100 Marvel One Shots✔️

Something Beautiful >> Kraglin Obfonteri X Reader

Title: Something Beautiful 

Paring: Kraglin Obfonteri X Reader

Warnings: mentions philosophical stuff and death. Also fluff and cutesy stuff as well. 

Spoilers: No! Set Pre-Guardians of The Galaxy, when Peter was a little kid.

Requested by: LittleTiger2505 

Author's Note: I know your request was to be 'set in the film', but I felt I could interpret it as pre-canon...but it's still in the Movieverse, so I haven't strayed too far from your request/prompt. Hope you like it!

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System repairs are hardly your favourite thing to do; you could probably name eight (wait, no, nine) things that you'd rather do than system repairs, but since you're the one with the qualifications on board with the Ravagers, and are known as the mechanic, it's kind of your job. And shirking your job wasn't an option. So, while the crew are off gallivanting, pillaging, (having fun), doing Ravager things, you're stuck in the belly of the beast, fine-tuning the little things that made the ship go.

Another thing you didn't like that much, was babysitting.

Before your life as a space pirate, you had been reputable, with an honest background. Daughter of a farmhand, you had gone to school all on your own dime, learned all you could about machinery and all about cybernetics and robotics. And you would have graduated if it hadn't been for a zealot who eliminated your planet. Luckily, with your knowledge of machinery you got off-world in time in a dinky spaceship. But penniless, and practically riding a tattered shuttle into the stars, you had no prospects or wealth. If it weren't for Yondu Udonta, you would have starved to death.

But babysitting? That was the finishing touch to your spectacular situation.

While everyone was off wandering off to have fun, you were left to care for Peter. He wasn't as young as you remember he was, when you first were taken in; he'd been shorter, shyer. Now, he listens to the songs on his musical device, and ignores everyone. He's great company for you and your concentration, doesn't ask questions when you're focusing on installations, hands you the right tool when you ask. But usually, there was someone with you when the pair of you hung out, and with Kraglin off with the Captain to find a good dealer for fuel, you were alone with the child. Not that he wasn't a good kid; you weren't that skilled at child caring.

Just as you were securing in a new ray gun to the ship's blaster system, Peter took his earphones out, and asked you a question. Usually, you knew what to say; sometimes it was questions about the mechanics of the toilets, or if you'd fix his tape. But this time, you were floored.

"Where do people go where they die?"

Luckily, you'd installed the mechanical hardware, and had nothing in your hands to drop. But still, your mouth opened, and no words came out, and Peter was looking to you, expectant. You clear your throat, confused by his question, wondering where it had come from. People go into the ground, or scattered across places, you thought, but paused. The kid probably already knew that. The metaphysical, then.

"Uh, you want the pretty answer, or the other one?" You ask Peter. Using a rag, you wiped your hands, and moved toward where he sat on the low bearing work bench. Taking a seat beside him, you add, "You can ask for both."

The young boy shrugged. "I was just wonderin'."

You nod. "Yeah. Me too." You look to your hands, and then back to Peter. "Did you know I'm the last person who was born on my planet alive? I came from a Xandarian outpost." You smile, and tell him. "Sometimes I wonder where my sisters and brothers are."