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Description
-SPACE-

Against the backdrop of a seemingly endless dark stretch of stars, the vibrant splashes of blue and orange from The Milano made it stand out. This wasn’t exactly uncommon for the ship’s inhabitants either. The Guardians of The Galaxy were always a group to cause a scene, one way or another.

The interior of the winged ship most certainly appeared to be lived in. The centre of the ship was largely a living space, having a yellow velvet sofa. It wasn’t exactly fashionable in a modern sense. Perhaps more suited for an eighties era nightclub. Certainly to that taste of Peter Quill.

Speaking of the captain of The Milano, he currently was seated in the cockpit. The navigation chair was placed behind the other chairs, four to be exact. There was a slight height to his own chair too, one that gave him a clear view of each seat.

Quill had been giving his best efforts to be the leader The Guardians needed, even despite their seemingly constant jokes at his expense. Though he could seem rather overconfident, or even arrogant at times, he always put the team first.

His appearance didn’t exactly ease the jokes from the other Guardians either. Everything from his blonde, retro spiked hairstyle to his signature red leather jacket, with the words ‘Star Lord’ embroidered onto the back of the material were up for being mocked.

The Milano was simply drifting as of now. Cruising without a destination. Peter Quill looked bored, even tired. His steel coloured eyes reflected the luminous screens and blinking lights of the navigational system spread around him.

He rested with a hand slumped against his cheek, and his elbow supported against the arm of his chair. His gaze would wander from the screen to his left and then back to the one on his right. Nothing new to see. Nothing interesting either.

That was until a strange beeping sound began to transmite from the navigational system. The pitch of the steady sound quickly garnered Peter’s attention, as he straightened up his posture, and began to look more aware.

“Whoa! What have we got going on here?” He excitedly questioned the device as it continued to beep. He tapped on the screen with a few seemingly random pushes, before he was able to notice a very distinct distress beacon that had been set off.

Quill assessed the coordinates briefly, noticing the exact location was pinpointed to a planet just a short flight from here. It wouldn’t even take much time at all to reach, which would be seemingly fortunate for anyone desperate enough to set a distress call out.

“Guys, get yourselves together!” Peter swivels around in his chair, looking down the brief corridor into the living space. He hollered for his friends, having to speak loudly to even hope of them paying attention. It was rare they did so anyway, but Peter still liked to pretend he had some command.

With haste, he turned back to the navigation system, starting to plot coordinates for their expected travel. As he did so, he was yet to even notice a set of hushed footsteps reach his side. He nearly jolted from his chair at the sight of another person!

This was Gamora, the daughter of Thanos. She’s cold and ruthless. Certainly someone you want in your corner when getting into a scrap. Her light green skin makes her recognisable, as do her shimmering blades of doom.

“Gamora! Gosh, you really…” he struggled to even breathe, let alone speak! The captain acted as though the slight shock sent him spiralling into cardiac arrest. He clutched his chest tightly, as though trying to restart his heart.

“Peter, why are you shouting?” She spoke in a rather monotone way, which was rather common. She kept her arms crossed as she spoke to Peter, already appearing fed up with his adrenaline rush from something likely not all that exciting.

“Ah, because we have something to do, finally!” He taps on the distress beacon signal displayed on the screen, giving clear indication of what he was trying to describe.

“A distress beacon?” She seemed to lack the same amount of energy as Quill over this very mundane announcement. Peter however, did allow his own mood to sour.

Quill attempted to speak further, but another silent footed companion approached Peter’s other side, again causing the captain to nearly faint from shock.

This time it was Drax, or more commonly known by Drax: The Destroyer. As the name would suggest, he’s a tough guy with a passion for destroying the biggest and deadliest creatures he can find. However, his sense of taking everything literally does make conversations a challenge.

“Peter Quill!” He announced, giving Quill his second near death experience within the hour. “What is our current situation?” He requested information, waiting by the captain’s side as he recuperated from another surprise.

“Drax! Crap!” He exclaimed through shaking breaths. “As I was just telling Gamora, here, I’ve found a…” he was suddenly cut off, being interrupted by the all too familiar sound of a misplaced Brooklyn accent.

Of course, this was Rocket, who is very clearly a raccoon. You’d be wise to not call him that however. His intellect makes him feel superior to any rubbish scavenging street animal. He and Quill have somewhat of a rivalry, bickering constantly over which of them truly own The Milano. They don’t get along at the best of times.

“Alright, what miserable, pointless tour around the galaxy is Quill setting up this time?” Rocket questioned rather rudely. His little claws clipped against the floor of the ship as he casually entered the cockpit.

Quill looks at him with a lowered brow, clearly displeased with Rocket’s description. The raccoon can simply chuckle back, giving an obvious smirk, clearly amused.

“If you’d let me finish, then maybe we’d know!” Peter now snapped back, raising his tone towards the group. The constant interruptions weren’t exactly ideal for proposing the new mission they were about to partake on.

“Hey, don’t look at me! Should’ve waited till we were all here, ya’ idiot.” Rocker pointed to Peter, who had now swivelled in his chair to look down to the raccoon.

“I am groot?” Another voice now entered the increasingly crowded cockpit. The few words spoken would belong to Groot, the last of his kind. As a flora colossus, he could only speak one language. Rocket did a fine job of loosely translating, since the two were close friends.

“Now ain’t the time, Groot!” Rocket snapped in annoyance. It was uncertain what he’d said, but it was enough to create enough emotional buildup for Rocket to start shouting louder.

“Ugh! Peter found a distress beacon.” Gamora silenced the crowd of rowdy boys, each looking to her with a varying array of facial expressions. “There. Was it so hard?” She looked to Peter, as she began to walk towards her allocated seat.

“Yes! Thank you, Gamora. Glad someone was paying attention.” Peter quickly scrambled to try and save his uplifting pep talk, which was currently falling into shambles.

“Flark off, Quill.” Rocket muttered as he too began to walk towards his specific seat below the captain’s chair. Groot followed the same pattern as Rocket and Gamora, leaving Drax by Peter’s side.

