Space Jam (Peter QuillxReader)

Florescent lights flickered above while a fan buzzed on the edge of the counter. Too bad the fan wasn’t loud enough to drown out the music playing over the loud speakers. You sat behind the register, feet propped up and flipping through the latest Rolling Stone magazine. The manager walked out of her tiny office purse in hand ready to leave, much to your relief. She was only two years older than you but she liked to talk to you as if you were a child. She had air of smugness about her and it all came from that plastic rectangle on her shirt that read “manager”. Eyeing your boots resting on the counter she quickly rushed over to you.

“(y/n) what have I told you about putting your feet on the counter?” she gasped. “It’s completely unsanitary and looks totally unprofessional! What if someone came in and saw you like this?”

As if on cue, a man wearing a maroon leather jacket and orange headphones walked in. Your manager’s eyes went wide with horror as she witnessed the customer coming in. He, however, paid no attention to her and instead turned his attention to you. He gave you a wide smile, which you returned, and made his way to the classic rock section.

“Look I have to go,” your manager said, interrupting your thoughts. “My sister needs a babysitter for my nephew and I can’t stay any longer. The owner says you’re qualified to close up by yourself, which I completely disagree with, so you’ll be on your own,” she said as she put a ring of keys on the counter. “Just make sure you count up what’s in the register and log it in. And make sure you lock the front doors and the back entrance before you leave. Surely even you are capable of that,” she said with a smile so fake it looked like it was physically hurting her face. “You got it?”

“Um I think so. I kinda tuned out after you said you were leaving, but I’m sure I can figure it out,” you replied.

“Very funny. Just don’t burn the place down (l/n). And take your feet off the counter!” she hissed before turning away and walking out the door.

“She seems nice,” the man called over to you, taking his headphones off.

“Oh the nicest. I’m her favorite employee can’t you tell?” you remarked.  “But anyways, now that she’s gone we can turn this nonsense off,” you said as you pushed stop on the store's sound system.

“You got a problem with Top 40?” he asked.

“Only when I’ve had to listen to the same 15 songs on repeat for three hours,” you said as you took a random CD out of your bag and put it in the player. The sounds of guitars and Stevie Wonder filled the store and you immediately felt a wave of relief wash over you. “Much better,” you sighed propping your feet back up.

“Not bad,” the man agreed. He went back to his browsing and, satisfied in believing that he wasn’t a shoplifter, you leaned back and closed your eyes. You heard the guys phone ring and he started talking about “he got held up” and “he’d get there as a soon as he could” which you could tell was all a lie because he kept on with his shopping.

“I’ll take these,” he said after about five songs. You opened your eyes and began ringing up the CDs and cassettes. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked over his selections. The Bee Gees.ABBA. Def Leppard. The Jackson 5.

“Something funny about my music?” he asked with another smile.

“No, nothing,” you said looking up at him. “I just can’t remember the last time I rang up something that wasn’t One Direction or Taylor Swift.”

“Ah I see. Well if it would make you feel more comfortable I could grab a Justin Bieber CD. I just loooove the Biebs.”

“It’s okay I think I’ll be alright this time,” you laughed. “It comes out to forty bucks even.”

“You know I remember when music was actually decently priced,” he said pulling out his wallet.

“Well you know it’s all free on the internet.”

“A music sales woman ushering customers to a life of crime and taking away revenue from this fine establishment. I don’t think your manager would approve,” he said with a shake of his head as he placed the money on the counter. “Besides I can’t ever find the right download button. I keep getting Polish versions of everything.”

“You’re not on the right kind of websites then. And as for my manager she—why is this money blue? And what’s the ‘republic of the Medusa Cascade?’ you asked as you examined the bills.

“Oh ha ha that’s nothing. Nothing at all!” he said snatching the money back from you. He shoved the bills back in his wallet and began mumbling “Earth, Earth, Earth” as he shuffled through his money. “Here we go!”

You eyed him suspiciously as you took the two crisp twenty dollar bills from him.  Feeling your eyes on him he looked to the left to avoid your gaze but when he turned you noticed something behind his ear. It looked like a small metal plate pulsing with blue light. It didn’t look like a hearing aid, or at least not like one you’d ever seen. It was too sleek. Maybe it was some kind of Stark technology?

