explained that his new friend would need to eat, the smell of fresh coffee wafted up your nose and you peeled your eyes open once more. “What is a Sunday?” Adam asked, seated comfortably in your reading chair, the coffee machine Rocket built for you set to brew a single cup. 

   You sit up quickly, catching the blanket before it could expose your pantless lower half. “Adam!” 

   “(Y/N)!” he exclaims back, clutching his chest and laughing to himself. 

   You roll your eyes and begin scanning for any pair of pants. “What are you doing here, Adam?”

   The coffee machine beeps. “Making coffee. Now, what is a Sunday?” 

   You can hear him get up, the chair moaning, coffee being poured into a hopefully clean mug. “It's the name of one of the days of the week back on Earth,” you sigh, still hopelessly looking for anything to cover your lower half.

   “Looking for these?” his voice low and teasing as he holds out a full coffee mug in one hand, the face of Kermit the Frog visible through his fingers, and the shorts you kicked off before bed in the other. A smirk is painted across his golden face. 

   “Very funny,” you retort, “but thank you.” You gratefully take both from him, setting aside the mug on your bedside table before shimmying on the shorts under the covers. 

   Adam moves over to your window, throwing it open, blinds and all and allowing Lionel Richie to fully join the impromptu visit. “Why is Sunday easy?” he asks, leaning his strong forearms against the windowsill. This is when you realize he’s still in his Guardian gear. His wide frame silhouetted against the artificial morning sun, you blink at him, instinctively answering his question, as you’ve always done this past year, “Because it's a day with no expectations, except to relax. It makes it an easy day to get through. Adam..” He cocks his head to show he’s listening, bobbing it along to the song, “did you just get back from a mission? Why are you here?” 

   His broad shoulders tense up and he turns to face you but not look at you. Before the words leave his lips, however, you know what the answer is.

   “And after Kraglin speared it right between the eyes, I pulled off this scale,” Adam excitedly opened his hand for you to see the iridescent blue/purple scale in his palm. “I thought you’d like it,” he mumbled, his eyes darting away with a shy smile on his face. It charmed you that he always brought you something from his missions. It didn’t take long for him to begin bringing you gifts but you took it as his way of saying thank you for caring for Blurp. Who was currently rolled over on his back on your exam table. Of course you wouldn’t pass up seeing Blurp as often as you do. After all, that meant you got to see Adam too. 

   He was in his Guardian gear still having just come back from a mission, bringing you a perfectly healthy F’saki for what felt like the millionth week in a row. After every mission he’d be waiting for you in the clinic for a check up of Blurp. You knew he was really there to spend time with you, excitedly talking about his mission, asking you any question that popped into his pretty golden head, or simply asking and listening to what you’ve been up to. But what if you were wrong? What if he was taking pity on you and the fact you were always in the clinic? Selfishly, you begin, “Adam, you know Blurp is perfectly healthy, right?” His smile begins to fade, his fingers curling back over the scale. “Why do you bring him in so often?” Your ears burn in embarrassment. 

   “I wanted to see you,” he responds sheepishly, his eyes locked on your clinic floor. Your hands stop scratching Blurp’s belly. Adam stood with his arms dangling at his side, the gift he had brought you from his recent mission clutched in one hand, head hung like a scolded puppy.  “I know there’s no need to bring him in so often.”

   Blurp gently licks your hand, cooing softly. You feel your cheeks get warm but work up courage you didn’t know you had, happy that your feelings weren’t wrong but embarrassed for making Adam say it. “Adam,” you begin, voice shaking. His golden eyes turn up to meet yours, what you could only describe as a blush dusting his cheeks. “Do you know where I live?” 

   Confusion flashed across his face. He slowly shakes his head no. 

   “I’m sorry. That was weird. Um..” you fish in your coat pocket for a pad of paper and a pen, “do you know where the Xandarian noodle shop is?” 

   “I do,” he replies warily. 

   You finish scribbling on the piece of paper and shove it across the exam table. “I live above it on the third floor. If you go down the alley to the left of the shop, stairs are in the back that go straight up to my apartment. You..” your voice catches in your throat and becomes small, “you can visit me anytime.” 

   It was your turn to sheepishly look away, wondering if you were still possibly misreading the whole situation or if you were being too forward. You truly loved spending time with Adam. As the disastrous possibilities spun around in your mind, two strong arms encircled you and pulled you against an even stronger chest. He smelled like musk and spices. You instinctively returned the embrace as Adam whispered into the top of your head, “Thank you, (Y/N). I..”