There was a brief layer of silence, which Peter filled by tapping his fingers against the screens in front of him. That was until Peter slowly let his eyes track to his right. Drax remained in place, staring…

“Peter Quill, where is the location of said distress beacon?” Drax asked through his usual dull tone. His face even matched, as he started down Peter with a stare that was almost devoid of life.

“Ah, excellent question, Drax!” Peter began to search through the navigation device further. The crew awaited a response, with it feeling like an awkward amount of time to be left without an answer. “Here we go! We’re headed to a planet called…Plumper?” He seemed almost confused by the odd sounding name.

Rocket gave a displeased sounding groan before he voiced his opinion. “That skunk hole! I swear, Quill, if you wanna drag us all the way to that place for some flark bags, then you’ve got another thing comin’!” He slumped back into his chair.

“Look, Rocket, I get it. Whatever this place is may not be the greatest, but someone needs our help, okay.” Quill felt proud of himself for thinking so quickly. He was certain that would ignite a passion in the team now.

“Eh, whatever. Maybe they’ll pay well.” Rocket expressed his obvious interest in being paid. Good enough for Quill. He just didn’t want to spend the entire flight having to reassure everyone this was the right thing to do.

With the roster of The Guardians now seemingly fully in agreement to head towards this distress signal, Peter began to travel at full speed. The boosters of The Milano blasted out a flurry of light blue flames, as the speed gradually increased.

The team would eventually wind up touching down on the surface of an open terrain. Lots of grassy hills as far as the eye could see. Seemingly no sign of cities or any form of civilization within the distance they could see.

From the back of the ship, a circular door opens. As though by magic, a dark platform constructed from square shapes began to piece together, stemming down to the ground below.

Strong gusts of wind push against the front of the guardians, as they each descend down the slope of The Milano. Peter and Gamora’s hair wildly flew back, as did Rocket’s fur. Even the branches on Groot proved to be affected by the heavy breeze.

“Nice weather you led us into, Quill!” Rocket was of course the first to pipe up. He was always prepared with a comment in an attempt to degrade Quill’s status as the team’s leader.

“Can’t handle a little wind, Rocket?” Peter responded quickly, surprising the rodent enough into silence.

The group now gather round in a circle, the four of them looking to Peter for guidance on the current mission at hand. Star Lord pulls out three small tracking beacons from his back pocket, giving one to Gamora, another to Drax and a final to Groot.

“Alright, guys. This isn’t our first rodeo. Follow the tracker beeps, higher it beeps, the closer we are to our person in need of rescuing.” Peter explained to the crew, who seemed disinterested at best.

“Got it.” Gamora confirms, as she already begins to leave the circle the group had formed. She was always the type to work alone.

“I assure you, Peter Quill, I shall locate and personally bring you this person.” Drax remained still faced through his entire sentence, right before he too walked in another direction from the circle.

“What a kissass.” Rocket comments just short of Drax’s ears. “Alright, I ain’t got nothing prepared to say. Catch ya’ in a bit, Quill.” Rocket says his goodbyes as he and Groot head off.

Peter sighs, realising his uplifting speech he’d planned was a bust. He didn’t want to mope around the outskirts of the ship; however, he had a job to do. With the small, blinking device in his hand, Star Lord began to traverse the landscapes of this green planet.

He felt his boots clomping against the surface of damp grass. The mud below even remembered the pattern of his footwear, as the shape remained in place.

As he continued to walk, Peter peered around at what surrounded him, all whilst whistling a little tune. He was quick to notice the cliffs surrounding him, and how they were seemingly sprouting purple petals and vines. Not much of a peculiar sight to a galactic traveller.

Just ahead of Peter’s vision, he noticed a slight dip in the terrain. As he got closer, he noticed a recognisable beeping sound growing louder with each step. His smile widened, as his excitement grew too much to contain. He knew what it was!

Rushing forward, Quill leaped down the slight drop ahead, managing to land perfectly. The shape of this area was almost circular, almost like Peter had barrelled into some kind of pit!

Star Lord looked ahead, spotting a blinking red light trapped within a bed of weeds growing against the surface of the small cliff side. Of course, he approaches casually, still whistling the same tune.

He notices the blinking light emitting from the distress signal transmitter. It’s wedged deep between some colourfully shaded vines. Not exactly a promising sign, but it was still worth collecting the piece of tech.

“Nice! Looks like I found the beeper first. Losers…” Star Lord mocked his team, despite not a single one being around to hear it.

Peter removes his leather jacket before moving any further, not wanting to dirty it. Now he reaches into the clump of vines, feeling his fingertips drag against the rough surface of the device.

He reaches closer and closer. He’s inches away, before he suddenly feels his wrist tangle on something! He tugs back with force, hoping it’ll be enough force to simply pry it free.

“Dammit!” Peter groans in annoyance. This isn’t exactly the same bigheaded Quill from just seconds ago, when he was taunting his teammates in a rather childish manner.

He yanks against the vines, but notices them rapidly constricting around the lower portion of his arm. He’s shocked to notice his other wrist now caught up, as were his ankles! He was certainly trapped now…

“Why can’t plants just be normal for once?!” Peter complained out loud, as if the plants would somehow react to his whining. “Nice, not alive plants!”

Peter is pinned down against the surface of the vines, whilst he’s tangled up by them. He looks around, noticing a funnel shaped vine moving toward him. It’s dripping with an almost luminous blue liquid.

“O-okay! This is fine! Totally fine. Yeah. I’m sure this isn’t a deadly poison that’s gonna burn me from the inside…” Peter vocalised his worst fear, feeling confident he was about to meet his end.

He squirms wildly, as the funnel forces its way down into Peter’s throat. His eyes are almost tearing up from the sudden force of the invasive weed. Quickly, he felt himself starting to gulp down a liquid. Sugary and sweet, it was almost flavoursome.

Peter’s groans were confused. He wasn’t sure what was happening, or what this plant was even doing for him for that matter. He had far too many questions. His eyes darted about, noticing nothing or nobody that could help him out of this situation.

Things get ever worse for the hero, as he hears his belly begin to grumble. Louder it became, as he felt tons of his natural liquid push down his throat. Peter is horrified to feel his tummy becoming fuller and heavy. What was this plant doing to him?!

