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Various flowers litter his feet, each petal ripped off the stem. Peter picks at another flower in his hand, the petal’s edge bites into his fingers as he pulls it off the stem, but he pays it no mind.
Heavy footsteps echo behind him, making him pause. He looks up to see Thanos observing him. He eyes the ruined flowers at Peter’s feet before focusing on him. “Lunch is ready, little one. Would you come in?”
Peter drops the last flower and gets to his feet. He says nothing as Thanos hands him his food once he sits down. He peers at it, assuming it’s some kind of gruel again. Thanos has begun to talk again, but like always, Peter doesn’t care to pay attention. He nods along in the right places as he lifts the spoon to his mouth.
Then he’s running out the door, bending over the railing just in time for him to throw up all he had that day. He feels a large hand stroking his back as Thanos murmurs reassurances. Peter continues to retch until his stomach stops warring against him.
He slumps, knocking his forehead against the railing. This was the third time this had happened. He isn’t sure if it’s a stomach bug, but he knows it’s doing nothing but making him suffer.
A familiar fruit presses into his hand. He munches on that instead, grateful that his stomach isn’t puking this up. Thanos hands him another fruit, observing him carefully before he gets up and leaves. Probably to clean up their lunch.
Peter leans against the railing, finishing off the first fruit. Man, he would kill for a sandwich.
++++
Thanos presses him up against the wall, fucking him with precision, knowing where to hit that gets him crazy. Peter clings to him, spasming around his cock as he comes between them. Thanos continues to pound him through his orgasm and into the next one until Peter can’t think of anything.
When he comes back to himself, he finds himself on the bed with cum dripping out of him. He groans. Sitting up, he grabs a nearby rag to wipe himself clean. As he does so, he looks around to figure out where Thanos went and jolts upon seeing him near the doorway, watching him.
Peter glances away, focusing on cleaning himself. After a while, Thanos steps closer and takes the rag from his hand. Peter flinches as large hands explore his body, tracing the line of his throat straight down his torso.
He closes his eyes and tries to breathe steadily through his nose. If only Thanos would stop touching him and tend to his garden. But Thanos’ hand lingers on his stomach, caressing it.
“It surprises me what the stones can do.” Thanos suddenly says, the light catching each stone as he flexed the gauntlet. “Any wish I want at the tip of my finger.”
Peter averts his eyes, unable to stand looking at the titan. Who the hell knows what the manic was going on about. He tries to shift back, but Thanos’ grip on his hip forbids him. He silently exhales, slumping in resignation. Peter leans into his touch, draping his arms around the titan, tucking Thanos’ head against his chest, just as he prefers.
Thanos hums appreciatively, his cursed fingers still caressing his stomach. “I’m glad that you’re here. It would be a lonely life in The Garden. Successful, but lonely after the loss of all my children.” Peter resisted letting out a snort and settled on drumming his fingers against his arm instead. “And now you have given me a gift. A new life to look forward to.”
Confused, Peter slowly peels away, trying to understand what Thanos was getting at. Undeterred by his moment, Thanos’ hand stays on him, his expression soft. “I wasn’t sure if it would take. But I shouldn’t have doubted the power of the stones.”
Peter wretches himself away, ungracefully scrambling away. Thanos’ soft expression quickly morphs into exasperation, but Peter doesn’t give a fuck. His hands flew to his stomach, glancing at it as if it had all the answers.
“I wonder if I can reconstruct your insides to accommodate my seeds.”
He thought about all the times his stomach rebelled against him and Thanos’ inability to keep his hands off his belly. A new life, Thanos had said. Peter covers his mouth in horror. Oh, he was going to be sick.
“Little one—”
“No,” Peter rasps, voice scratchy from disuse. He steps out of Thanos’ reach, pressing himself against the wall. “No, this isn’t possible.”
“Like I said, anything is possible with the stone.” Thanos smiles. “You should be happy—”
“Happy?!” Peter laughs hysterically. “Y-you put a parasite in me!”
Thanos’ eyes narrow. “That is our offspring you’re talking about.”