“So you uh, like working here?” he asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“Hmm? Oh yeah yeah,” you said, bringing yourself out of your thoughts. “Whenever the manager’s not here, which is most of the time, I get to listen to what I want. I pretty much get paid to sit around and listen to The Rolling Stones,” you explained.

“Not a bad gig,” he said with a nod. “But I’m more of a Beatles man myself.”

From then on you spent the night discussing bands and singers, tours and concerts, one hit wonders and living legends. Every genre was discussed from the blues to classical opera. No matter what the subject was you both talked in excited tones, happy to finally have someone that understood and appreciated the importance of music.  

“Have you ever heard of this guy?” he asked holding up a CD you didn’t recognize. When you shook your head he looked at you in disbelief and began unwrapping the CD.

“Hey you have to pay for that!”

“Relax I got it. I can use your employee discount right?” he grinned, making his way to the sound system. “Jim Croce. Time in a Bottle. 1973. A classic.”  He skipped to the third song and after pressing play he laid down on the floor and closed his eyes.

“There a reason you’re on the floor?” you asked looking down at him.

“It sounds better this way. Come down and listen for yourself,” he said not opening his eyes. Feeling silly, you got down and laid down opposite him. You closed your eyes and listened, getting lost in the melody. The words were slow and soothing mixed with calm strums of an acoustic guitar. Before you knew it the song was over and the store grew quiet.

“You’re right, it sounded way better like that,” you said sitting up.

“I told you. I know my stuff.” He looked down at what you guessed was a watch and frowned. “I better get going. Gotta meet up with someone and I’ve probably kept them waiting long enough.” He helped you to your feet and grabbed his CDs. “I’m Peter, by the way,” he said extending his hand.

“(y/n),” you said shaking his hand.

“Well (y/n), you gonna be here tomorrow night?”

“Every night this week.”

“In that case, I will be seeing you tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He gave you one last smile before walking out the door. You were about to switch out the CD that was playing when you noticed Peter had left his Jackson 5 CD on the counter. You grabbed it and quickly ran out the door, hoping to catch him before he was gone.

When you got to the parking lot it was empty but out of the corner of your eye you saw Peter walking to the back lot and you ran after him

“Hey Peter you forgot your--” you began but stopped when you saw an array of shimmering blue lights. Peter was busy pressing buttons on some sort of bracelet and when he stopped so did the lights ,and in their place stood a massive ship. You gasped in awe as you took in the bright orange and blue object. Hearing your gasp Peter quickly turned around.

“(y/n) what are you doing out here!?” he exclaimed.

“You uh….forgot your CD,” you said as you held it out to him, never taking your eyes off the ship. “Is that…is that real?”

“Uh yeah. Yeah it is,” he replied slowly.

“And it….flies and everything?”

“Yup. Takes me wherever I need to go.”

“And it’s yours?” you asked turning to him.

“Yeah it’s mine. I call her The Milano.”

“Like Alyssa Milano?” you asked.

“Like Alyssa Milano,” he laughed.

“How did you even get here? Isn’t S.H.I.E.L.D supposed to be monitoring stuff like this?”

“Well you can’t monitor what you can’t catch,” Peter answered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So you can travel to other galaxies and planets?” you asked breaking the brief silence.

“Sure can. I’ve been all over the universe, seen all kinds of planets. I’ve been to places that rain diamonds, planets that are just one massive ocean, this other one grows roses as big as houses.”

“That’s amazing,” you sighed. “I’m actually pretty jealous of you right now.”

“You don’t have to be. You could come with me,” he offered.

“Go with you?” you asked in disbelief.

“Yeah why not? I could show you all the popular spots of the galaxy. We could have all kinds of space adventures! Plus, I still need someone to show me which download button is the right one,” he added.

“Alright,” you said almost immediately. “Alright yeah, I’ll go with you.”

“That easily?”

“Peter I work in a music store. I mean when am I ever going to get an opportunity like this again?”

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” he said with a shrug. “You sure?”

“Definitely.” He smiled, taking your hand and leading you up into the ship.

“I know the first place we can go. There’s this planet in the Aethon cluster that’s like a nonstop concert. The place is split into genres and there’s always groups performing no matter what,” he explained.

“Didn’t you have to meet up with someone first?” you asked.

“They’ve already been waiting this long it won’t kill them to wait a little longer. Besides,” he said looking down at you with a cheesy smile, “you can’t stop Rock ‘n’ Roll.”