His eyes widen, and groans grow louder as he feels his stomach pushing outward, growing a few inches at a time. The creases on his grey overshirt started to fade, as his belly began to fill out nicely. There was more shape now, like an inflatable ball.

The layer of fat on the bottom of his belly even starts to even lap over his rather trim belt strap. Eventually, it starts to spill out of his undershirt, showing the overhang he’s developed. His skin seems soft, almost like a dough texture.

He feels his arms thickening up, even growing tighter against the vines. He feels his sleeves also starting to restrict around the weight of his arms, as they rapidly thicken up. Peter had always secretly dreamed of becoming so muscularly built, he’d be capable of ripping his sleeves apart with one solid shrug. He was certainly going to be ripping apart his sleeve soon enough, but for the opposite reasoning he would’ve intended.

Even his chest is becoming more noticeably rounded. Two plump portions of his chest now showing through the grey colour of his shirt. From his own vision, Peter could almost see his chest raising to his eye level!

His thighs also squish up against his legwear, causing some discomfort around his jet boosters. He felt the fabric of his trousers quickly applying a similar amount of pressure as his sleeves were to his arms. It was almost a race now to see which could burst first.

Peter’s face even starts to feel the effects of his bizarre growth formula. He feels his cheeks pushing further out, even squishing against his eyes slightly from the amount of liquid filling his mouth. He was almost certain too, that a second chin was resting against the top of his chest, as he felt his beard hairs tickling the skin.

Quill can feel how far his stomach is now pushing out, as he can even feel the fabric of this shirts starting to ride up the skin of his bloated belly. The fine hairs stretched across the surface would be pulled back and eventually released by the rising material.

He winces ever so slightly, feeling his shirts quickly begin to sink deeper into his skin. He scrunches his face, noticing the sounds of the fabric now beginning to stretch, but not yet ripping. Peter lowered his eyes, and moaned with dread. It was inevitable now…

Peter closes his eyes with a great amount of tightness, feeling the first bit of fabric begin to bust apart. He felt the impact push against his curved hips. The split was about halfway down from his underarm, and was growing immensely wide incredibly quickly.

Even his chubby arms started busting free. Thick chunks of his flesh became more visible by the second. The small rips occurring across the stretch of his sleeves were expanding rapidly. They started out as small splits, but gradually tore into gaping holes.

Quill felt his chest becoming more weighted with each gulp. He felt the shirt he wore grow tight around both pecs, feeling the fabric of the shirt gradually wrapping tightly around the shape. Firm and plump, as they perfectly remained placed on top of his blooming belly.

It hung way out his shirt now, with his belly button being largely exposed. The material was so tight now. Unable to withstand the shape of Peter’s massive body for much longer.

He felt the leather of his thin belt shudder suddenly. His belly fat hung heavily atop the top of it. Peter moans in dread. He was wise to anticipate what was about to happen. It was merely a matter of time until…POP!

Wide open the metal buckle swung, sending both sides of the belt swinging open. Peter grunted, jolted his body forward in unison. His gut jiggled erratically from the stern impact he felt against the skin of his belly. He took a few wealthy gulps of air to try and recover from the shock.

The already torn portions of his shirt start to rip apart, exposing more of his darker undershirt. His undershirt is quick to follow, starting to break apart. Just a minimal amount of string barely wrapped around the size of his gut, as the rest of his shirt had all but torn.

Those few strings were sinking deep into his skin, making him look immensely pudgy, and soft. His belly was almost shaking, as it struggled to contain all that was being pumped into it. He was pushing out, further and further.

The loose amount of fabric that struggles to cling together would eventually erupt, allowing his shape to become its fullest so far. His shirt almost lacked any shape now, looking more like loose scraps of fabric thrown against his heavy body.

Even the dainty button his jeans projects off! His body continues to grow as he gulps and gulps. Quill’s clothes are all but gone now, a large bulk of it resting on the muddied ground below.

He whines, feeling the air of the planet tickle his exposed skin, causing the hairs across his body to stand from the chill. Since the majority of his clothing had also burst or torn to its maximum capacity, all he could hear now was this liquid filling his mouth, as his cheeks filled up.

Peter mumbled something through his stuffed mouth. It was largely unintelligible mumbling, but could be slightly made out as words of begging for no more.

Suddenly, Peter heard a new sound, a familiar one. They were voices, or so it seemed. The volume increases, as the origin grew closer. Peter’s eyes become fuller, as he identifies Rocket and Groot lurking nearby! He begins to squirm, as he shouts past his overflowing mouth.

“Hey, you hear somethin’?” Peter hears Rocket notice his desperate cries for assistance. Peter just hoped the out of place sounds coming just below the cliff side they walked along.

“I am Groot?” Peter now heard Groot’s own voice. That made him wriggle even more desperately. The two sounded even closer now than before!

“How the hell do you know it sounds like Quill?!” Rocket argued back with Groot. Quill knew he could always rely on his beloved tree companion.

Groot bickers back, responding with the signature three words he always spoke. Peter grows too tired to continue. His spirit sinks, feeling hope might just be lost…

“Alright, smartass! Let’s go take a look then…” Rocket insists sharply, reigniting that excitement in Quill, the excitement to be rescued! He heard the two reaching closer now.

Peter continues groaning as Rocket and Groot approach, simply hoping they’d help him out of this vine trap! The duo step down the slope, with Rocket noticing Quill. He bursts out laughing, slapping his knee hysterically. Quill felt his cheeks going warm with embarrassment.

“Quill! Oh my flark, what happened to you?!” The raccoon continued his mockery of Peter, almost like he was thriving from Peter’s displeasure.

“I am Groot!” Rocket peered to his friend, clearly not pleased with what he was being told.

“Don’t make fun of him?! Look at him, Groot! How can I not make fun of him? He's massive!” Rocket responded, trying to justify his torment of Peter Quill.

Star Lord grunts angrily as he shakes his body, likely insisting the pair help him. Rocket and Groot walk closer, with the smaller of the two still chuckling. Rocket prods and pokes Peter’s the very bottom of Peter’s overhang.

