This Is Why You Woke Me (Peter Quill x reader)

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Follow-up to "Why Did You Wake Me?" also in this book

"I don't think she likes me," Peter groaned quietly, sitting in the pilot seat of the ship and swiveling the chair back and forth nervously. His friends sat behind him, listing to him complain for the last several hours and growing impatient at the incessant whining session. "She sits in her room all day and barely says two words to me."

"I agree that she does not like you. It's obvious and you are quite right in finally noticing it," Drax nodded eagerly, reaching out to slap his friend supportively on the arm, only to have him pull it from his reach. "This makes you sad. Would you like to me to speak to her for you and find out why her hatred runs so deeply?"

"Hatred?" Peter scoffed, choking on his words. "I never said hatred, man! That's a really strong choice of words, don't ya think?"

"Nah, hell," Rocket joined in, "I hated you for the longest time after I met you. Give the girl some time."

"I've known her since we were kids. How much longer should I give her?"

Rocket raised his hand to give his answer when he stopped abruptly, his mouth hanging agape as he tried to recover from what he really wanted to say. "Um...well, I suppose..." he stopped, realizing that there was no good answer, "yeah, she hates you. You're screwed, pal."

"I am Groot."

"Thanks," Peter sighed, giving his friend a nod as he turned the chair away from them all, "you're absolutely of no help, just as I figured. I don't know why I even talk to you guys."

~~~

Later on that night, once you thought that everyone had tucked in for sleep, you decided that maybe a little music might help you relax enough to sleep as well. Classical music was one of those older Earth genres that seemed to soothe you, and now that you were travelling with this new group of Guardians, you were more anxious and on alert than ever before. Peter was doing his best to make you feel comfortable and at home with them, but your nerves only left you to seclude yourself more than join in, and you feared that he was taking it as avoiding him. But now, as you played the music that usually worked, you only found that your mind was racing more and more, and your once foolproof method was now completely ineffective.

"(Y/N)?"

The meek voice from the other side of your wall caught you off guard, jolting you into the realization that your time in here hadn't been as private as you might have thought. "Peter?"

"Yeah, sorry," he replied, still through the wall, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but Pete...if you want to talk to me, just come over here."

"Um...sure...yeah..." he stammered, and you could hear him stumbling around in his room as he tried to gather himself before leaving. A few bangs and bumps made you smile as you envisioned what he was doing over there, likely tripping over his own feet before he finally appeared at your door and knocked gently to wait for your approval.

"I already said that you could come over," you answered, "just open the door." A few long seconds ticked by before the door finally moved, and he took a few cautious steps over the threshold. "Are you scared of something, Pete?"

"No," he quickly argued, "no...not scared, pfft, who you talking to, this guy?"

"Convincing," you smirked, pointing him to a spot on the end of your bed. "Okay then, sit. I dare you."

"Woman, please," he waved dismissively, crossing the room in long strides to reach the furthest edge of your bed, sitting quickly, though his body language was clearly that of being uncomfortable every step of the way. When he stilled, he was sitting stick-straight with his legs crossed awkwardly and his hands tapping against them. "See? Nailed it."

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