He shakes his head. “No. No, no, no…” Without another word, he runs out of the room. His hand closes around the cooking knife just as Thanos follows him out. Peter whirls around, brandishing the knife at him. “Stay back. I mean it.”
Thanos just looks disappointed in him. “Boy,” Peter knows his weapon is nothing compared to what he has, but it’s the principle of the matter. Thanos takes a step forward, only to stop when Peter steps back. “Boy, is this what you really want?”
He sneers. “How do you know what I want?”
“You’re like me,” Thanos answers, unperturbed as ever.
“That was a rhetorical quest—!”
“You wanted a family like I do.” He continues, coming closer. “I only gave a little push, and you granted our wish.”
Peter can feel his breath quickening with every step that shakes the floor. “You’re delusional.” He gasps out. “Insane.”
Thanos decided to fuck with his body, changing it to his liking and then deluded himself that Peter wanted any of this. Peter never wanted any of this. He never asked to be trapped here, forced to please Thanos against his will. He never asked to host a fucking parasite in his body.
He twirls the knife in his hand until it faces him and thrusts it toward his abdomen. His fists hit his body, but there’s no pain. Peter unclenches his fists, despairing upon seeing bubbles where that knife was.
A growl erupts from his throat as his nails dig into his stomach. “I don’t want this. I don’t!”
He can hear Thanos sighing as if tired of his cries. A purple hand appears in his line of sight, and he slaps it away. “No!” Familiar rage rushes through him as he grabs whatever he can get his hands on and throws it at the titan. “I never wanted any of this. You took everything from me! You can go rot in hell, you insane egomaniac!”
Thanos catches his hand and throws him to the ground. With a flash of yellow, Peter finds his limbs frozen.
“I should’ve done this in the first place,” Thanos says with a shake of his head, rubbing his wrist. “I would’ve saved me a lot of trouble. If it made you feel better, I did want you to be happy.”
He spits at him, glaring hatefully. “Fuck you.”
Any resemblance of kindness wipes off Thanos’ face as the gauntlet glows orange. Peter pales. Thanos never used the soul stone before; Peter had no idea what it could do.
Something stirs in his chest. “Are you going to kill me?” It sounds too good to be true.
“No. I’m going to make you see reason.”
Thanos places his hand on him before he can wonder what those words mean.
++5 Years Later++
“Daddy!”
Peter sets his tools down and glances behind him to see a girl with lilac skin and curly platinum hair that was messily tied in a ponytail. Peter fondly rolls his eyes at the sight of it. After all these years, the girl’s father was still awful at hairdos.
He holds out his arms just as she runs into him with a giggle. He laughs with her, placing her onto his hip. “How’s my River Lily? Being a terror to your father?”
She grins, giggling in the way that Peter knows she’s up to no good. “I got Father’s treasure.” She whispers loudly, nearly vibrating out of her skin to show him.
Peter tilts his head. “Ok, I’ll bite, whatcha got?”
His eyes nearly flew out of their sockets when she reached into her pocket and showed him a couple of infinity stones in her hands. “Aster Meredith Titan!”
“Father doesn’t know!” His troublemaker daughter whines.
Peter’s eyes roll heavenward, asking any higher life forms for patience. “Aster, baby girl, tootsie roll—”
Aster wrinkles her nose. “Is Daddy mad?”
“—River Lily of my heart, What have we told about touching the pretty stones?”
She pouts, staring at the ground. “Not to touch them just because I can…”
Peter let her stew in silence for a bit longer before giving in and kissing her forehead. “I’m not mad, just worried. We told you that pretty stones are dangerous.” He sets her down and quickly fixes her hair to resemble less of a rat’s nest.
“But what about the pretty stone you said you stole when you were twenty?”
“Borrowed,” Peter corrects. “I borrowed it, and it wasn’t as pretty as your father’s collection.”
“But I thought you never returned it?”
“Enough about pretty stones,” he says hastily. “I want you to head back home and apologize to your father for stealing the stones. Even when he should’ve kept a better eye on them.” He mutters the last part to himself.