“Maybe we should leave him?” Rocket jokes, pinching Peter’s belly even further. Peter whines hysterically, almost taking Rocket at his word. His belly wobbled with each movement he made.

He’d still been growing all throughout this brief conversation. He felt his underwear heavily squishing his figure. His cheeks had thickened up to such an extent, the material of his boxers sunk deep in between his massive cheeks, as both hung free. Even his bulge was becoming more visible.

However, Groot was more than capable of assisting. He extends his arm into the vines, doing something to them with his abilities. The vines release, causing Peter to drop down, with the funnel vine also exiting his mouth. He’s hysterically panting for air, feeling his stomach in shock.

“Thank you, Groot…” Quill spoke through desperate huffs and puffs. Groot nodded, understanding his aid was appreciated very much.

“Quill, I can’t believe you actually got yourself caught by plumper vines!” Rocket continued to laugh and joke.

“You…knew about those?! Why didn’t you tell me?” Peter gasped in genuine shock and anger. He couldn’t believe Rocket didn’t mention something like this!

Rocket laughs, almost showing his sinister intentions. “Must’ve slipped my mind.” He crossed his arms whilst looking at Quill.

“Ahh, just…just help me up!” Peter insisted, trying to climb up to his feet by himself. However, he found it to be almost impossible.

“Alright. Groot, give him a hand. He might roll over…” Rocket expressed his thoughts, whilst also giving Groot a clear instruction.

Groot helps him to his feet, which he’s barely able to stand on. He’s so heavy now. His bloated thighs are almost unable to support the size of his body. He waddles beside Groot and Rocket, his body able to fill out the space between the two.

Groot asks something, presumably to Rocket. Peter is none the wiser what he could’ve said. Luckily, Rocket translates. “Groot wants to know if you need carrying, ya’ big lump.”

Star Lord widened his eyes, surprised Groot would even offer such a service. “Carrying?! I- I’m not that big, Rocket!” Peter attempted to insist, though it was a clear contrast between him insisting he wasn’t that big, whilst he struggled to stay upright.

“Uh, yeah, you are. You’re huge right now, Quill. It’s a miracle you’re even standin’.” Rocket chuckled once again, noticing how Quill wobbled with each stride.

“You should’ve warned me about those vines!” Peter insisted, feeling almost insulted he wasn’t given as little as a warning.

“Why’d you even go near em’?” Rocket responded by trying to excuse himself from some of the blame to be placed.

“The bleeper was in there! I was trying to get it.” He explained briefly. “How would I even know anyway?”

“Ah, that beeper?” Rocket seemed almost pleased to hear it had been discovered “Well, guess we can get off this chunk of planet. Headed out with an extra ton.

“Rocket, I didn’t get that fat!” Peter whined with annoyance. He could attempt to deny it all he wanted, but it wouldn’t conceal the fact he had outgrown all of his clothes.

Rocket simply laughs. The group wind up back at the ship, where Drax and Gamora are waiting. Both are waiting just by the ship entrance. They express surprise as they see a gigantic blob coming over the horizon.

“What the hell happened to Peter?” Gamora questioned curiously. She stands forward slightly, now with her hand adjusted against the curve of her hip.

“Dumbass got himself caught in some plumper vines.” Rocket announced to the rest of the group, giving a clear explanation. Gamora rolled her eyes and huffed.

“Okay, why did everybody know about these things but me?!” Peter felt almost like he had been excluded from some kind of mystery club. Regardless, the rest of the crew began to board the ship. However, Drax remained in place, smiling straight at Peter.

“Uh, how you doing, Drax?” Peter asked curiously. He felt almost uncomfortable with both the drawn out silence, and the way Drax fixated his eyes onto Peter’s own.

“Perplexed, Peter Quill.” Typical Drax. Muttering on about something or the other that nobody can really understand. Perplexed about what exactly?

“Ah…sounds cool? Peter keeps going forward onto the ship, with Drax watching behind him. It almost felt like he was being watched. Peter blushed again, realising Drax was probably getting a wide eyeful of how much weight went to Peter’s ass. Not much he could do now.

Later, Peter squeezed his way into the washroom of The Milano, hoping he might be able to clean some of the muck off he’d gathered from the planet they’d just explored.

He’d stripped by this point, not exactly capable of fitting into any other clothes, at least from his wardrobe. He took a glance at himself in the reflection of a foggy mirror. He seemed displeased. He poked and prodded, feeling every ounce of his weight.

His eyes went wide, as he suddenly noticed the door to the bathroom open. Peter squirms to face Drax, who stood in the doorway. He desperately shuffled his hands below his overhang, trying to cover his male appendage.

“Drax! What the hell?!” Peter went slightly red again, not expecting to be seen fully naked, especially in the size he found himself in.

“I apologise for intruding, Peter Quill.” Drax steps forward, the door closing behind him. “However, I must address an urgent matter. It would seem you have thrust yourself into the role of being the biggest and strongest of our team.” Drax explained his reasoning.

“Wha-? You think I’m the strongest?” Peter felt almost complimented by this remark. Drax formerly would always comment on Peter being ‘weak’ or ‘feeble bodied.’

“Indeed. My people value size very much. You, Peter, are most large. This would make you the strongest.” Drax noticed Peter grin eagerly, as though he couldn’t contain his joy. “I’d like to request to show my admiration.” Drax asked.

“Admiration? How would you do that?” Peter seemed genuinely curious. He’d never received such compliments before. He couldn’t help but let it flow to his head.

“In many ways, my leader.” Peter almost felt himself go faint from being referred to so fondly. “Rubbing your belly to appease it, attempting to lift you above my shoulders and even feeding you to increase your vast strength!” Drax explained.

Peter almost felt like this would be something he’d find pleasure in. He looked down to his belly, and then back up to his broad friend. “Sure. Yeah, Drax.” He agreed. “Let me shower first.”

“Of course, Peter Quill.” Drax left as soon as he was asked, giving Peter some time to look back into the mirror. He felt more confident now, as though he appreciated his size more.

“Leader, huh?” He repeated Drax’s words to himself. He was far too caught up in the title. “Maybe being this big isn’t too bad after all…” Peter spoke, as he took a nice firm grip of his overflowing belly.