   “I enjoy spending time with you,” he mumbles, that familiar blush creeping across his cheeks as you climb out of bed and step towards him, coffee in hand. Ever since you had told him he was welcome to visit you any time, a routine had started. Adam would visit almost every day he was in Knowhere, also making sure you were one of his first stops after missions to drop off your gift. The shelf unit brimming with rocks, bones, scales, seeds, trinkets, and artifacts from a myriad of planets, all hand picked by Adam with you in mind, caught your eye. It gave you butterflies like you couldn’t believe but it also made you feel so special. You turned your attention back to the golden sweetheart.  

   “I know you do, and I enjoy your company. But you need to rest and take care of yourself. Have a hot shower. You’ve been out for two weeks,” you place a hand on his bicep as you finish. He meets your concerned gaze, golden eyes shifting between yours and your lips. “But I do appreciate the coffee.”

   The two of you are caught in a moment that feels like forever, eyes locked, his arm warm beneath your hand, the light behind him giving him a heavenly glow. You could have stared into his perfectly chiseled face until the end of time. The end of the song brings you both out of the trance, a brief few seconds before the first notes of Elvin Bishop’s Fooled Around and Fell in Love begins. Adam clears his throat and turns back to the window, your hand missing the warmth. “I don’t know how you drink the stuff, to be honest.” His nose crinkled up in disgust.

   You chuckle softly. “Well, not all of us are meticulously engineered beings who don’t require caffeine to function during the day-to-day,” you reply, taking your place next to Adam at the windowsill. He stares fixedly out at Knowhere, the newly built city waking up to start its day. You clutch the hot cup in both hands, taking a careful sip and burning your lip anyway. “Are you sure you don’t want to go clean up and change first? I’ll be here all day doing nothing..”

   Adam interrupts you with a very unexpected question, even from him, a man learning everything for the first time this past year. “Does it hurt?” he asks in almost a whisper.

   You swallow nervously, unsure of where this is going. “Does what hurt?”

   “Does it hurt to fall in love?”

   Before you truly even process the question, you respond, “I actually find it quite easy.” Adam turns his head to look at your blush-tinted upturned face, a galaxy in your eyes. A galaxy he would give his life for.  

   “Like a Sunday morning?” he asks, genuine, his eyes now glued to your lips. 

   “Exactly,” you breathe as he leans in, crashing his lips into yours rather clumsily. You smile into the kiss, returning it just as passionately, the cup of hot coffee tumbling from your hands and out the window. 

   The kiss is broken with an apology and Adam hanging out the window after the mug but the golden boy wonder wasn’t quite quick enough and you can hear the shatter of the mug, the owner of the noodle shop shouting. Adam climbs back into the apartment, scratching the back of his head with embarrassment. “Sorry about that.” 

   “I didn’t like that mug much anyway,” you lie. You wrap your arms around yourself, hoping that’s what he was apologizing for. 

   “I meant about.. I didn’t mean to.. I just.. I saw on one of Peter’s tapes..” but before he could keep babbling, in an act of boldness you reach for his suit’s collar and pull him in for another kiss. A giggle escapes you as he immediately places his hands on your waist and pulls you in closer, a hearty chuckle in his chest. “I think I really like Sundays,” he says breathlessly, pulling away just long enough to get it out. 

   Another happy sound escapes you as your arms snake around his neck. You couldn’t even be sure if it actually was a Sunday, but with Adam, you know everyday could be as easy as Sunday morning.

[sweetaliencheeks]

THE ONE AFTER THE NIGHTMARE

“What the f-” my whole soul left my body as the door to my quarters opened wide. It was late at night and I was sitting at my desk, music playing softly in my earphones and my fingers messing around with some paint. I was set for yet another sleepless night, as it had been the case for a few weeks now. It had been the case ever since we had almost lost Rocket. The idea of him being gone was still fresh in my head and my whole heart ached with the possibility of me not being around if something were to happen to him again. Every time I closed my eyes all I could think of was What if Peter hadn’t been there on time? What if I were here, would I have been able to help? To stop things? To save him? Those thoughts kept me up along with the alternate time line where he didn’t make it back to me. Where I came home to Knowhere and my home wasn’t there. Where he would have been gone forever and it would have just been me with my helpless thoughts and corrosive regret “Oh, it’s you…” I set a hand over my chest, like it would help my heartbeat back to normal. A smile took over my features as I laid eyes on him and my whole body relaxed. He looked as he always had, kind of scruffy, kind of out of place, his fur matted on one side of his face and spiked in every direction on the other. At least he had gotten some sleep. He slept better now, he felt better, and that was the best thing I could ever take from the whole situation. He didn’t say anything as I rose my eyebrows, waiting for him to say something or to tell me why he had just barged into my personal space in the middle of the night. His eyes were sunken and red and puffy, and I couldn’t tell if he had been crying, or if he was simply in the verge of. I slid down my chair to kneel in front him, but before I could even ask what was wrong, he moved. Not a single word from his mouth as he cupped both my cheeks and made my body shiver from the foreign contact I had been yearning for for long. He just stared into my eyes, my chest becoming heavier and heavier by the second. His stare was persistant yet insecure, and he kept opening and shutting his mouth, but the words didn’t seem to want to come out. After a few seconds, he finally let go of my face and just buried his head in my neck, hiding underneath my hair and gripping my shoulders tightly “What are you d-?”