But Aster heard anyways. She giggles, quickly trotting away. “Ooh, Father’s in trouble!”
“Tell your father that I’ll be out soon!” He calls out, tucking his tools away and wiping his hands.
His current project was fixing his vehicle up so it would run smoother. It was a motorcycle to help him drive through the terrain of the Garden. As much as Thanos loves his farm, Peter likes to venture out into the forest and bring home meat to eat.
Deeming he let Thanos stew in anticipation long enough, Peter stands up and heads for the cave’s opening.
A chilling scream cuts through the air, and Peter never ran so fast in his life. He burst through the open door of their house to find intruders standing over his mate and daughter. So, Peter can’t be blamed if he shoots first. They scrambled out of the way until he could put himself between his family and the intruders.
“Daddy!” Aster sobs, clinging to his leg with bloody hands.
Keeping his gun trained on the intruders, he tilts his chin down. “River Lily, where are you hurt?”
“No, she’s alright,” Thanos answers, reassuring him despite the slight strain in his voice. “It’s not her blood.”
He finally turns to see the stump where Thanos’ hand used to be. Hot rage pulses through him as he turns back to the strangers. “Give me one reason,” he starts slowly, tasting the venom dripping off each word. “Why I shouldn’t blow your brains out right now.” And sure, there’s one of him and a bunch of them, but he swears he got enough skills to do it.
“Are you seriously protecting that manic right now?” A giant green dude asks incredulously.
Peter fires a warning shot at their already busted roof. “That’s my mate you’re talking about, so I suggest shutting your goddamn mouth.”
“Pete?”
He swerves the gun at a humanoid raccoon. A blue-skinned woman looks ready to jump in front of him, but a paw on her arm stops her. “How do you know my name?” He demands, keeping his gun on the raccoon. “Who the hell are you people?”
The raccoon whirls to Thanos, baring his teeth. “What have you done to him?!”
“Hey!” Peter snaps. “Don’t talk to him that way! You guys got a lot of nerve, storming into here and destroying our house. You’re lucky I’m not shooting holes into you.”
“Come on, Pete, don’t you recognize me?” The raccoon asks, his voice sounding strangely strained. Peter’s sure he had never heard him sound so vulnerable before. He blinks, wondering where that thought came from.
He shrugs. “Sorry, Ranger Rick, I never met you before in my life.” The raccoon chokes on a laugh, looking distraught.
“You’re family.” The blue chick finally speaks up.
“You sure you ain’t mistaking me for someone else?”
“Pete—”
“Stop calling me that!” Peter snaps. “I don’t know who you are! And I don’t want to after you scared the crap out of my daughter and injured my mate!”
The raccoon steps out from the blue woman’s shadow, and Peter’s eyes narrow in on the object attached to the raccoon’s hip. It’s an unassuming rectangle box, nothing more, nothing less. But somehow, seeing it gives a sharp tug in his chest.
“I didn’t do none of it right, but I’m glad you’re my boy.”
“What is that?” Peter demands, but his voice comes out weak. He points at the object. “Why do you have that? That’s… that’s…”
“The Zune.” Ro—the raccoon answers, his eyes shining with hope.
Aster clings to his pants, her fingers tightening in worry. “Daddy?”
“I…” The Zune, no, he had something different. Something bigger, primitive. He stumbles back, loosening Aster’s grip from his leg. Peter points at the raccoon with a shaky finger. “I-I know you.” The name is at the tip of his tongue, and he’s so close to grabbing the missing pieces. “R-Rock—”
A hand clamps onto his shoulder, pulling him back. “Peter,” Thanos murmurs. “Don’t be fooled.”
The raccoon snarls loudly. “Don’t fucking touch him!”
“I-I…” Peter’s eyes fly to his mate, hoping he has the answers he seeks. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. Thanos, why are they here? Who are they?”
“We’re—”
A blast of purple throws the intruders back. Aster, his brave girl, drags Thanos’ cut-off hand closer to them.
Thanos glances down at him. “Trust me.”
