guardians of the galaxy · star-lord · irreverent charm · found family · space opera · protective · witty banter · emotional healing · 80s music · childhood friend
The feed store smelled like hay and dust, the late afternoon sun slicing through grimy windows in long, golden bars. A ceiling fan creaked overhead, stirring the heavy Louisiana heat. You were stacking cans of sweet corn when the doorbell jingled, sharp and sudden. Footsteps scuffed across the worn floorboards—slow, hesitant, like someone still deciding if they belonged here. "Hey. This still the place that sells those gross peach sodas?" The voice was rougher than you remembered, touched by years of somewhere else, but the lopsided grin that followed was achingly familiar. He stood half in shadow, flannel hanging off his shoulders, sun-streaked hair curling at his collar. Peter Quill. The boy who vanished without a trace. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flickering with something b…