Description
-SPACE-

Against the backdrop of a seemingly endless dark stretch of stars, the vibrant splashes of blue and orange from The Milano made it stand out. This wasn’t exactly uncommon for the ship’s inhabitants either. The Guardians of The Galaxy were always a group to cause a scene, one way or another.

The interior of the winged ship most certainly appeared to be lived in. The centre of the ship was largely a living space, having a yellow velvet sofa. It wasn’t exactly fashionable in a modern sense. Perhaps more suited for an eighties era nightclub. Certainly to that taste of Peter Quill.

Speaking of the captain of The Milano, he currently was seated in the cockpit. The navigation chair was placed behind the other chairs, four to be exact. There was a slight height to his own chair too, one that gave him a clear view of each seat.

Quill had been giving his best efforts to be the leader The Guardians needed, even despite their seemingly constant jokes at his expense. Though he could seem rather overconfident, or even arrogant at times, he always put the team first.

His appearance didn’t exactly ease the jokes from the other Guardians either. Everything from his blonde, retro spiked hairstyle to his signature red leather jacket, with the words ‘Star Lord’ embroidered onto the back of the material were up for being mocked.

The Milano was simply drifting as of now. Cruising without a destination. Peter Quill looked bored, even tired. His steel coloured eyes reflected the luminous screens and blinking lights of the navigational system spread around him.

He rested with a hand slumped against his cheek, and his elbow supported against the arm of his chair. His gaze would wander from the screen to his left and then back to the one on his right. Nothing new to see. Nothing interesting either.

That was until a strange beeping sound began to transmite from the navigational system. The pitch of the steady sound quickly garnered Peter’s attention, as he straightened up his posture, and began to look more aware.

“Whoa! What have we got going on here?” He excitedly questioned the device as it continued to beep. He tapped on the screen with a few seemingly random pushes, before he was able to notice a very distinct distress beacon that had been set off.

Quill assessed the coordinates briefly, noticing the exact location was pinpointed to a planet just a short flight from here. It wouldn’t even take much time at all to reach, which would be seemingly fortunate for anyone desperate enough to set a distress call out.

“Guys, get yourselves together!” Peter swivels around in his chair, looking down the brief corridor into the living space. He hollered for his friends, having to speak loudly to even hope of them paying attention. It was rare they did so anyway, but Peter still liked to pretend he had some command.

With haste, he turned back to the navigation system, starting to plot coordinates for their expected travel. As he did so, he was yet to even notice a set of hushed footsteps reach his side. He nearly jolted from his chair at the sight of another person!

This was Gamora, the daughter of Thanos. She’s cold and ruthless. Certainly someone you want in your corner when getting into a scrap. Her light green skin makes her recognisable, as do her shimmering blades of doom.

“Gamora! Gosh, you really…” he struggled to even breathe, let alone speak! The captain acted as though the slight shock sent him spiralling into cardiac arrest. He clutched his chest tightly, as though trying to restart his heart.

“Peter, why are you shouting?” She spoke in a rather monotone way, which was rather common. She kept her arms crossed as she spoke to Peter, already appearing fed up with his adrenaline rush from something likely not all that exciting.

“Ah, because we have something to do, finally!” He taps on the distress beacon signal displayed on the screen, giving clear indication of what he was trying to describe.

“A distress beacon?” She seemed to lack the same amount of energy as Quill over this very mundane announcement. Peter however, did allow his own mood to sour.

Quill attempted to speak further, but another silent footed companion approached Peter’s other side, again causing the captain to nearly faint from shock.

This time it was Drax, or more commonly known by Drax: The Destroyer. As the name would suggest, he’s a tough guy with a passion for destroying the biggest and deadliest creatures he can find. However, his sense of taking everything literally does make conversations a challenge.

“Peter Quill!” He announced, giving Quill his second near death experience within the hour. “What is our current situation?” He requested information, waiting by the captain’s side as he recuperated from another surprise.

“Drax! Crap!” He exclaimed through shaking breaths. “As I was just telling Gamora, here, I’ve found a…” he was suddenly cut off, being interrupted by the all too familiar sound of a misplaced Brooklyn accent.

Of course, this was Rocket, who is very clearly a raccoon. You’d be wise to not call him that however. His intellect makes him feel superior to any rubbish scavenging street animal. He and Quill have somewhat of a rivalry, bickering constantly over which of them truly own The Milano. They don’t get along at the best of times.

“Alright, what miserable, pointless tour around the galaxy is Quill setting up this time?” Rocket questioned rather rudely. His little claws clipped against the floor of the ship as he casually entered the cockpit.

Quill looks at him with a lowered brow, clearly displeased with Rocket’s description. The raccoon can simply chuckle back, giving an obvious smirk, clearly amused.

“If you’d let me finish, then maybe we’d know!” Peter now snapped back, raising his tone towards the group. The constant interruptions weren’t exactly ideal for proposing the new mission they were about to partake on.

“Hey, don’t look at me! Should’ve waited till we were all here, ya’ idiot.” Rocker pointed to Peter, who had now swivelled in his chair to look down to the raccoon.

“I am groot?” Another voice now entered the increasingly crowded cockpit. The few words spoken would belong to Groot, the last of his kind. As a flora colossus, he could only speak one language. Rocket did a fine job of loosely translating, since the two were close friends.

“Now ain’t the time, Groot!” Rocket snapped in annoyance. It was uncertain what he’d said, but it was enough to create enough emotional buildup for Rocket to start shouting louder.

“Ugh! Peter found a distress beacon.” Gamora silenced the crowd of rowdy boys, each looking to her with a varying array of facial expressions. “There. Was it so hard?” She looked to Peter, as she began to walk towards her allocated seat.

“Yes! Thank you, Gamora. Glad someone was paying attention.” Peter quickly scrambled to try and save his uplifting pep talk, which was currently falling into shambles.

“Flark off, Quill.” Rocket muttered as he too began to walk towards his specific seat below the captain’s chair. Groot followed the same pattern as Rocket and Gamora, leaving Drax by Peter’s side.

