Reader x Gamora

The two of you had known each other for a long time, helping each other as you gave her an escape from Thanos when she was under his liege. The two of you almost had a romantic future, which was never explored. Now, you joined the Guardians of the Galaxy, together with Gamora. You're comedic and relatively out of pocket ideas and jokes, combined with her stoic refusal to acknowledge them created an interesting dynamic.

Now, with her dead and an alternate time line Gamora intervening, you were sad but trying to hold on. As you and the Guardians attempt to save Rocket after Adam Warlock attacks, the squad intervenes with Gamora as she comes to help.

"We have a meeting!" Nebula shouted loudly, Ravagers shouting around us.

Peter looked confused, but went with it, "Yeah! We have a meeting!" He quickly looked to Nebula, "With who?" He whispered quietly.

The Ravagers agreed, saying the same thing, and you, behind Peter , could only help but agree, majorly confused as to what business you guys had with the Ravagers.

"Gamora." Nebula pronounced, as you felt the words carve into your soft but coarse heart. Peter seemed to feel similarly, his expression changing.

Gamora herself, the alternate reality version at least, unveiled herself, moving through the crowd to the front. "You're early."

She spoke with a finality, one that had slowly declined when she was with the group of you. However with the Ravagers it seems her bountiful attitude had only grown, an air surrounding her. You had to look away, your best friend was right there, but it wasn't really her.

"Y/n?" She suddenly exclaimed, loudly, looking directly at you. She rushed towards you, hugging you in a tight embrace, contradicting her every last move.

Your mind was racing, conflicted. This Gamora, it wasn't the one you knew, but could it be so bad to just accept her? Would that disgrace your Gamora? You couldn't decide, hugger her as tight as you could, her warmth filling your core as a smile rose to your face.

"Gamora! I-" You couldn't find the words. She had died. Peter swore it was his fault but if only you could've-

"Y/n! You're…well a little different. But you're still mine…right?" She asked hesitantly, her eyes gazing up to yours, as your face molded nervously.

"Of course."