my guardian angel | peter parker x gn!reader

o n e

new guardian

"Y/N?" A soft voice tore your gaze away from your bedroom window to land on your father's significant other in the doorway. You had been pondering, a habit you'd picked up over the years of being confined to the spaceship you lived in. You'd made friends with the thoughts that plagued your mind. At times they were your only company. The Guardians - who you viewed as your family - loved going on 'selfless' missions to 'save the galaxy' whenever they had the chance. They also loved leaving you behind, saying you were too young or too immature, yet still allowing the tree child to join them. That's what you get for being the offspring of an arrogant, self-absorbed, childish prick who's too busy pretending to care that he can't actually look after his child.

Gamora, your mother figure, stepped further into the room after noticing she had your attention. "Can't sleep?"

You sighed faintly, shifting underneath the blanket you had draped over your lap. "Not really." Sleep didn't come easy to you. You may have befriended your thoughts but that didn't stop them from rattling your brain throughout every night, stealing the sleep from the corners of your eyes.

"What's on your mind?" The green-skinned woman moved closer, taking a seat next to you on your bed.

Unlike you and your father, Gamora was a Zehoberei; an extraterrestrial race from the planet, Zen-Whoberei, and the last of her kind. You could see what your dad liked about her. She was beautiful, from the intricate silver designs that ran along the eyebrows and cheekbones of her shamrock face, to the curled red tips of her black hair that sat perfectly on her shoulders. Not only that, but motherly instincts seemed to come naturally to her, despite never having had kids herself. She cared about you as if you were her own, and sometimes you found yourself wishing that you were.

You never had the pleasure of knowing your biological mother. She was just another one of your asshole dad's hook-ups, died before you could even turn one. It never bothered you particularly, until the Guardians of the Galaxy formed four years ago, when your dad found his excuse to give up. All you were left with was a necklace she'd given him after you were born. The necklace was once gorgeous - a clean silver chain with a detailed silver locket that contained a picture of a beautiful woman, your mother. Now it was old, rusted. You could no longer remember the face you cherished so dearly when only the shadow of it hung around your neck.

"I just-" you began, unsure whether or not telling Gamora what was on your mind was such a good idea. You could hardly even form it into a sentence, let alone say it out loud. Your hands collided in your lap, pulling and tugging at the other's fingers until you were sure they were going to break. "I haven't left the ship in nearly a month. You guys are always out on missions. It gets lonely."

"Well, do you want someone to stay on the ship with you?"

"I mean, yeah, but..." You paused for a moment, wondering if you really should tell her, wondering how she would react. "I don't want to be left here at all."

Silence fell over the two of you as Gamora picked at your words in her head. She didn't like leaving you on the ship constantly either - if she was your primary caregiver, you'd be trained and on missions already, so she could keep an eye on you at all times. But she wasn't. She was aware of the fact she had little to no control over your dad's parenting. At times, she even blamed herself for stepping in the way of what was once a happy father-child relationship.

"Your dad isn't trying to be cruel by keeping you in here. He only has your best interest in mind." When you didn't respond, eyes glued to your hands, she sighed. "I can try talking to him. You shouldn't be left here alone constantly." You perked up at her words, finally looking up at her with wide eyes and the beginning of a grin. "But in return, you need to get some sleep." She kissed your forehead and stood up, heading to the door as you shuffled under the covers. "Goodnight, Y/N."