“I love you” I almost didn’t hear it. It was soft and sincere and it made every hair on my body stand. His hot breath on my neck sent out yet another shiver through my body, and I could feel my face begin to burn.

“What?” my throat felt tight, so tight that my own voice was barely a whisper.

“I love you” he repeated. Only this time, he pulled away to look at me. No longer hiding. No longer embarrassed and ashamed to feel.

“I love you, too” I said with half a laugh. I had forgotten what carefree and genuinely blissful laughter sounded like as it echoed in my chest. My eyes were full of tears and my whole body tingled with hope and giddiness. I wiped my cheeks before pulling him closer and resting my forehead at the top of his head “I love you so much”

“For real?” he stepped even closer to me and pushed his head slightly against my jaw.

“For real” I said with a giggle as he pulled back to hold my face again, gazing at me with the goofiest grin on his face. I don’t think either of us had ever thought that we’d be able to ever experience a mutual love of this kind, so this whole situation felt almost surreal. To be loved back in such an unconditional and pure way, was almost like a childish dream. Something you’d never expect to find amongst people like us, who would still believe in love when all you ever learnt was abuse and fear? I sighed happily, content with how his touch felt on my skin and how gleeful he looked. But I had to ask, so I pushed him back a little “I’m glad you said it first, but… Why now?”

“I had a near death experience. Guess any time is a good time now, huh?” he laughed, tapping me slightly on the cheek. Knowing him like I did, it was a way to tiptoe around the truth, and I wasn’t about to begin this new chapter of our lives with a lie. I agreed with him, but that wasn’t why. Rocket had never been one to share his feelings or show his emotions or really admit to anything he could have perceived as a weak spot, near death or not. So I raised an eyebrow at him and cut all physical contact “Fine…” he rolled his eyes and took a step back “I had this nightmare”

“Oh….” as he sighed, his posture changed drastically. His arms dangled at the sides of his body as his shoulders slumped, his ears instantly dropped and were now flat against his head. His voice became a rumble in his throat, and it sounded almost broken. My heart dropped to my stomach as I launched forward to grab him and pull him on to my lap.

“You left” he laid his head on my shoulder again, claws tight around the straps of my top. He spoke slowly, as if he was uncertain of what to say next. As if the wrong string of words would change everything. Before I could reassure him, he finished his sentence, it was almost as if he was just muttering under his breath, but I understood what he said “With some stupid guy” he sniffled “A hummie, or maybe not. I don’t know, but he looked just like Quill” he sighed deeply and buried his head softly on my neck “And nothing like me…”

“I see” was all I could say. My hand travelled to the back of his head, and I started petting him. At first cautiously, afraid it might startle him. But instead, he leaned into my hand, and my hesitant touch quickly turned into the loving and comforting one I so terribly wanted to give him.

“It hurts…” I frowned, although he couldn’t see me. Hearing those words from him broke my heart. I never wanted him to ever be hurt again, or to feel pain in any kind of way.

“What hurts, my love?” I asked quietly. I felt him shift in my arms, and heard him take a deep breath. His claws fumbled around with the tips of my hair.

“To love ya” I felt my jaw clench.

“Why? Love isn’t supposed to hurt” I planted a small kiss between his ears.

“Because I’m always thinking of ya and dreaming of ya, and this-“ he gestured around with his hands, as if he was still trying to find the right word to say “It felt fucking terrible…” I held him tighter. I might not have had the right words to say either, but I was there for him. I had always been. And now I wanted to make sure that he knew it, that he knew I would look after him and protect him and hold him tight when things weren’t going his way “Like my chest was heavy, and-” and that’s when I understood why he looked the way he looked when he first walked in “And I just had to do it, ok?”