There was a brief layer of silence, which Peter filled by tapping his fingers against the screens in front of him. That was until Peter slowly let his eyes track to his right. Drax remained in place, staring…

“Peter Quill, where is the location of said distress beacon?” Drax asked through his usual dull tone. His face even matched, as he started down Peter with a stare that was almost devoid of life.

“Ah, excellent question, Drax!” Peter began to search through the navigation device further. The crew awaited a response, with it feeling like an awkward amount of time to be left without an answer. “Here we go! We’re headed to a planet called…Plumper?” He seemed almost confused by the odd sounding name.

Rocket gave a displeased sounding groan before he voiced his opinion. “That skunk hole! I swear, Quill, if you wanna drag us all the way to that place for some flark bags, then you’ve got another thing comin’!” He slumped back into his chair.

“Look, Rocket, I get it. Whatever this place is may not be the greatest, but someone needs our help, okay.” Quill felt proud of himself for thinking so quickly. He was certain that would ignite a passion in the team now.

“Eh, whatever. Maybe they’ll pay well.” Rocket expressed his obvious interest in being paid. Good enough for Quill. He just didn’t want to spend the entire flight having to reassure everyone this was the right thing to do.

With the roster of The Guardians now seemingly fully in agreement to head towards this distress signal, Peter began to travel at full speed. The boosters of The Milano blasted out a flurry of light blue flames, as the speed gradually increased.

The team would eventually wind up touching down on the surface of an open terrain. Lots of grassy hills as far as the eye could see. Seemingly no sign of cities or any form of civilization within the distance they could see.

From the back of the ship, a circular door opens. As though by magic, a dark platform constructed from square shapes began to piece together, stemming down to the ground below.

Strong gusts of wind push against the front of the guardians, as they each descend down the slope of The Milano. Peter and Gamora’s hair wildly flew back, as did Rocket’s fur. Even the branches on Groot proved to be affected by the heavy breeze.

“Nice weather you led us into, Quill!” Rocket was of course the first to pipe up. He was always prepared with a comment in an attempt to degrade Quill’s status as the team’s leader.

“Can’t handle a little wind, Rocket?” Peter responded quickly, surprising the rodent enough into silence.

The group now gather round in a circle, the four of them looking to Peter for guidance on the current mission at hand. Star Lord pulls out three small tracking beacons from his back pocket, giving one to Gamora, another to Drax and a final to Groot.

“Alright, guys. This isn’t our first rodeo. Follow the tracker beeps, higher it beeps, the closer we are to our person in need of rescuing.” Peter explained to the crew, who seemed disinterested at best.

“Got it.” Gamora confirms, as she already begins to leave the circle the group had formed. She was always the type to work alone.

“I assure you, Peter Quill, I shall locate and personally bring you this person.” Drax remained still faced through his entire sentence, right before he too walked in another direction from the circle.

“What a kissass.” Rocket comments just short of Drax’s ears. “Alright, I ain’t got nothing prepared to say. Catch ya’ in a bit, Quill.” Rocket says his goodbyes as he and Groot head off.

Peter sighs, realising his uplifting speech he’d planned was a bust. He didn’t want to mope around the outskirts of the ship; however, he had a job to do. With the small, blinking device in his hand, Star Lord began to traverse the landscapes of this green planet.

He felt his boots clomping against the surface of damp grass. The mud below even remembered the pattern of his footwear, as the shape remained in place.

As he continued to walk, Peter peered around at what surrounded him, all whilst whistling a little tune. He was quick to notice the cliffs surrounding him, and how they were seemingly sprouting purple petals and vines. Not much of a peculiar sight to a galactic traveller.

Just ahead of Peter’s vision, he noticed a slight dip in the terrain. As he got closer, he noticed a recognisable beeping sound growing louder with each step. His smile widened, as his excitement grew too much to contain. He knew what it was!

Rushing forward, Quill leaped down the slight drop ahead, managing to land perfectly. The shape of this area was almost circular, almost like Peter had barrelled into some kind of pit!

Star Lord looked ahead, spotting a blinking red light trapped within a bed of weeds growing against the surface of the small cliff side. Of course, he approaches casually, still whistling the same tune.

He notices the blinking light emitting from the distress signal transmitter. It’s wedged deep between some colourfully shaded vines. Not exactly a promising sign, but it was still worth collecting the piece of tech.

“Nice! Looks like I found the beeper first. Losers…” Star Lord mocked his team, despite not a single one being around to hear it.

Peter removes his leather jacket before moving any further, not wanting to dirty it. Now he reaches into the clump of vines, feeling his fingertips drag against the rough surface of the device.

He reaches closer and closer. He’s inches away, before he suddenly feels his wrist tangle on something! He tugs back with force, hoping it’ll be enough force to simply pry it free.

“Dammit!” Peter groans in annoyance. This isn’t exactly the same bigheaded Quill from just seconds ago, when he was taunting his teammates in a rather childish manner.

He yanks against the vines, but notices them rapidly constricting around the lower portion of his arm. He’s shocked to notice his other wrist now caught up, as were his ankles! He was certainly trapped now…

“Why can’t plants just be normal for once?!” Peter complained out loud, as if the plants would somehow react to his whining. “Nice, not alive plants!”

Peter is pinned down against the surface of the vines, whilst he’s tangled up by them. He looks around, noticing a funnel shaped vine moving toward him. It’s dripping with an almost luminous blue liquid.

“O-okay! This is fine! Totally fine. Yeah. I’m sure this isn’t a deadly poison that’s gonna burn me from the inside…” Peter vocalised his worst fear, feeling confident he was about to meet his end.

He squirms wildly, as the funnel forces its way down into Peter’s throat. His eyes are almost tearing up from the sudden force of the invasive weed. Quickly, he felt himself starting to gulp down a liquid. Sugary and sweet, it was almost flavoursome.

Peter’s groans were confused. He wasn’t sure what was happening, or what this plant was even doing for him for that matter. He had far too many questions. His eyes darted about, noticing nothing or nobody that could help him out of this situation.

Things get ever worse for the hero, as he hears his belly begin to grumble. Louder it became, as he felt tons of his natural liquid push down his throat. Peter is horrified to feel his tummy becoming fuller and heavy. What was this plant doing to him?!