Always. Peter slackens against Thanos’ body, his eyes slipping close. He feels safe with Thanos behind him and Aster pressing against his side. He forces himself to believe that.
Behind closed lids, he sees the flash of blue.
“Peter! No!”
Green eyes snap open as his friend screams desperately. He surges forward as the furred figure leaps at him. “Rocket!” But it’s too late.
He sinks back under.
++++
Aster watches as Father’s hand glows yellow and orange against Daddy’s head. “What’s wrong with Daddy? Is he sick?”
Father hums, and the glowing cuts out like her nightlight. “Those people are bad people that want to steal our Peter from us. They made your daddy very sad.”
She frowns, remembering how she saw them chop Father’s hand off. Aster holds his hand, now reattached thanks to the pretty green stone. “They made Daddy upset and hurt you. I don’t like them.”
Father nods and pats her head. “Don’t tell your daddy about what happened. It would hurt him. You have to protect him.”
Aster nods determinedly. “I’m very strong! I’ll protect Daddy and Father!”
Father laughs and tucks her next to Daddy. “You’re a fighter, and I’m proud of you.”
Aster giggles and settles in. She isn’t sure if she likes their new home yet. But she’s on a ship, and Daddy loves ships. Either way, she’ll protect her new home from those mean people.
++++
It doesn’t stick at first.
Quill would stare longingly at the sky, wearing the look of homesickness despite how much he tried to hide it.
“I just… miss my family.” He explained one night when he asked.
“We’re family.” Thanos points out, hoping it would ease the longing.
Quill smiles, exasperatedly fond. Thanos finds that he quite like it. “Yeah. And so are they.”
He’s melancholic more times than not. Shedding tears when he thinks Thanos isn’t looking. Weeping for the fiercest woman in the galaxy, for her death, for the guilt he carries in exchange for loving her father despite understanding that her death was for a better cause. He still mourns for her and the family he left behind. Thanos fears his heart wouldn’t last under all the heartbreak.
So, he reached into his head and plucked it all out, careful not to mess with the soul too much, lest he twist him into someone unrecognizable. But using the mind stone, it’s easy to separate memories and lock them behind stone walls.
Peter wakes up, blinking bleary. He yawns, running a hand through his hair. “Mornin’, or, wait, is it nighttime? Damn, how long did I sleep?”
“You needed the rest,” Thanos assures him, guiding him back down. “How do you feel?”
An eyebrow quirks up, bemused by his question. “Is this a trick question? Because I don’t feel like puking up lunch every day now, but this kid of yours is a pain in the ass.”
Thanos chuckles. “She knows what she wants.”
Peter snorts. “She? Could be a boy.”
“Could be.” Thanos concedes. “But don’t think you dodged the question.”
“I wasn’t dodging! I got distracted.”
Although amused, he waits for him to continue. Seeing that Thanos wouldn’t let him worm his way out of this one, Peter sighs.
“I feel…” He pauses, reconsidering his words. “Good.” Peter breathes out, eyes going slightly widen at the revelation. “Really good, like…”
“Free?” Thanos offers.
He blinks, then snorts with a roll of his eyes, but his intention isn’t one of malice. “Something like that, yeah.”
“I’m glad.” And he means it. “I didn’t like seeing you sad.”
“I was sad? Over what?” The hybrid’s brows furrow, trying to search for a memory out of his reach. Without warning, Thanos pulls him into an embrace, chest to back.
“What’s this for?” Peter asks, amused.
“Just because. You don’t like it?”
Peter hums and shakes his head. “I like it.” He murmurs.
“And why’s that?”
“Because you hold me like this. It’s nice.”
His hand reaches down to caress the swell of his lover’s belly. “Then I’ll hold you like this for as long as you wish.”
Peter laughs lowly. It’s a lovely sound. He twists to plant a quick kiss against his lips. “I’ll hold you to that, big guy.”
“Sing for me?”
Peter grins, eyes sparkling as he picks a song from memory. Something about an escape and a Terran alcoholic drink. Thanos relaxes, listening to the lull of his lover’s singing.
Life is good.