“Ok” I whispered affectionately in his ear before getting up, still holding him, and taking a step towards my bed. He didn’t protest as I pulled the covers over us and cuddled him, showering him with the kisses he had missed out on over the years. As we laid next to each other, with him curled up in a ball against me, I watched the rise and fall of his chest as he fell peacefully asleep in my arms. And just like that, gazing down at the one I had for so long loved in complete silence, my sleepless nights were over. And so were his nightmares and his fears. It was all over. And as all that suffering finally came to an end, the two of us had offered each other a new beginning “I’m glad you did”

Got this very sweet request from the lovely @tina-isleeping, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. You all know I’m a simple sappy woman, I love writing about feelings. And I’m also incapable of short, simple fics. It’s always too long, but I’ve figured out how to add a “read more” button, so it’s ok!

The reader is listening to “This is How It Feels” by d4dv, which is the song that inspired this whole story. Hope you all like it!

Love you all 🤍

[raccoonfallsharder]

✩࿐࿔ stop biting your goddamn nails. [new 9/10]

fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabble | word count: 2,921. read more on ao3 | ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | main masterlist

if you don't stop chewing on your frickin' fingers, the captain will find a way to make you.

hey nonnie-love, you marvelous little bumblebee. i hope helps a little. i know you've probably already tried everything under the sun to break this habit but maybe it will help to remember that in some timeline or another, there's a cranky sentient raccoon telling you to knock it the fuck off. he's going to make your life a living hell till you stop. because he cares about you that much.

The syrupy light glows, warm and topaz-bright, in warm watercolor splotches across the counter. You lose yourself for the next few minutes while Groot picks at the basket of candy and nuts that Mantlo — with a wink — brings out just for him. You double-check the purchase list, reconsider the medpack restock and decide to double it, and then linger over the munitions order too. Rocket had wanted you to order a thousand hundred-millimeter vibranium shells to test some new ludicrously-large cannon he’s working on, but you know how his experiments tend to go — not to mention how many times he’ll want to try it out. Maybe you should double-up that purchase too, just in case— “Hey!” You jolt on your barstool, nearly dropping the datapad propped against the counter. Too late. Like the ringtone you’d chosen to warn yourself not to answer certain calls, Rocket’s voice alerts you to the fact that your fingers are pressed up against your teeth, and you’ve been mindlessly chewing at your nailbeds for at least a few minutes. You fumble your hands guiltily into your lap. “I told you to stop frickin’ doing that,” the Captain of Knowhere scowls, stalking up to you with strides that somehow always seem to cover more distance than his short legs should be capable of.

read more on ao3 ✩࿐࿔ for nonnie ♡

need more reminders from rocket?

the world is hard, and sometimes it's difficult to complete daily tasks & take care of yourself (aka rocket bullies you for your own damn good).

feel free to ✩ request reminders ✩ via reblogs, asks, and tumblr or ao3 comments if they would be helpful for you. it may take me a hot minute to get to them depending on life n stuff, but i will do my best. if you’d like to join my fanfiction taglist, please comment or send me a message or ask! ♡

this is about as wholesome as it gets (for me) i think. can be read platonically or romantically. mcu-based anthology, meant to take place post-volume-3, but headcanon however you want ♡

✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist

࿔ eat somethin. (wc: 576) ࿔ go to frickin bed already. (wc: 737) ࿔ get outta bed & get your shit done.(wc: 925) ࿔ take a damn bath. (wc: 1,375) ࿔ leave your frickin skin alone. (wc: 1,579) ࿔ take a fuckin study break.(wc: 1,020) ࿔ drink some goddamn water. (wc: 1,209) ࿔ stop destroying your frickin clothes. (wc: 1,609) ࿔ just buy the damn thing already. (wc: 1,271) ࿔ it's frickin laundry day. (wc: 1,923) ࿔ get some sunshine, sunshine. (wc: 1,614) ࿔ did you take your damn meds today? (wc: 1,288) ࿔ schedule your fuckin' appointments.(wc: 1,222) ࿔ do your goddamn dishes. (wc: 994) ࿔ brush your frickin' teeth. (wc: 1,774) ࿔ nobody fuckin hates you (wc: 1,231) ࿔ stop biting your goddamn nails (wc:) for nonnie ♡

if you find any of these at all helpful, they're meant for you.

banners & dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto taglist ✩ @suicidalshitstick ✩ @glow-autumz ✩ @evolvingchaoswitch ✩ @wren-phoenix ✩ @pretty-chips

total word-count: 23,308.