His eyes widen, and groans grow louder as he feels his stomach pushing outward, growing a few inches at a time. The creases on his grey overshirt started to fade, as his belly began to fill out nicely. There was more shape now, like an inflatable ball.

The layer of fat on the bottom of his belly even starts to even lap over his rather trim belt strap. Eventually, it starts to spill out of his undershirt, showing the overhang he’s developed. His skin seems soft, almost like a dough texture.

He feels his arms thickening up, even growing tighter against the vines. He feels his sleeves also starting to restrict around the weight of his arms, as they rapidly thicken up. Peter had always secretly dreamed of becoming so muscularly built, he’d be capable of ripping his sleeves apart with one solid shrug. He was certainly going to be ripping apart his sleeve soon enough, but for the opposite reasoning he would’ve intended.

Even his chest is becoming more noticeably rounded. Two plump portions of his chest now showing through the grey colour of his shirt. From his own vision, Peter could almost see his chest raising to his eye level!

His thighs also squish up against his legwear, causing some discomfort around his jet boosters. He felt the fabric of his trousers quickly applying a similar amount of pressure as his sleeves were to his arms. It was almost a race now to see which could burst first.

Peter’s face even starts to feel the effects of his bizarre growth formula. He feels his cheeks pushing further out, even squishing against his eyes slightly from the amount of liquid filling his mouth. He was almost certain too, that a second chin was resting against the top of his chest, as he felt his beard hairs tickling the skin.

Quill can feel how far his stomach is now pushing out, as he can even feel the fabric of this shirts starting to ride up the skin of his bloated belly. The fine hairs stretched across the surface would be pulled back and eventually released by the rising material.

He winces ever so slightly, feeling his shirts quickly begin to sink deeper into his skin. He scrunches his face, noticing the sounds of the fabric now beginning to stretch, but not yet ripping. Peter lowered his eyes, and moaned with dread. It was inevitable now…

Peter closes his eyes with a great amount of tightness, feeling the first bit of fabric begin to bust apart. He felt the impact push against his curved hips. The split was about halfway down from his underarm, and was growing immensely wide incredibly quickly.

Even his chubby arms started busting free. Thick chunks of his flesh became more visible by the second. The small rips occurring across the stretch of his sleeves were expanding rapidly. They started out as small splits, but gradually tore into gaping holes.

Quill felt his chest becoming more weighted with each gulp. He felt the shirt he wore grow tight around both pecs, feeling the fabric of the shirt gradually wrapping tightly around the shape. Firm and plump, as they perfectly remained placed on top of his blooming belly.

It hung way out his shirt now, with his belly button being largely exposed. The material was so tight now. Unable to withstand the shape of Peter’s massive body for much longer.

He felt the leather of his thin belt shudder suddenly. His belly fat hung heavily atop the top of it. Peter moans in dread. He was wise to anticipate what was about to happen. It was merely a matter of time until…POP!

Wide open the metal buckle swung, sending both sides of the belt swinging open. Peter grunted, jolted his body forward in unison. His gut jiggled erratically from the stern impact he felt against the skin of his belly. He took a few wealthy gulps of air to try and recover from the shock.

The already torn portions of his shirt start to rip apart, exposing more of his darker undershirt. His undershirt is quick to follow, starting to break apart. Just a minimal amount of string barely wrapped around the size of his gut, as the rest of his shirt had all but torn.

Those few strings were sinking deep into his skin, making him look immensely pudgy, and soft. His belly was almost shaking, as it struggled to contain all that was being pumped into it. He was pushing out, further and further.

The loose amount of fabric that struggles to cling together would eventually erupt, allowing his shape to become its fullest so far. His shirt almost lacked any shape now, looking more like loose scraps of fabric thrown against his heavy body.

Even the dainty button his jeans projects off! His body continues to grow as he gulps and gulps. Quill’s clothes are all but gone now, a large bulk of it resting on the muddied ground below.

He whines, feeling the air of the planet tickle his exposed skin, causing the hairs across his body to stand from the chill. Since the majority of his clothing had also burst or torn to its maximum capacity, all he could hear now was this liquid filling his mouth, as his cheeks filled up.

Peter mumbled something through his stuffed mouth. It was largely unintelligible mumbling, but could be slightly made out as words of begging for no more.

Suddenly, Peter heard a new sound, a familiar one. They were voices, or so it seemed. The volume increases, as the origin grew closer. Peter’s eyes become fuller, as he identifies Rocket and Groot lurking nearby! He begins to squirm, as he shouts past his overflowing mouth.

“Hey, you hear somethin’?” Peter hears Rocket notice his desperate cries for assistance. Peter just hoped the out of place sounds coming just below the cliff side they walked along.

“I am Groot?” Peter now heard Groot’s own voice. That made him wriggle even more desperately. The two sounded even closer now than before!

“How the hell do you know it sounds like Quill?!” Rocket argued back with Groot. Quill knew he could always rely on his beloved tree companion.

Groot bickers back, responding with the signature three words he always spoke. Peter grows too tired to continue. His spirit sinks, feeling hope might just be lost…

“Alright, smartass! Let’s go take a look then…” Rocket insists sharply, reigniting that excitement in Quill, the excitement to be rescued! He heard the two reaching closer now.

Peter continues groaning as Rocket and Groot approach, simply hoping they’d help him out of this vine trap! The duo step down the slope, with Rocket noticing Quill. He bursts out laughing, slapping his knee hysterically. Quill felt his cheeks going warm with embarrassment.

“Quill! Oh my flark, what happened to you?!” The raccoon continued his mockery of Peter, almost like he was thriving from Peter’s displeasure.

“I am Groot!” Rocket peered to his friend, clearly not pleased with what he was being told.

“Don’t make fun of him?! Look at him, Groot! How can I not make fun of him? He's massive!” Rocket responded, trying to justify his torment of Peter Quill.

Star Lord grunts angrily as he shakes his body, likely insisting the pair help him. Rocket and Groot walk closer, with the smaller of the two still chuckling. Rocket prods and pokes Peter’s the very bottom of Peter’s overhang.

“Maybe we should leave him?” Rocket jokes, pinching Peter’s belly even further. Peter whines hysterically, almost taking Rocket at his word. His belly wobbled with each movement he made.

He’d still been growing all throughout this brief conversation. He felt his underwear heavily squishing his figure. His cheeks had thickened up to such an extent, the material of his boxers sunk deep in between his massive cheeks, as both hung free. Even his bulge was becoming more visible.

However, Groot was more than capable of assisting. He extends his arm into the vines, doing something to them with his abilities. The vines release, causing Peter to drop down, with the funnel vine also exiting his mouth. He’s hysterically panting for air, feeling his stomach in shock.

“Thank you, Groot…” Quill spoke through desperate huffs and puffs. Groot nodded, understanding his aid was appreciated very much.

“Quill, I can’t believe you actually got yourself caught by plumper vines!” Rocket continued to laugh and joke.

“You…knew about those?! Why didn’t you tell me?” Peter gasped in genuine shock and anger. He couldn’t believe Rocket didn’t mention something like this!

Rocket laughs, almost showing his sinister intentions. “Must’ve slipped my mind.” He crossed his arms whilst looking at Quill.

“Ahh, just…just help me up!” Peter insisted, trying to climb up to his feet by himself. However, he found it to be almost impossible.

“Alright. Groot, give him a hand. He might roll over…” Rocket expressed his thoughts, whilst also giving Groot a clear instruction.

Groot helps him to his feet, which he’s barely able to stand on. He’s so heavy now. His bloated thighs are almost unable to support the size of his body. He waddles beside Groot and Rocket, his body able to fill out the space between the two.

Groot asks something, presumably to Rocket. Peter is none the wiser what he could’ve said. Luckily, Rocket translates. “Groot wants to know if you need carrying, ya’ big lump.”

Star Lord widened his eyes, surprised Groot would even offer such a service. “Carrying?! I- I’m not that big, Rocket!” Peter attempted to insist, though it was a clear contrast between him insisting he wasn’t that big, whilst he struggled to stay upright.

“Uh, yeah, you are. You’re huge right now, Quill. It’s a miracle you’re even standin’.” Rocket chuckled once again, noticing how Quill wobbled with each stride.

“You should’ve warned me about those vines!” Peter insisted, feeling almost insulted he wasn’t given as little as a warning.

“Why’d you even go near em’?” Rocket responded by trying to excuse himself from some of the blame to be placed.

“The bleeper was in there! I was trying to get it.” He explained briefly. “How would I even know anyway?”

“Ah, that beeper?” Rocket seemed almost pleased to hear it had been discovered “Well, guess we can get off this chunk of planet. Headed out with an extra ton.

“Rocket, I didn’t get that fat!” Peter whined with annoyance. He could attempt to deny it all he wanted, but it wouldn’t conceal the fact he had outgrown all of his clothes.

Rocket simply laughs. The group wind up back at the ship, where Drax and Gamora are waiting. Both are waiting just by the ship entrance. They express surprise as they see a gigantic blob coming over the horizon.

“What the hell happened to Peter?” Gamora questioned curiously. She stands forward slightly, now with her hand adjusted against the curve of her hip.

“Dumbass got himself caught in some plumper vines.” Rocket announced to the rest of the group, giving a clear explanation. Gamora rolled her eyes and huffed.

“Okay, why did everybody know about these things but me?!” Peter felt almost like he had been excluded from some kind of mystery club. Regardless, the rest of the crew began to board the ship. However, Drax remained in place, smiling straight at Peter.

“Uh, how you doing, Drax?” Peter asked curiously. He felt almost uncomfortable with both the drawn out silence, and the way Drax fixated his eyes onto Peter’s own.

“Perplexed, Peter Quill.” Typical Drax. Muttering on about something or the other that nobody can really understand. Perplexed about what exactly?

“Ah…sounds cool? Peter keeps going forward onto the ship, with Drax watching behind him. It almost felt like he was being watched. Peter blushed again, realising Drax was probably getting a wide eyeful of how much weight went to Peter’s ass. Not much he could do now.

Later, Peter squeezed his way into the washroom of The Milano, hoping he might be able to clean some of the muck off he’d gathered from the planet they’d just explored.

He’d stripped by this point, not exactly capable of fitting into any other clothes, at least from his wardrobe. He took a glance at himself in the reflection of a foggy mirror. He seemed displeased. He poked and prodded, feeling every ounce of his weight.

His eyes went wide, as he suddenly noticed the door to the bathroom open. Peter squirms to face Drax, who stood in the doorway. He desperately shuffled his hands below his overhang, trying to cover his male appendage.

“Drax! What the hell?!” Peter went slightly red again, not expecting to be seen fully naked, especially in the size he found himself in.

“I apologise for intruding, Peter Quill.” Drax steps forward, the door closing behind him. “However, I must address an urgent matter. It would seem you have thrust yourself into the role of being the biggest and strongest of our team.” Drax explained his reasoning.

“Wha-? You think I’m the strongest?” Peter felt almost complimented by this remark. Drax formerly would always comment on Peter being ‘weak’ or ‘feeble bodied.’

“Indeed. My people value size very much. You, Peter, are most large. This would make you the strongest.” Drax noticed Peter grin eagerly, as though he couldn’t contain his joy. “I’d like to request to show my admiration.” Drax asked.

“Admiration? How would you do that?” Peter seemed genuinely curious. He’d never received such compliments before. He couldn’t help but let it flow to his head.

“In many ways, my leader.” Peter almost felt himself go faint from being referred to so fondly. “Rubbing your belly to appease it, attempting to lift you above my shoulders and even feeding you to increase your vast strength!” Drax explained.

Peter almost felt like this would be something he’d find pleasure in. He looked down to his belly, and then back up to his broad friend. “Sure. Yeah, Drax.” He agreed. “Let me shower first.”

“Of course, Peter Quill.” Drax left as soon as he was asked, giving Peter some time to look back into the mirror. He felt more confident now, as though he appreciated his size more.

“Leader, huh?” He repeated Drax’s words to himself. He was far too caught up in the title. “Maybe being this big isn’t too bad after all…” Peter spoke, as he took a nice firm grip of his overflowing belly.